Depraved

by Pucci, Trilina

  Depraved

  The Sinful Series, Book Three

  2019 © Trilina Pucci LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including by photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written permission from the author, except for inclusions or brief quotations in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Other Books

  About the Author

  An insatiable, intense and selfish desire for something, especially wealth and power.

  “SCUSAMI.” EXCUSE ME.

  The tailor interrupts me and my brothers, holding up another fitted tuxedo shirt for me to try on. I’ve been here for an hour being fitted for my goddamn wedding tuxedo. The things I do for this woman.

  I shrug off the previous shirt I’d tried but couldn’t button.

  “You’re so swole,” Luca teases like the asshole he is.

  “Who the fuck says that?” Dom chimes in as he adjusts his bow tie.

  “Shut it, dick.” I laugh, rolling my eyes at Luca. “He’s just jealous because I can kick his ass… Need a reminder?”

  Luca grumbles, undoing his collar. “Fucking monkey suits. I’ve never enjoyed them.”

  I nod my agreement as our tailor, Sal, helps me into my shirt. I push my arm through the sleeve, but Sal stops, staring at me with concern. I pull my brows together, confused by his abrupt halt.

  “Sal. Why are we stopping?”

  “I apologize, signore. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  His old eyes drop down to where the nasty scar from my first and only gunshot wound mars my arm.

  “It’s fine, old man. Your eyes are tired. That’s an old wound.” I frown, the memory flitting through my mind.

  He laughs and continues to help me on with my shirt, and my brothers look at me solemnly, knowing that I didn’t just lose some skin and blood that day.

  “If you don’t mind me asking…” Sal coaxes, his curiosity getting the better of him.

  “It’s a gunshot wound.”

  The surprise on his face is evident by his wide eyes. “I hope they paid for that, Mr. Sovrano. Who would be stupid enough to shoot you?”

  My face grows serious at the thought.

  “My late wife.”

  LIFE IS CRAZY, WICKED, AND beautiful—but only if you fight hard enough to endure it. Today I watched my brother marry the love of his life. Two years ago, I didn’t even know Luca existed, Dominic either, but now I can’t remember a time without them.

  I stood next to Luca as a co-best man with Dominic and watched him look at the woman who loves him fiercely and promise to always protect her.

  But Luca’s not the only one who protects her now. Today, we all came together to make his same vow.

  Gretchen’s married in.

  The mafia is our family. Our lifeline. Our legacy.

  Me, Dominic, Luca—we’re brothers by blood, created by our father. But Antonio, Nico, Vincenzo, and Matteo—they’re brothers because of the blood we’ve spilled together.

  All six of us stood at Luca’s side knowing that what’s precious to him has now become just as important to us.

  That’s our way.

  More importantly, that’s my way, as head of this family.

  I tip my chin up, blowing a thick cloud of smoke from my lips where we’re now seated outside around a table adorned with fancy flowers and candles, smoking our cigars and laughing about the night.

  The sky is black, empty of even the stars, but the bulbs that hang outside over our heads reflect tiny halos of light that strike against the darkness. The halos seem misplaced—we’re far from sainthood, but I guess even the devil was an angel once.

  I look around the patio and through the glass wall that separates us from the party inside. Luca had this bar decked out to the nines, not that much work was needed, seeing as Charlie’s on First has the kind of sexy ambience that lends to jazz music and good scotch.

  I wasn’t surprised when Luca said he was using this joint for his reception. This place means something to him and Gretchen. Even though I thought this bar was a good venture for us, I’m pretty sure he bought this for her or at least because of her.

  Because that’s what men do.

  We collect that which we don’t want anyone else to touch. We’re greedy by nature, making sure to possess all the things that elude us, the beautiful treasures we want. Whether it’s money, power, or women, our nature tells us there’s never enough.

  And for men with flexible morals, that desire makes us dangerous. Because love is the only other emotion past hate that can ruin men like us and also give us purpose. Once we feel either down to our core, we’ll never have enough.

  I’m a man who bears a responsibility bigger than himself. For me, love is a myth, but hate…yeah, I got that shit in spades.

  “Luca, your wife has some hot friends. I’m walking around here with a permanent boner,” Matteo throws out, adjusting himself at the table as we all laugh at him.

  “Keep it in your pants—we’re not at Church…” I warn then look over at Luca. “I still can’t believe you blew off your own bachelor party.”

  He shrugs me off, uncaring, and takes a swig of his drink. My gaze drifts inside, back to where it’s been fixed for most of the night: on Sarah London, the curvaceous, raven-haired vixen who manages Church, the exclusive sex club owned by me, Dominic, and Luca.

  The moment I saw Sarah, I was attracted to her. It’s impossible not to be. She’s gorgeous, a pinup hiding behind a demure smile and unreadable eyes.

