Waiting for my Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance

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Waiting for my Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 11

by Cates, Georgia

He takes the bill from my hand and points to a room at the top of the stairs. “VIP room.”

  I should have known.

  “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t tell you anything, got it?”

  “Understood.”

  Elena and Natala are on the dance floor with a couple of guys, so I forgo stopping by to tell them I’m going upstairs. I don’t think they really care anyway.

  A burly huge man uses his arm to block me. “Sorry. Can’t let you go up there.”

  “I’m Emilia Bellini. Luca Rossini is my fiancé.”

  “This one’s telling the truth. This woman will soon be my brother’s wife.”

  I turn at the sound of the voice and see a guy who clearly must be Luca’s brother. They could almost pass for twins.

  “See? I’m not lying.”

  The man steps aside and allows both of us to pass.

  “I’m sorry we weren’t officially introduced the night your family brought you to my parents’ house. I’m Stephan.”

  I have absolutely no memory of seeing this guy at the Rossini compound. But that’s no surprise. I was out of my mind with fear and anxiety.

  “I’m Emilia.”

  He smiles. “Yeah, I know who you are.”

  We ascend the winding staircase, Luca’s brother leading me.

  “Is he expecting you?”

  “No. He has no idea I’m here.” I’m sure he thinks I’m at home in bed.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “He’s probably going to be pretty pissed off about me coming.”

  “Probably. And I’m thrilled to be the one who got you in. I can’t wait to see his face when he sees you here.”

  “Do you need to prepare me for what I’m about to walk in to?”

  “You had the guts to show up here uninvited. I have a feeling that you’re more than capable of handling what you’re about to see.”

  Shit. I don’t like the way that sounds.

  Stephan opens the door, and I walk into the dimly lit room. There are tables lining each side of the large space and every one of them is surrounded by people.

  “Last table on the left,” Stephan says.

  “Thanks.”

  I walk the length of the room, and my eyes roam for Luca as I approach his table. And then I see him, surrounded by his guys. He doesn’t notice me, and I take the brief moment to observe him in this environment.

  A whiskey in one hand.

  A burning cigar between his index and middle finger, half smoked.

  Several thin white lines on the table waiting to be snorted.

  One of the guys at this table leans over and sucks the white powder up his nose. When he finishes, he holds out the rolled bill to Luca.

  I stop, frozen in place, and my heart sinks when he takes the bill from his friend.

  We agreed, Luca. You told me you wouldn’t do cocaine while we were trying to conceive. You promised me you would stop because you wanted your son to be healthy. But you lied.

  I should have known I couldn’t trust an addict to stop.

  My sinking heart is thrown a preserver when Luca passes the bill to the next guy without partaking. Completely unaware that I’m here and watching, he kept his promise to me. That means something to me.

  “Chickening out?”

  “I don’t chicken out.”

  Stephan chuckles. “No, I bet you don’t.”

  I’m almost to the table when a pretty blonde in a very short dress plants herself in Luca’s lap and presses a kiss to his mouth. I stop again, frozen, and I’m not sure how to label the feeling in my gut. But betrayal feels like a good start.

  This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.

  “Who is that woman?”

  “Angelica.”

  “Is Luca in a relationship with her?”

  “I think that’s a question Luca should answer.”

  The woman stops kissing him and over her shoulder, his eyes lift and meet mine.

  “Fuck this. I’m out of here.”

  I hear Luca call out my name, and I walk faster, almost sprinting, and I rush down the staircase. Weaving through the crowd, I find Elena and Natala on the dance floor where I left them earlier with the same pair of guys.

  “I need to get out of here.”

  Elena stops dancing. “Why? What happened?”

  I shake my head. “I found him with another woman.”

  “Ah, no way. Are you sure?”

  There was no mistaking that. “She was sitting on his lap and they kissed.”

  I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe him when he said he wouldn’t be with anyone else.

  “I want to get out of here.”

  Elena grabs my hand. “Let’s go to the bathroom and talk about this first.”

  With hesitancy, I follow Elena and Natala to the bathroom, and they huddle me in the corner away from all of the drunk clubbers.

  “I don’t know what you could possibly think there is to discuss.”

  “Running out of here right now makes you look like you care,” Elena says.

