Run This Town: Complete Series

by Sadie Black

  But Luka beat her to the punch.

  * * *

  Luka

  The second the door closed behind Vittore's prized meatheads, Luka rounded on the woman looking to throw him under the bus. Out of the three of them, she was the only one who posed him a real threat.

  "What the fuck kind of woman," Luka hissed, approaching on fast steps until he was nose to nose with her, "sells herself for a story? If I knew you were a fucking whore, I would've paid you."

  Rage flashed across Ciara's dark eyes, and she slapped him hard. Burning pain lit his flesh as though it had caught fire, and Luka's head jerked to the side from the force of her indignation. The shock was short lived; before her hand could fall, Luka caught her by the wrist and pressed the tips of his fingernails into it. As his cheek burned red with her hand print, Ciara struggled to pull free from his grasp.

  "Don't make that mistake again," he breathed. For as much as the slap had hurt, and for as dangerous a move as it had been, it had knocked him from the sharp peak of his anger and left him on more stable ground. No longer blinded by rage, he was able to reel himself in and take an objective step back.

  "Or what?" Ciara asked, indignant. "Will you send those guys back for me again?"

  There were crossed wires here that needed to be sorted out, and Luka was going to take the higher road. Following a deep, grounding breath, he locked eyes with Ciara and told her the truth.

  "I didn't send them. You brought them onto yourself by hiding who you really were from me. If you were honest about who you were from the beginning, we never would have had this problem. Instead, the Don got suspicious of your involvement with me and took it onto himself to get the facts. If he hadn't called me to tell me what you were working for TCD and you were trying to ruin my career, I never would have known anything. Not that you are a reporter, and not that he put a hit out on you. I came here because I wanted to protect you, even though you were trying to drag my name through the goddamned mud and capitalize on my fame. I'm trying to fucking protect you. And when the Don finds out that I stepped in and fucked with his plans, he's gonna come after me, too. I'm putting my neck on the line for you."

  The grip he had on her wrist loosened, then fell away. Luka crossed his arms loosely over his chest, sorting through his emotions. Betrayal didn't change the fact that Ciara was one hell of a woman.

  "I couldn't do it," she said. Her gaze had fallen, the rampant anger deflated all at once and replaced with doubt and guilt. Luka wasn't sure he understood what was going on.

  "What couldn't you do?" he asked.

  "I couldn't bring myself to send in the story," she whispered. "I found all the dirt on you I needed. The picture in your phone with the coke, with the girls, and the incriminating text messages you had. I wrote a story about all of it that would have ended your career and started mine, but... I couldn't send it in. I deleted the story and all the evidence I had. I couldn't bring myself to hurt you like that."

  "Why not?" If she was in this for the story, what did it matter how he hurt? Luka pursed his lips as he waited for the response.

  Ciara's dark eyes rose up to capture his, and he saw her low lip tremble. The strong woman who had been unafraid to chew him out while her life dangled on the line now trembled before him.

  "Because I've never met a man like you before... And I didn't realize it until I sat down to write the story just how much you've come to mean to me."

  A beat passed where no words were spoken, the light from the exposed light bulb above captured in the tears gathered in Ciara's eyes.

  "I love you, Luka."

  The words shot through his heart like a bullet through water. All semblance of thought fled. Ciara loved him? It seemed too good to be true. A woman as beautiful and intelligent as she was deserved a man who wasn't going to fuck his life by getting dragged into the mafia, deserved a man who could fight his own battles and win his own wars.

  "Well?" she asked. "Say something, Luka. Say that you hate me and that you never want to see me again. Say that—"

  "I love you, too," he said, and the words rang true in his soul. Of course he loved Ciara. How could this be anything but love?

  Thoughts of her occupied his spare moments, and in the short amount of time he'd known her, she'd encouraged him to grow. From a playboy to a man unafraid to take on the mafia, Luka had come leaps and bounds from where he'd begun.

  "You what?"

  Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, tracing down the arches of her cheeks and adding sparkle her bronzed skin. Nothing he said was going to sink in beyond her sorrow and guilt like he wanted it to — he had to show her what he meant in another way. A better way.

  Luka closed the distance between their lips and kissed her hard. Ciara's eyelids closed, the guilt and fear melting away beneath the heat of his touch. Rigid posture loosened as she relaxed for him, and when the tears had stopped, Luka drew away to look her in the eyes.

  "I love you, too."

  For as fiercely independent and fearless in the face of danger as she was, Ciara weakened for him. The walls he'd complained about had fallen at last, and for the first time he peeked into the part of herself she kept the most guarded. Even in her vulnerability, Ciara was beautiful. How much courage had it taken to delete the story? She'd sacrificed her future for his sake. No one had ever been so selfless towards him, and for as much as he loved who she was as a person, he loved her for how she cared for him as well.

  There were no words left to be spoken. Luka led her from the small living room and to the closed door that he assumed let into her bedroom. When words failed, it was up to action to prove a point. With adrenaline still coursing through his veins, the sting of her hand print still upon his cheek, he would prove to her what he felt.

  Tonight he would make her his.

  Ciara's bedroom was tiny and uncluttered. The full sized bed seemed big enough for one, but would be a tight fit for two. Crisp white sheets and a billowing blue comforter were spread neatly across the top and tucked into the mattress. But it wasn't the cleanliness of her room or the size of the bed that mattered — all that was important was the woman he pushed down against the mattress and pinned on the sheets.

  A small window cast moonlight across the bed, but otherwise the room was shrouded in shadow. Half by sight and half by feel, Luka's hand crossed the sheets until it met Ciara's cheek. The warm remnants of her tears lingered there, and he brushed them away with his thumb.

  "I love you," he uttered against her lips, the sides of their noses grazing one another. Luka's free hand moved down her body to cup the modest breasts beneath her dress and Ciara squirmed at the touch. The sharp rise and fall of her chest suggested that she was under his spell, and Luka wanted to keep it that way. His lips met hers, the kiss rough and demanding. When it finally broke, Luka knew what he needed from her, and what she needed from him.

  Both hands secured her by the waist, and he changed his position in order to flip her onto her stomach. Ciara gasped as she was handled, but did not protest. Right then, torn apart by fear and uncertainty, she needed a man in her life to protect her. To show her who was in charge. Luka was ready to step up to fill that roll.

  Luka threw the hem of her white dress up, exposing the white thong that she'd paired it with. Ciara's slender body was his to touch and caress, and Luka intended to make the most of it. Tonight he would show her the love he had declared. Tonight he would make her his.

  "Luka, I—" but words meant nothing, and Luka had stopped listening. Fingertips trailed gently up her thigh, tugging her thong over the smooth curve of her ass, but leaving it clinging to her sleek thighs. Ciara arched her back the littlest bit and parted her legs for him. Everything she did was beautiful. Everything she did turned him on.

  Luka's finger traced along her wet pussy, finding her already aroused. Heated anger translated so easily into other extreme emotions. He, too, had stirred easily for her. As he undid the button of his slacks and pulled them, and the briefs beneath
, to the floor, his erection was impossible to miss. All for her. Now, forever for her, for as long as she would put up with him.

  One hand teasing her clit, the other laid flat to support his weight, he laid out across her back to nip at the ridge of her ear. A light, contented gasp was his reward, and Luka grinned. It wasn't just the touch of his teeth that had left her breathless — the girth of his shaft had slid against the cheeks of her ass, promising more to come.

  His finger toyed with her, driving her to the insanity of bliss. When Ciara arched up against him with more force, body trembling with desire, he knew it was time.

  He pushed his cock into her until his hips smacked her ass. Ciara cried out in pleasure and pressed down against him, and he held nothing back. The tight confines of her body had felt fantastic before, and he was eager to feel all of her again. Before long, Luka buried himself inside of her, driving himself deeper inside her than he ever had before. His hips worked at an eager pace to drive them both towards climax.

