Merda.
Lifting my hand, I run my palm down my face. Unable to look at myself any longer, I turn and start the shower. It takes a moment for the water to heat, stepping into the shower, I hiss as it scalds me. I deserve it, I hope that it will cleanse me, but I know that it won’t.
The shower door opens, I spin around, wondering how in the fuck she got in here. Wynter’s smile is catty, it’s a smirk as she looks at me. Her eyes roam over my body and then she sighs as she makes a tsking sound.
“Not right now. I have to go into work today,” I bark.
She reaches forward, wrapping her hand around my cock. I’m half-mast, unable to keep my body from reacting to the sight of her naked one, to the feel of her hand stroking me. She is not who I want, never was, never will be, but fuck, my body cannot control its reaction to friction.
“I’m your wife now, Arlo,” she announces. She doesn’t need to.
She has reminded me every hour on the hour since Friday night, of her position as my wife. I don’t need her reminders. I’ll never fucking forget the guilt that I feel every single time I sink inside of her and not Lenora.
Wrapping my fingers around her wrist, I squeeze her until she releases her grip on my cock. She cries out, but let’s go. Shoving her gently, she stumbles backward as she massages her wrist and stares at me.
“You may be my wife in name, Wynter, but you have no claim to me. And you don’t need to remind me what I’ve done by repeating vows and putting my ring on your finger,” I grunt.
She narrows her gaze on me, her eyes watching me as her lips press into a thin line. “You’ll regret treating me less than,” she hisses.
“I regret many things in my life, Wynter.”
Stepping out of the shower, I grab my towel, wrapping it around my waist as I walk away from her.
“Oh, and Wynter?” I call out, from over my shoulder. “You walk through a locked, or closed door of mine again you may not like what awaits you on the other side.”
“This is my home. I’ll do what I want,” she snaps.
“Suit yourself.”
Leaving her in the bathroom, I walk into my closet and quickly dress for the day. Just like every single day, I don one of my favorite suits. Today I wear navy blue pants, vest, and jacket, with a light gray button-up shirt beneath the vest.
Sliding my feet into my favorite pair of camel brown Italian leather shoes, I run my comb through my hair and slick it back.
Opening my small gun safe, I grab two pieces, one for each of my shoulder holsters. Looking down at my hand, I grimace at the sight of my new wedding ring. When Wynter picked it out, she made sure that everyone would know I was married. It’s covered in diamonds, which I absolutely despise.
Walking out of my bedroom, I make my way over to my nightstand and pluck my phone from the surface before I shove it in my pocket.
“What time should I expect you to return home, darling?” Wynter asks with a sharp bite to her tone.
Turning my head, I look over to her. She’s sitting naked against the headboard, her legs spread as she watches me. If it were Lenora sitting the same way, I would dive back into bed, unable to resist her body. However, Wynter is completely resistible.
“Don’t expect me home anytime soon,” I state.
Showing her my back, I leave. I don’t look back. I have to work this morning, then I’m spending as many hours as possible with Lenora and inside of Lenora. I’m sure God is going to strike me down, but I can’t fucking stay away from her.
Walking out of the front door, I don’t do what I want. I don’t drive straight for Lenora. Instead, I make my way toward the office.
I have to meet with Salvatore and Gavino sometime this morning. Then, I have to make sure everything is set for the meeting with the commissioner and Senator McClain tomorrow morning.
My phone rings just as I’m pulling out toward the office.
“I think I have your men for you,” Mia announces. I blink, wondering what the fuck she’s talking about. I wait in silence for her to finish. “The male escorts,” she informs.
“Training?” I ask.
“I have Carmella, who will be in charge. If they need more in-depth training, she’ll inform me when it’s time.”
Smiling, I’m unable to hold back my chuckle. “I can’t believe we’re dipping our toes into this part of the industry. What about clients?”