  “I do care. That bastard is still fucking around with other women. He could give me a venereal disease.”

  “Running away makes it look as though you’re hurt because he’s with another woman.”

  I think I am hurt.

  “Do you want to give him that kind of satisfaction?”

  “No.”

  “You need to go out there and let him see you having the time of your life. Find a man to dance with. Give that Rossini fucker a healthy dose of his own medicine.”

  “Yeah. I can be with someone else too if he wants to play that game.”

  “That’s our girl.”

  The three of us hit the floor and easily find three men who are eager to dance with us. The guy I partner with certainly doesn’t compare to Luca, but then again, not many men do.

  He leans down so his mouth is near my ear. “What’s your name?”

  “Emilia.”

  “I’m Brian. I’ve never seen you in here before.”

  “It’s my first time at this club.”

  “I hope it won’t be your last.”

  I smile and shrug. “I guess we’ll see.”

  We move to “Stayin’ Alive” and about halfway through the song, Brian grips my waist and pulls me closer, his mouth against my ear again. “I can’t believe you’re dancing with me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re the most beautiful girl in this place.”

  Hmm. I wonder how many times a night he uses that line.

  “That’s a very sweet thing to say. Thank you.”

  “I’m saying it because it’s true.”

  Brian grips my hand and spins me out and then back in. He’s not a bad dancer for an amateur.

  “Do you live around here?”

  Opening my mouth to answer, I don’t get the chance because Luca forces his way between us and pushes Brian backward.

  I shove Luca’s chest, but he doesn’t budge. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Brian regains his footing and advances on Luca. “Not cool, dude.”

  Luca reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a Glock, pointing it directly at Brian’s forehead. “Put your hands on my fiancée again, and I will kill you.”

  “Are you crazy? You can’t pull out a gun in the middle of a club.”

  There’s deadly intent in the way Luca is staring at Brian. A challenge. He’s daring him to make a wrong move. And I’m afraid of what he may do.

  Stepping between them, I grasp Luca’s face. “Look at me.”

  His eyes remain locked on Brian.

  I pull downward on his face. “Luca. Look at me.”

  He hesitates a moment but finally obeys, his eyes meeting mine.

  “Put the gun away.”

  Luca looks back at Brian and then finally lowers his arm, returning his gun to its holster.

  “Get him out of here.”

  T
wo men loop their arms through Brian’s. He looks from one to the other and then at me. “What the hell is this?”

  Luca says nothing, watching as they lead Brian away.

  “Where are they taking him? What are they going to do?”

  “They’ll take him out back and show him why he shouldn’t have put his hands on you.”

  “No, Luca. Please don’t hurt him. We were only dancing. He didn’t know.”

  “He didn’t know but you did. The lesson isn’t his. It’s yours.”

  “I’ve learned… I’ve learned. You don’t have to hurt him.”

  “It wouldn’t be much of a lesson if I didn’t carry through with the teaching.”

  I slap Luca’s face with every bit of my might. “I hate you. You’re a monster.”

  “Yes, I am, and you shouldn’t forget that anytime soon.”

  “I dance with a guy and he gets beat up, but it’s okay for you to make out with some whore on your lap? Did I get that right?”

  Luca grips my upper arm, dragging me across the club. I’m suddenly frightened because I don’t know where he’s taking me or what he’s going to do to me once we get there.

  “Let go of me.”

  His only reply is to tug me harder. Painfully.

  I want to scream for help, but no one would hear me if I did. I could make a scene, but that wouldn’t work either. People would assume I was high and freaking out.

  I’m fucked. No two ways about it.

  Luca leads me up the stairs to a private room on the VIP level, pulling the door closed with a hard thud when we’re inside. He advances toward me and I back away, eventually hitting the wall.

  With his hands on his hips, he stares me down. “I didn’t ask her to sit on my lap, and I sure as hell didn’t ask her to kiss me.”

  “That didn’t look like the case from where I was standing.”

  “I told her to stop and get up.”

  She looked very comfortable with what she was doing. “Have you been seeing her?”

  “Yes, but it’s over.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since you.”

  “I don’t believe that.” I shove at his chest and he doesn’t budge. “I asked you to not sleep with anyone while we’re trying to have a baby. You’re putting my safety and the baby’s at risk by being with other women.”

