Amore: Part 1

by Bella Jewel

  “This is getting dangerous, boss.”

  I nod. “We need to call a meeting. Now.”

  He nods.

  I stare at my burning building. It’s safe to say that now, we’re at war.

  I just don’t know who we’re at war with.

  CHAPTER 17

  JULIETTA

  “Sweetie, wake up.”

  I blink, confused for a moment. My body is being shaken.

  “Julie.”

  I blink again and see Celia leaning over me. It takes me a few seconds to realize I’m on her couch. I fell asleep here. Shit. I sit up. “Is everything okay?”

  I study her face using the hallway light now filling the room, and my heart leaps into my throat.

  “What is it?” I say, quickly. “Is it Mama? Daddy?”

  “Honey, Rafael’s club exploded tonight.”

  It takes me a moment to register those words. “What?” I breathe.

  “It blew up. Like, literally.”

  I launch out of the sofa, stumbling forward as my tired body rejects the quick movement. Panic seizes my chest and for a few agonizing moments, I don’t think I’ll get a solid breath into my lungs.

  “Hey,” Celia says. “Calm down.”

  “Is he okay?” I cry, fumbling for my phone.

  “I don’t know; they’re not saying.”

  “I need to call him.”

  Oh God. Please let him be okay. Tears well under my eyelids, and I frantically dial his number. It rings, and rings. He’s not answering. Oh God. He’s not answering. My knees tremble, and I’m forced to sit back down. I punch out a text message.

  Julie – Please tell me you’re okay.

  I sit, staring at my phone. He doesn’t text back. I leap back up. My entire body shakes and yet I feel nothing. “I’m going down there.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Celia says.

  “I don’t care. I need to know he’s okay. Oh, God, Celia, what if he was hurt?”

  “Hey,” she says, grabbing my shoulders. “You need to stay calm. I’m coming with you.”

  She grabs her keys, and we run out to her car. I launch myself into the passenger side. The pain in my chest, the lump in my throat, and the dropping sensation in my stomach are nearly enough to make me break down and scream. I close my eyes as Celia starts driving. Please, oh please, let him be okay.

  We arrive at the club and there are police cars, traffic, and people everywhere. The second I lay my eyes on the mess that’s left, my heart launches into my throat and a sob is ripped from my mouth. Smoke pours out from the gaping open spaces that were once walls. There are no flames, but half the building has crumbled.

  I practically throw myself out of the car and run into the mass of people. Celia calls my name, but I don’t stop. My eyes scan the crowd. There are injured people sitting on the pavement and paramedics everywhere, but I can’t see him. Tears run down my cheeks as I shove around, frantically asking people if they’ve seen Rafael. Nobody answers me. My knees tremble as I stand in an empty spot, my eyes scanning the people.

  “Baby.”

  My knees buckle, and an arm goes around my middle, stopping me from falling to the ground. I’m pulled backwards into a hard, very alive chest. I spin around, looking into the eyes of the man I’ve so stupidly gone ahead and fallen in love with. He’s covered in ash, but he’s not hurt. I take a shaky step forward and my head falls into his chest. His arms hug me tighter, and for a second, I don’t think even he cares that we’re in public.

  “You’re alive,” I croak, inhaling the smell of smoke that radiates from his jacket.

  “I’m alive.”

  “Thank God,” I whisper, clutching him so tight I’m scared he’ll break.

  Or I will.

  “It’s not safe here, cara. You need to go home. I’ll come to you when I’ve sorted all this out.”

  He takes my shoulders, pushing me back just enough so he can scan my face. He looks worried, stressed, and exhausted. I reach up, cupping his cheek. “What happened?”

  “It’s a long story. Go home. That’ll make me happy.”

  Anything to make him happy right now. I nod. “Okay. Do you need anything?”

  He reaches up, stroking a thumb over my bottom lip. “Be waiting for me. I’ll need you.”

  God. “Always,” I whisper.

  Stupid, stupid girl.