Mia goes on to inform me that she has ten clients already lined up for the men. Several are couples wishing to add a male for a night. One is another man, and the others are women in need of escorts for events.
“Seems like we’ve made a good decision then,” I murmur.
“I do believe that you have.”
Without another word, she ends the call just as I arrive at my office. Shifting my car into park, I exit my vehicle and make my way into the building.
It’s busy for Monday morning, people are bustling around getting ready to start their work weeks. The building where our offices are located include other famiglia businesses with employees, that are none the wiser of who exactly their employers are.
Passing by all of the people who are hustling around the reception area, I make my way toward the elevator car and push the button for my floor. I watch the numbers rise, thankful that the car doesn’t stop until it reaches its destination.
Gavino and Salvatore each have a secretary, I, however, do not. I don’t have the time to dictate to another person, not when I can just do the fucking job myself, whatever it is.
Breezing past Gavino’s secretary, I waltz into his office. Not bothering to knock, I sink down in the chair across from his desk. I watch him, he doesn’t even flinch at my presence. Instead, he slowly lifts his gaze to mine and smiles.
“How was the honeymoon weekend?” he asks, not even attempting to keep a straight face.
I lift my hand, flipping him a bird and grunt. “I can’t stand her. She keeps reminding me that we’re married and all she wanted to do was fuck. Honestly, she’s driving me insane.”
Gavino leans back in his chair, leveling me with a gaze. “Maybe she wouldn’t be so annoying if you weren’t in love with another woman?” he asks.
I shrug. “Maybe. Maybe it’s not all her fault. Fuck knows, I feel so goddamn guilty at this point. I can’t even look myself in the eye.”
“Are you sure you want to continue with this?” he asks.
Nodding, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair. “I do. She’s playing with me right now. I have no doubt that she will be trouble, that her true colors are as ugly as mine beneath the surface. I want to be able to get rid of her when needed.”
Gavino dips his chin just as Salvatore walks through the door. I watch as he closes it behind him, locking it, then makes his way over to the chair next to mine.
“I have a file on the commissioner and Senator McClain. Both are as dirty as they come. There is evidence abound of their wrong doings throughout the years. This will help, if we ever need it. Insurance policies are always the best policies,” he announces.
“Contracts?” I ask.
He grins. “Iron-clad. I doubt they’ll be bringing any attorneys tomorrow anyway, but even if they do, there’s nothing to object to in them. Everything is set for tomorrow. Including the date of the next exchange. Which I personally think is a lot sooner than we need,” he murmurs.
“When is it?” Gavino asks.
He’s been delegating more and more. While I’m glad for that, it just makes everything that much more complicated.
“Two-weeks,” Salvatore explains.
“How many women?” I demand.
Salvatore clears his throat, then thumbs through his phone for the information. “Seven, ages eighteen through twenty-one. Two virgins,” he reads.
I close my eyes, feeling like a fucking asshole for this part of business. More guilt piles onto my shoulders and inside of my gut. Opening them again, I look over to Gavino who is wearing the same look of regret on his fac
e. He lifts his hand, his fingers rubbing his chin as he leans back in his chair.
“The virgins, what about an auction? I have a list of men who are in line for one, but I think this would be more fun, no?” Gavino asks.
It would be more sinister, but it would also mean more money in our pockets as a group. Salvatore clears his throat. “An auction for what exactly?” he asks.
“Not to keep. Only for one night, fully monitored. They won’t be able to leave the facility with them. We’ll do it at the casino, close down for a night and hold it there. We have so many coming in from Ireland, it would be a shame…”
“Is this going to be an ongoing thing?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Maybe. Probably not. I guess it depends,” he waffles back and forth.
I chuckle, reaching forward and rapping my knuckle on his desk. His eyes look over to me and he smirks. “Try it out once, see what kind of traction you get. Maybe do a once a year auction. If you do it too often, it loses its appeal. Get Mia in on the planning. She has a list of client’s desires and their bank account information, a mile long. Also, she will revamp each of the rooms into an oasis, which let’s be honest, men that pay to fuck a virgin want the whole fantasy,” I point out.