  Heat. Movement. Sweat. Need.

  Higher thoughts were eviscerated, removed to make room for the animalistic. Luka drove her higher yet, hooking his finger around her body to continue to tease her swollen clit, even as his girth brought her to greater heights. Ciara moaned, arching against him, it was no surprise to him when her orgasm arrived abruptly.

  A tremendous, rippling tightening of her sex squeezed his length and chased his own orgasm from his depths. Luka's free hand moved up her body until it grabbed her by her long throat. His firm grip pulled her deep onto his cock, yet he managed to keep the presence of mind to restrain his fingers from crushing her windpipe. Moans escaped her lips and Luka plunged his finger into her soft mouth as warm jets of his seed impacted her walls deep. Panting, adrenaline exhausted, he pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades.

  "I love you, too," he repeated for the final time, this time knowing that she heard. "And I'll never let you go again."

  * * *

  Ciara

  "Stop fidgeting," Lisa scolded as she shifted her weight back and forth on the hair metal chair. They were the same type Ciara sat on in high school during band class, and they were just as uncomfortable now as they were then. If only she'd brought a pillow. The cold metal bit into the backs of her exposed thighs through her nylons and added a fresh layer to the discomfort.

  "It's cold," Ciara whispered back, gripping at the front of her seat on either side of her legs.

  Luka had asked her to sit up at the front beside Lisa. Beside her and behind her were other members of the campaign, largely members of the staff. The cluster of chairs were isolated from the rest of the floor, where reporters mingled.

  Somewhere out there, Luka was among them. Each time the doors opened, a new wave of cold air entered and chilled the venue's guests. It had been three hours since she'd first arrived at the venue and still her chair hadn't warmed because of it.

  "It's going to stop being cold in about sixty seconds," Lisa said. "It's just about time. The dawn of a new era is about to begin. I guess, no matter what happens, as long as I can still get matcha lattes the future won't be total shit."

  Ciara couldn't help but laugh. The dull buzz of conversation around them quickly drowned the noise out. When the countdown appeared on each of the three large screens on stage, the buzz grew into an enthused murmur. Thirty seconds. Twenty nine. Twenty eight.

  "Where's Luka?" Lisa demanded. Tonight she was wearing a gray power suit, much better fitted to her professional personality than pink pajamas. "Ugh, that boy. I swear, if he doesn't—"

  "If I don't what?" Luka asked from just behind them. Lisa jumped up from her chair in surprise and turned around, raising a hand over her heart. Biting down on her bottom lip was all Ciara could do to keep from laughing.

  From nowhere, Luka had made his way down the aisle of chairs to stand behind them. "You think I'd miss the live coverage of the results from the polling stations? I may be irresponsible, but I like to think I'm more put together than that."

  With Lisa's chair vacated, Luka scooted his way between the seats to claim his spot next to Ciara. He shot a shit-eating grin to Lisa, tucked an arm around Ciara's shoulder, and settled in.

  "What's most terrible about all of this," Lisa told Ciara dryly, "was that his father was the same way, and yet I still agreed to sign up to help the Belmonte campaign. Lord help me if you two have children and I'm still around and brilliant when they're old enough to run. A third generation will be the end of me." With that said, Lisa turned her sights on the employee who sat next to Luka and shooed him away so she had a place to sit. No one in the office got in the way of Lisa Olsen.

  Ten. Nine. Eight.

  "You know you love us," Luka teased her. "What's life without a little fun, after all?"

  Three. Two. One.

  All at once the lights dimmed, and everyone grew quiet. The three screens suspended from above all tuned to the same news report — live coverage of the results from the election. The polling stations had just closed, and final votes were being tabulated.

  As a reporter went over each candidate's platform, a chart appeared in the corner to track the votes each candidate received. The red bar beside Luka's name had already begun to grow while the others remained well behind.

  "The polls just closed," Ciara murmured into Luka's ear. "Are those projected numbers?"