  My thoughts begin to wander as I stare at her. Tilting my head and taking another puff of my cigar, I wonder whether she likes it rough or soft. If she likes to be held down, tied up…or maybe she likes to kneel.

  The vision of her on her knees, waiting at my feet, makes my dick jump.

  I see Luca nudge Dom to pay attention. Dom’s face swings my way, and he smacks the back of my head.

  “She’s like our sister,” he growls.

  I bring my hand to my head and laugh. “Then I want to fuck our sister.”

  Antonio spits out his beer as
we howl with laughter.

  Luca pushes me, and I chuckle, puffing my cigar again. “She’s smoking hot. I’m supposed to ignore that?” I jokingly complain to Matteo, who shrugs sympathetically, laughing again.

  The glass door swings open and Blair, one of Gretchen’s friends, pops her head out into our outdoor man cave.

  “Fellas, the bride wants her groom. You have ten minutes to wrap it up.”

  Blair’s hot in a sophisticated, cultured way. Not my type. I like ’em a little dirty. And the blue eyes I see behind Blair seem to call out to that part of me. Sarah may look sweet, but she’s anything but. I can feel it.

  “Oh, I’ll wrap it up unless you prefer something else…” Matteo flirts with Blair, and we all throw napkins, ice, and whatever else is in our hands at him for his offense, but Blair just laughs.

  “Stow it, pretty boy. What are you, twelve?” she chides as Sarah slips up next to her, eyes on me and a saucy smile growing on her lips.

  “In inches?” Matteo raises his brows, and Vincenzo pushes his shoulder, but Blair grins sinfully.

  Blair walks closer, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head back roughly. Bringing her lips dangerously close to his, skimming back and forth, barely touching, she purrs, “You can’t handle me. Come see me when you have something to offer and bring your A game because I don’t give second chances.”

  I raise my brows to Antonio, and he shakes with laughter.

  Blair releases Matteo’s head with a little jerk and walks back inside, but Sarah lingers for a moment at the door, looking back at me. I notice Antonio reach out, but she pulls back before he touches her hand, raising an eyebrow at him.

  I can’t hide the smirk that graces my face as I watch.

  “Hey, beautiful, save me a dance?” Antonio asks as smoothly as he can.

  My eyes stay trained on her for her answer, but when hers dart to mine, I bring my cigar to my lips, shaking my head minutely as I take in a few quick draws, watching her bite her bottom lip.

  Sarah looks back to Antonio and nods her head. Fuck. She’s a saucy little thing.

  If that’s how you want to play this…get ready, gorgeous.

  Matteo turns to the group, interrupting my focus, and bites his fist.

  “I think I just met the future Mrs. Prozzi.”

  The howls and laughter start again, but this time, I don’t join. I’m too busy watching Sarah saunter across the room to the bar. That ass is trouble. Fuck me, I want to be in trouble. So fucking bad.

  “Let’s go before Gretchen kills us,” Nico laughs out.

  We all stand, buttoning our jackets to walk back inside, but before we get inside, I reach out for Antonio.

  “Not her,” I say, pointing a finger at Sarah. “She’s nobody to you. We clear?”

  Antonio laughs. “Crystal,” he says, chuckling, and walks ahead into the bar.

  If anyone leaves with that woman tonight, it’ll be me, or they’ll be leaving in a fucking hearse because she’s something I want.

  And I’ll be collecting all her pleasure tonight.

  Sarah’s been nursing that third glass of wine for the last half an hour. I’ve watched her politely speak to everyone who approaches her and turn down every man who’s asked her to dance.

  But my favorite part is how she always finds my eyes in the room after she does, seeking my approval, and each time, I give it with a wink. I like this little game we’re playing. This silent understanding we’re establishing.

  Nothing unless I say so.

  Dominic walks up with his wife, Drew, and slaps me on the back. “We’re taking off, brother. My girl’s tired.”

  Nodding, I lean down and kiss Drew’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, beautiful. Make your boy take care of the kiddos tonight.”

  She smiles back at me, squeezing my arm, and looks over her shoulder to Sarah. “D… Stop staring at her and go talk to her already. I thought you had game.”

  A laugh rumbles in my chest, and Dom grabs for her as she squeals, covering her giggling mouth. He circles her waist, lifting her off the ground.

  I shake my head, still smiling, “Get out…go home, trouble.”

  He sets her down, giving me a jerk of his head as Drew wraps her arms around his waist while they walk out to their waiting car.

  Bringing the scotch to my mouth, I let the cool liquor slip past my lips, my eyes searching the room again. No Sarah.

  She’s gone.

  My head swings around more obviously, searching as I see a glimpse of her silver dress walk around the corner toward the restrooms, her eyes finding mine as she pauses to make sure I see her.

  The idea of pulling her into a dark corner with everyone only a stone’s throw away makes my feet carry me with purpose toward where I’ve been beckoned.