“Doesn’t it feel so fucking lecherous?” Salvatore asks.
I look over at him, but it’s Gavino who speaks first. “It is, Sal, don’t think that I agree with any of this shit because I’m doing it. I’m going to put it on for the simple facts that it makes the famiglia money, and it fulfills several of our client’s desires. Keeping the clients happy, and returning, is needed in this line of business,” he explains.
“I’ll set up a meeting with Mia later this week, we’ll go over details,” I state. “Salvatore, you’ll be there?” I ask.
Gavino looks to the man, and he frowns. “I don’t agree with it, but I’ll be there.”
I don’t ask him why he’s so against it. This is something that the famiglia has done for as long as I’ve been in on the ongoings of the business. He knows because his father was the Consigliere before him. Call girls, gambling, protection, and loans. The world revolves around money and we aim to have the world revolve around us.
“Anything else today, Vino?” I ask.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Go to your woman, cugino.”
ELENORA
The entire workday, I’m a nervous ball of jitters. It’s been almost a week since I’ve seen him, an entire week. Other than the quick visit and fuck once, I’ve only talked to him sporadically on the phone. Our conversations have been short, and he’s texted me every morning then again, every evening.
I don’t know how it happened, how I fell in love with this man, but I have.
Lifting my hand, I touch the diamond on my ear. I never thought in a million years that I would have real diamond earrings, especially not ones that cover my entire earlobes, but I do.
The bell of my door rings, taking me from my daydreams. Lifting my head, I smile as I watch a man walk through. He’s dressed much like Arlo in a suit. I bite the corner of my lip just thinking about my man again, about the fact that I’ve fallen in love with him.
“Hello, welcome to Sugar Cookies, how may I help you?” I ask.
He ignores my question, making his way through the store, stopping every few moments to touch an item or two. I watch him, confused by his perusal. Then, as if something has flipped a switch inside of him, he walks over to the bridal section and thumbs through the white bustiers. He takes one from the rack and makes his way up to the counter.
“Will this be all?” I ask.
He lifts his gaze to mine. Dark eyes meet my own and he smirks as if he’s hiding a secret, one that only he’s privy to the answer. It’s almost dark and sinister looking.
“For now, Elenora,” he whispers.
He’s a large man and I notice that his hand is huge. His words wash over me. A shiver of fear ripples throughout my entire body. He pays in cash and then he walks out of the door, just as quietly as he came inside.
Lifting my hand to my neck, I force myself to breathe, feeling like I’m choking on the air in the room. Before I can think too much about him or how he made me feel, the door opens again and Chloe is standing in the middle of my shop with an iced coffee and a bag of food in her hands.
“You never come for lunch,” I say slowly.
She shrugs one shoulder, then grins. “I miss my best friend. I think I want to do this Monday and Friday. Would that work for you?”
“Monday and Friday lunch with my best friend? Yeah, that would work.” I laugh.
She hurries behind my counter and although I typically don’t eat while I’m at work, I can’t turn down lunch with Chloe, or hearing all about her relationship with the sexy as sin Luca.
By the time we’re finished eating, I need a fan. They are so hot, everything about them. Sucking on my iced coffee, I wait for her to ask about Arlo and I’m not disappointed when it’s the next topic of conversation.
“Have you seen him?”
Shaking my head, I shrug. “He’s supposed to come home for dinner and stay tonight.”
“It’s weird,” she breathes. “I asked Luca what was up with him, but he refused to talk about it.”
“Yeah, I told him we needed to really talk tonight. I just, it’s all so new, I don’t want to mess anything up,” I admit.
I don’t want to push him away. I don’t want to ruin anything. I’m falling in love with him, but the truth is, I don’t really know him all that well, yet. I know things will change, when we’re living together full-time, everything will happen the way that it was meant to. It’s just… I’m fucking terrified.