  ~*~*~*~

  JULIETTA

  It takes a solid week for Rafael to deal with what went down at the club. He hasn’t told me much, but I saw on the news that it was a suspected pair of bombers. That terrifies me because if I’m right, that means someone wants Rafael and his family dead and doesn’t mind killing innocent people to take them out. The very thought of the body count and losing him terrifies me. God, it scares the ever-loving hell out of me.

  He comes to me each night, taking what he needs—comfort and sex. I give it to him willingly, anything to feel his body on mine and his lips against my skin, to hear his voice in my ear.

  I’m screwed.

  “You look tired today.”

  I flinch at the sound of Jacob’s voice and turn to see him standing at the end of the bed I just finished stripping. His eyes drop to my lips, and I pretend not to notice, but ugh, the now constant come-ons have begun to make my skin crawl. “Jacob,” I say.

  “Have you been resting after your shifts?”

  “Of course. It’s just been a hectic week.”

  “Yes, indeed it has. Listen, would you like to take your break now and come and get some dinner with me? You look like you could eat.”

  “I would,” I say quickly, too quickly. “But I really should be finishing up these jobs.”

  “It’ll be half an hour. I’d love to take you out.”

  I study him. Does he not know how to take a hint? “Jacob, I’ve already told you I’m kind of seeing someone. He probably wouldn’t like me going to dinner with another man.”

  “’Kind of’ doesn’t sound very committed to me. It’s just dinner.”

  “I can’t. I’m really sorry.”

  I go to brush past him but his hand comes out, curling around my wrist. He jerks me towards him, not aggressively, but it makes my skin crawl and my body go on high alert all the same. “I’m really worried about you.”

  His mouth is way too close to mine. I tug my arm from his. “I appreciate your concern, but really, I’m fine.”

  I rush off before he has a chance to say anything else. I work until I see him come back from his break, then I finally take mine. I pull my phone out and see a message from Rafael.

  Rafael – You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday tomorrow.

  Dammit. I was hoping to slip that one right past him.

  Julie – You know way too much. It’s creepy.

  Rafael – It’s my job. I’m going to take you to dinner.

  I blink and re-read the message. He’s going to take me to dinner? Rafael Lencioni is going to take me to dinner? In public?

  My heart does a happy little squee and I try very hard, and fail, not to get excited and hopeful.

  Julie – You are?

  Rafael – Yes. I am. Be ready at 7. I’ll pick you up.

  Julie – What will I wear?

  Rafael – You look beautiful no matter what you wear.

  God.

  He’s so freaking perfect.

  ~*~*~*~

  RAFAEL

  I check my watch. It’s six p.m. I’m meant to be getting Julie at seven.

  I make a low, throaty growl and turn to Vincent. “Where is this fucker?”

  “Don’t know, boss,” he says, pacing my office. “Benito said he was bringing him in an hour ago.”

  “I’ve got places to be. Ring him again.”

  Vin nods and calls Benito once more. No answer. He tries once more for good measure—still no answer.

  Fuck.

  “Any idea what the fuck is going down?” I ask, shooting back more whiskey.

  “I d
on’t have a good feeling about it, boss. I really don’t.”

  “Give him half an hour more. If he doesn’t come, we’ll go and find him.”

  “You think this guy he’s gone to pick up is sketchy?”

  My shoulders tighten. Everything is going to shit right in front of my eyes, and it seems I’m fucking powerless to stop it. “I fuckin’ hope not. After the club, I don’t know how much more shit I can take.”

  “Have you gotten any closer to figuring out who those two men were and if they are connected to the rest of this shit?”

  “I’ve got Riccardo tracking down the man they planted to distract us; I’m hoping he can give some more insight. Though, if he’s the blubbering, pathetic mess he was the other night, I highly doubt we’ll get much out of him.”

  “You still looking into Julietta’s father?”

  I stiffen again, reaching up and rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, something is off there. I don’t know what, but it is.”

  Vin sighs. “We’ll sort it. I’m going to call Ben again.”