  I don’t think twice as I round the corner into the dark, empty hallway, my hand gripping the corner of the wall, but my feet slow as I’m enveloped by the darkness.

  The only light illuminating the space is coming from a bathroom door because it’s open…cracked just enough so that I can see her standing in the entry area of the women’s bathroom.

  I move in farther, watching with interest, leaning my shoulder against the wall.

  She’s in front of a velvet, round pink ottoman that’s in the middle of the room. Her high-heeled foot is on it, dress split, exposing her thigh, with hands on her leg as she adjusts the goddamn garters she has on.

  She’s a goddamn vision.

  My cock starts to push against the fabric inside my slacks, so I reach down, adjusting myself, relishing the feel of pressure against my dick.

  Sarah brushes her shiny, straight hair over her shoulder, bringing her chin to it and locks eyes with me. Her gaze drifts down to my hand that’s still on my cock, and the sexiest smile graces her lips.

  Everything stops.

  All my thoughts.

  All the sounds.

  All my breaths.

  It all stops.

  The only thing I see, hear, and feel is Sarah.

  I see her hands reach for her ankle. Hear the sound of her fingertips running up her leg against the sheer fabric covering her supple skin. And feel her need, her desire, her fucking challenge.

  Sarah’s hands stop on her thigh, and my eyes drift back to her face, appreciative of the show. Bringing her leg down, she slowly turns to face me then walks toward where I’m watching.

  The minute her hand lands on the door, she licks her bottom lip, dragging it between her teeth. “Let me know when you get tired of just watching.”

  My mouth opens, but before I can answer, the door closes right in my grinning face.

  Fuck. I’m going to break this girl in so damn hard tonight.

  I turn and groan, looking down at my half-hard cock, and shake my head as I walk back out to say my goodbyes.

  Time for me and Sarah to become more intimately acquainted.

  I PAT SOME COLD WATER on the back of my neck to try and cool myself down. Holy hell. That man is a gorgeous piece of meat, and I desperately want to take a bite.

  The water runs over my fingertips, falling in between them as I smile at myself in the mirror. I can’t believe I just teased him like that. It’s as if all good decision has flown out of the window.

  But fuck it. Weddings are for one-night stands.

  And it’s been a while. A really long while.

  I deserve to let go. Finally.

  The first time I laid eyes on him, I couldn’t help but add him to my fantasy reel.

  I’ve only met Dante in passing a few times and always when it’s business related. Thank god his business is Church, or I would’ve never gotten a glimpse of him shirtless. Talk about perks of the job.

  He’s insanely hot.

  Dante’s a six-foot-two god, with his delicious olive skin and shaved inky-black hair on display in a muscular frame covered in tattoos.

  Tattoos that run from his neck over his shoulder and all the way down his arm to the hand that I hope wraps around my
throat as he fucks me into sheer bliss.

  A half-laugh escapes my lips over my dirty thoughts, and I step back from the mirror, giving myself one last look.

  Here we go.

  I grab the door handle, pausing for a moment and wondering if he’ll be on the other side. But the moment I open it, I know he’s gone, even before I look down the hallway.

  Dante has a presence; you can feel him in the room. Everyone can. He’s a dangerous, powerful man, and that’s catnip for this pussy.

  I walk back into the party, heading straight for the bar. I’m going to need some more liquid courage, but a waiter approaches with a glass of red wine, extending it out to me.

  “This is from Mr. Sovrano. He said to tell you to say your goodbyes; the two of you will be leaving soon.”

  A half laugh escapes my mouth, and I’m certain I look stupefied as I accept the wine. I did tell Dante to let me know when he was tired of just watching. What did I expect?

  “Thank you,” I answer, searching over and around people for my dirty benefactor, but I don’t see him.

  Warm breath sends goose bumps up my neck, and I grin. Sneaky.

  “You look stunning tonight.”

  I stop mid-sip, realizing it’s not Dante behind me. Pivoting and taking a step back, I’m met with a familiar face. A client of Church, a very prominent CEO of a telecommunications company and the pig that’s been sniffing around me for months.

  No matter how many times I say I’m not interested, this guy’s stayed persistent. I could tell Dom and Luca; they would kick him out…or maybe worse. But I won’t, because I can handle him myself.

  I’m not the kind of girl who needs rescuing. Never have been.

  “It’s nice to see you, Bill, but I don’t remember you being on the guest list,” I reply snidely, rolling my eyes and turning to the side, effectively dismissing him.

  “I wasn’t,” he answers with an amused laugh at my dig. “I was passing by, coincidentally, and thought I’d pop in and say congratulations.”

  “Well then, I’ll let you get to it,” I answer, turning my head toward him, but when I turn away, I’m met with a scowling Dante glaring at me. Uh-oh, Bill.