“You okay?” Chloe asks.
I nod, clearing my throat. “Yeah.” I smile as my fingers lift to touch my earrings.
A new nervous habit that I’ve created over the last week, one that I don’t mind much. It reminds me of Arlo, my Carlo.
“I’m still jealous of that bling,” Chloe huffs, giving me a smirk.
I laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t know why he gave them to me. I’m still in shock.”
“Well, don’t question it. Just get on your knees and thank him when you see him tonight.” She winks as she stands to her feet.
Chloe leaves and I feel lighter already. I’m happy and excited for the evening. I don’t know how everything is going to go, but I know without a doubt that as long as I slide into bed in Arlo’s arms by the end of the evening, that’s all I care about.
Chapter Sixteen
ELENORA
I’m a ball of nerves as I wait for Carlo. After work, I hurried home, showered and changed into a short floral wrap dress, slipped on my favorite gold flat sandals, and ran a brush through my hair. Now, as the salmon bakes in the oven, along with the red potatoes that are roasting, I wait.
I pace in front of the large windows, nervous, I’m so incredibly nervous. I don’t know why, it’s not as if I’ve been away from Arlo that long, but honestly, this has been agony. Pure unadulterated agony, which is ridiculous because just a few weeks ago I was used to being completely on my own.
Lifting my hand to my ear, I touch my diamond earring, rubbing it between my fingers as I stare out at the East River in front of me.
Brooklyn looms in the distance and I wonder, for the millionth time, why exactly he needed to stay there all week. What could he have possibly been doing that he couldn’t have come home? It’s so strange and I’m far too curious for my own good.
I’m lost in thought, completely focused on the water and city ahead of me when I feel a pair of warm hands on my shoulders and a mouth touches the side of my neck.
“Tesoro,” Carlo whispers.
He inhales my scent, then groans as his hands move down my sides and wrap around my waist. His mouth is against my neck, his breath hot as it skims over my skin. His tongue causes my body to tremble, as he touches me, my eyes slowly flutter closed.
“I’m going to fuck you against this wind
ow, looking out at the water. Cazzo, Lennie, I’ve missed you,” he murmurs.
Turning around in his arms, I can’t stop myself, I need to see him. A week without my eyes on his was far too long. Lifting my hands, I cup his cheeks and look into his blue eyes. Letting out a sigh, I lean forward and brush my lips across his, leaving them there and inhaling him.
“I missed you, Carlo,” I breathe.
His hands grip my waist, his fingers biting into my skin above my dress. I had bruises from the last time we were together, they’ve faded and I want them back. I want them all back. I want him back.
“Merda. Mi sei mancata più di quanto tu potessi conoscere il mio amore.”
I don’t ask him what he’s just said. You don’t have to speak Italian to know that he feels the same way that I do. His hands shift from my waist to my ass and he grabs two handfuls, pulling my hips against his own. I feel his hard length against my belly and I let out a sigh.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” I whisper.
His fingers flex against my ass and he releases me, taking a step back. My hands fall from his face and I instantly feel lost, and at a loss. Walking past him, I try to keep from trembling with need, with want, as I make my way toward the kitchen.
The dining table is already set with place settings, silverware, glasses, and napkins. The table and chairs are, naturally, a New York Design Center showroom purchase that Chloe had demanded that I buy. It’s all beautiful, but I’ve yet to actually use it, until tonight.
“Would you like some wine, whiskey?” I ask.
He doesn’t say anything right away. Taking the salmon from the oven, I look over to him and notice that he’s taken my place that I vacated and is looking out the window.
“Carlo, sweetheart?” I call out.
He turns his head, looking over his shoulder, then grins. It’s a sad kind of smile, but he shakes his head and it disappears, his regularly devilishly handsome lips turning up into a much easier smile.
Becoming his Mistress: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 12