  He dials the number, and I glance down at my phone. 6:10. Fuck.

  My office door swings open and Benito stumbles in, clutching his side. Blood soaks his shirt and his fingers. I’m out of my chair before he’s even taken a step. I run over, clutching his shoulders. “Fuck. What happened?”

  “Shot at. Didn’t see who. Fuck.”

  “Fuck,” Vin growls, supporting Ben from the other side. “We gotta get you to the hospital.”

  “Think it’s just a graze,” Ben grates out between clenched teeth.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say, letting him go and moving towards my phone. “We gotta get you looked at.”

  “Someone is out to get us, boss,” Benito groans. “It’s getting bad.”

  Yeah. It fucking is.

  I shoot out a quick text to Julie.

  Rafael – Can’t make it. Sorry.

  I’m a prick.

  A giant fucking prick.

  But I have a job to do.

  CHAPTER 18

  JULIETTA

  “Dick,” Celia says, shoving the bottle of vodka back towards me.

  “Giant dick,” I mumble, taking another swig of the burning, revolting liquid.

  “We should egg his house.”

  I giggle. “Probably. That would teach him.”

  “Where do you think he lives?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. They’ve got another club on the south side. It’s shittier than the other one, but they’ve opened it up while the new one gets fixed. He’s probably there. He’s always busy with his fucking work.”

  “We should totally go.”

  I shake my head. “No way. He doesn’t deserve that kind of reaction.” I hiccup.

  There’s a knock at the door.

  Celia and I look at each other. “Do you think that’s him?” she whispers.

  My eyes get big. “Oh my God, what if it’s him?”

  “Let me get it.”

  She launches up and starts running to the door, but I grab her legs and haul her back down, causing her to splat in a less-than-ladylike position on the ground. She tries to scurry forward. I throw my body down over hers. “No,” I cry as she still tries to crawl towards the door. “You’re not supposed to know about him.”

  “Screw him. I’m going to rip his balls out and shove them right up his ass.”

  We move like snails across the floor, me straddling her back, her still managing to pull herself slowly towards the door.

  The knock sounds out again.

  “Delivery!” someone calls.

  I stop fighting her. Huh?

  “Delivery?” she whispers. “Get it!”

  I get off her back and run to the door, opening it. There’s a young man standing, looking bored. He’s got a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Are you Julietta?”

  I nod.

  “These are for you.”

  He thrusts the flowers at me, and disappears down the hall. I shut the door and glance down at the lovely display of roses. I pull out the card and read it. “Julie, sorry I didn’t make dinner. I’ll make it up to you. R.”

  “Oh. No. He. Didn’t,” Celia cries after jerking the card from my hand. “He didn’t send jewelry, or show up on your doorstep singing a damned sorry song—the fucker sent you flowers!”

  I open my mouth, then close it, and anger bubbles in my chest.

  “You deserve for him to at least show up and fuck your brains out,” she cries.

  “That fucker,” I breathe.

  “That fucker.”

  “Celia,” I say, turning to her. “Get dressed. We’re going clubbing.”

  Her eyes get wide and she squeals. “Yes!”

  An hour and two more shots of vodka later, and we’re lining up at the other club owned by Rafael’s family. I don’t know if he’ll be here, but considering it’s a gloomy Saturday night and it’s late, I’m guessing he might be. Someone will be, anyway. When we reach the bouncer, I look up at him and say, “Can you tell me if Rafael is in tonight?”

  His eyes narrow, and he immediately looks suspicious, which tells me Rafael is indeed here. Good.

  “Who are you?”

  “Nobody. I am just a fan of his clubs and was hoping to catch a glimpse.”

  “He isn’t here,” he mutters, stamping our hands. “What are the flowers for?”

  “It’s a friend’s birthday,” I say innocently.

  “I’ll need to check them.”

  I thrust the flowers at him, and he checks them before handing them back and letting us through. I look behind us and see him radioing something in, eyes still on me.