  Luka's eyes were glued to the nearest screen. There was no tension to speak of in his body, and no doubt in his expression.

  "There are advanced counts done," he told her. "They finalize it once the polls close, but there's no way I can lose." The grin grew. "I did it. We did it."

  "And our early figures show Mr. Luka Belmonte, son of former mayor Marcello Belmonte, is already well in the lead," the newscaster announced with enthusiasm. "If trends like this continue, this could be the biggest landslide victory New York has seen since Mayor Marcello Belmonte's election twenty years ago."

  "That's my boy," Lisa praised him, slapping Luka on the back. From where she sat, she saw how Lisa lit up. Campaigning was her passion, and Ciara was glad that a woman so bold had been able to chase her dreams. All night she'd been doing her best to keep her eyes away from the reporters that roamed the halls to interview campaign members and politicians. The loss of her own dream was still too fresh.

  "How long until they have all the results in?" Ciara asked.

  "An hour. But I don't see anything changing. I've got this." Luka tightened his arm around her and turned his head to press a kiss against her temple. For as cocky as he was, he had every right to be. As the hour passed, the results did not change — Luka's bar grew longer, while the other candidates lagged far behind. Well before the final results were in, Luka's victory had been guaranteed.

  When reporters swarmed their cluster of chairs, Luka pressed a final kiss to the side of Ciara's head, and rose to field their questions. When all the results were in, an announcement played over the loud speakers, and the man wove his way through the masses to approach the stage.

  The metal chair was no longer uncomfortable — all of Ciara's attention was focused on Luka. The fine cut of his gray suit made him all the more handsome, but it was his confidence that really made him shine. As he took to the stage the crowds cheered, and Ciara's grin grew.

  This wasn't only a victory for Luka, it was a victory for herself. For as much as she mourned the loss of her career, there were many more opportunities to come. Luka's victory meant that all kinds of doors would be opening for them, and Ciara was confident she would find a new path to follow. Her dreams of New York weren't dead, not just yet.

  Even the threat of the mafia wasn't enough to keep her away. Now that Luka had been elected into office, she had a feeling many of their problems would start to disappear. A man in a position of power like that could hold his own, she was sure. But beyond all else, Ciara knew that whatever happened, Luka would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

  Cameras flashed and video recorders played
as Luka made his way across the stage to the podium set front and center. With either hand he gripped the edges of its surface, and before he spoke, he looked out over the crowd that had assembled.

  His brown eyes met Ciara's, and he held her gaze for a long moment. A serene smile spread his lips, and Ciara's heart soared. Love. She'd never felt it before, but now that she had Luka, she knew that she'd found it. The very sight of him perked her spirits, and thoughts of him occupied her idle mind.

  "I can't tell you what it means to be standing here before you," Luka said at last. The eye contact he shared with Ciara broke as he spoke to the crowd at large. "It's clear that New York is looking for change, and you've found that change in me. It's an honor to have so much faith invested in me."

  A cheer spread through the crowd like fire across dry plains. Ciara found herself cheering as well, cheeks aching from how she smiled. Luka's victory meant more to her than she ever would've imagined.

  "The issues that New York faced two decades ago are not the ones she faces today, but what I have learned from my father's time in power will translate into success in the future. And I am thrilled that you will allow me to share my experience with you."

  Several of the larger television cameras crowded the stage, shooting Luka from up close. Belmonte was already a household name, but now it would regain its relevance. Ciara had yet to see Marcello that evening, but she was sure that wherever he was, he was proud of his son.

  "Whether or not you voted for me, I think we can all agree on one thing." The murmur of the crowd died down as Luka paused, lending impact to the words to follow. "New York is a beautiful place filled with people who make a difference, both to the city herself, and to the world. At the heart of it all, it's the well-being of the people that interests me, and will continue to interest me. You are the blood that runs through New York's veins. You are the breath she takes, and every thought she has. Together we will come together to make this city the very best she can be."