  “He’s totally here.” Celia grins.

  My heart pounds as we move into the club that’s similar to the newer one that got blown up. It’s older, but it’s neat. It’s probably only half the size, but it’s packed. Celia and I move into the middle of the dance floor and to the left I see an office with the blinds down. I’d bet a hundred he’s in there.

  I’m right.

  The door opens and he steps out, followed by Vin. Their eyes scan the crowd, no doubt looking for the suspicious girl holding flowers.

  “Now is your moment,” Celia says, shoving me towards them.

  I take a deep breath, and then I storm towards Rafael. He notices me about halfway there, and his eyes widen. He puts a hand up to say something or stop me, I don’t know which. I reach him, lift the flowers, and slap him across the face with them. Then I shove them in his chest, sending little roses crumpling all over the ground.

  “I deserved at least jewelry, fucker.”

  Then, I step back, flip him the bird, and storm out, not before I hear Vincent say, “Fuck, I like her.”

  Celia is distracted already by a handsome man, so I storm right past her and out the front door. I’ll text her and tell her I’ve gone. It’s now pouring rain outside, God dammit. I don’t stop. I run down the sidewalk, past the line-up for the club huddled under the building’s overhang and towards the line of cabs waiting to take people home. I’m soaked in a matter of minutes. Just before I reach the taxis a hand curls around my upper arm and I’m jerked backwards into a side alley.

  I squeal, but stop quickly when my body is slammed against a brick wall and Rafael is pressing against me, an angry expression on his face.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  “I thought it was fairly clear,” I snap at him.

  He’s soaked, his hair stuck to his forehead. Why does he have to be so damned attractive? Seriously? It’s rude and doesn’t help my anger.

  “You come into my club, slap me with flowers, flip me the bird, and then storm out, and you think that’s okay?”

  “Bite me.”

  His eyes flare. “Tone down the attitude, Julietta.”

  “Or what?” I growl into his face. “You stood me up, and then you sent me fucking flowers. How very cheap of you.”

  He growls.

  I love pissing him off.
/>   “Last warning.”

  I snort in his face. “I think it’s time you find another toy to play with, Raf. I don’t like giant dicks.”

  He reaches up, tangling his hand into my hair. He jerks it back, exposing my neck. His mouth closes around it, biting down hard. I cry out, but damned if it doesn’t turn me on.

  “I think you do like giant dicks,” he growls, finding my lips and kissing me so hard it hurts.

  I bite his tongue.

  With a hiss, he pulls back. “You’re going to pay for that little act tonight.”

  “How about”—I lean in until our lips are nearly touching—“you go fuck yourself.”

  He moves quickly then, jerking my dress up and grabbing my leg, bringing it around his hip. I try to slap him, but he catches my hand and slams it above my head. I’m so turned on I can feel the heat from my arousal all the way down to my soaked panties, but I’m not about to let him know that. I snap my teeth at him as he rips, I mean literally, my panties off and tosses them on the ground. With his free hand, he frees his cock.

  “I’m going to teach you to keep that pretty little mouth shut.”

  He positions his cock at my entrance and drives home. I scream, he grunts, and then he fucks me against the wall, so damned hard the cold, rough bricks tear into my skin. Rain pours down over us, soaking our bodies, delving deep into our skin, but that doesn’t stop him. He fucks me with a ferocity that should scare me, but instead it makes me want him more.

  “Jerk,” I groan.

  “Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He pulls his cock out just as I’m about to come and a pained, agonized whimper leaves my mouth.

  “Get on your knees.”

  I do as he asks, because I really, really want to.

  He takes his cock and pushes it between my lips. I can taste myself on him, and I’m not going to lie—it turns me on.

  “Lick all of that off.”

  I groan, licking myself off him as I reach down and press my fingers between my legs.

  “Get your fingers out of there,” he orders.

  I ignore him.

  “Now,” he barks.

  With a whimper, I pull my fingers from my pussy and suck him as hard and deep as I can.