  I shove harder at his chest and he grips my wrists, pulling me against him. “Listen very carefully to what I’m about to say. I don’t answer to you, princess. Not in any way. If I want another woman in my bed, then I’ll have another woman in my bed. But I haven’t touched Angelica, and I haven’t touched any other woman since you. If I had, I’d tell you so myself.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I have no reason to lie to you.”

  I can’t come up with any kind of argument for that.

  “I’m not a man who will beg and plead for your trust.” He presses me against the wall and pulls up my dress. “Believe me or don’t. It’s your choice, but I’m still going to fuck you and you’re still going to give me a son.”

  I push my fingers into his hair and grip it tightly, tugging and making him hiss.

  “I hate you.”

  He smiles and chuckles. “You wish you hated me.”

  His mouth crashes against mine, and his tongue pushes its way into my mouth. I turn my face away, fighting and pushing at his shoulders. My dress bunched at my waist, I press my thighs together when he grasps my panties and drags them down my legs.

  “You also wish you didn’t want me to fuck you against this wall right now.”

  My flat palms come down hard against his chest. “I don’t.”

  “Liar. Let’s see if I’m right.” He shoves his hand between my legs, one of his fingers gliding through my slick center. “That’s exactly what I thought I’d find waiting for me.”

  His heart is full of darkness, and I hate myself for still wanting every inch of him.

  Luca unfastens his pants and dips his hand inside his boxers, pulling out his cock. He lifts my feet off the floor, and my legs instantly wrap around his torso as though they have a mind of their own, as though they don’t need to hear the command from my brain.

  Wrapping my arms around his shoulders tightly, I suck air in through my clenched teeth when he slides inside me.

  “Fuuuck,” he groans against my ear.

  He grips the underside of my thighs, his fingertips digging into my flesh as he anchors me against the wall and roughly slams into me over and over. My elbows resting on his shoulders, I grip the top of his hair as he bounces me up and down his dick. I’m certain my body will be covered in fresh purple bruises tomorrow.

  “You are mine in a way that no one will ever understand.”

  The door, which Luca obviously didn’t lock, opens, and the club’s music fills the small space we’re in with “Radar Love” by Golden Earring. The room is dimly lit except for the lights flashing through the cracked door, so I can’t make out who our intruder is.

  I don’t think Luca’s aware of our audience. But if he is, it doesn’t faze him because his thrusts don’t let up.

  The silhouette of the person in the doorway belongs to a woman—that much I can tell. And then she opens the door wider and her eyes meet mine. The blonde who was sitting on Luca’s lap kissing him.

  She sees him fucking me, and I’m surprised when she doesn’t turn away and leave. Instead, she watches. It might be cruel, but I’m glad she’s seeing us. I want her to fully understand that I am the reason it’s over between them.

  “Oh fuck, I’m going to come,” Luca growls.

  The blonde. She’s still standing there.

  She wants to watch? Let’s give her a great finale to this show.

  “Fuck me harder, Luca.” I close my eyes and tighten my legs around him, my feet digging into his ass. “Give me your son. Put him inside me. Right now.”

  He pounds harder, and I grip his shoulders as he delivers the final few thrusts. And then he stills, holding me in place against the wall with his cock still inside.

  I open my eyes and he kisses my mouth. “I’m taking you home.”

  Looking over his shoulder, I find the door closed and the blonde gone.

  “Okay, but I want to do that again.”

  18

  Luca Rossini

  Emilia stretches and inhales deeply, a weak moan expelling from her throat as she exhales. “I need to get up.”

  “So do I.”

  She smiles and giggles. “That’s not the kind of need to get up I’m talking about.”

  I stretch and groan as I exhale. “I’m pretty sure it is.”

  “No. I need to be at mass before nine.”

  I lift my head and look over at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s 7:53. I need to be inside you before 7:54.”

  “I don’t have time. I need thirty minutes to get ready, and then it’s a twenty-minute drive. I’ll be late if I don’t get up right now.”

  She rolls over to get out of bed, and I grab her waist, pulling her back into bed. “How about I make you late now so you’ll be late later?”

  Wagging my brows, I wait for a response to my witty comment.

  “Mm-hmm. I see what you did there with that. You’re very clever.”

  “It’s the first day of your fertile window. Don’t you think you should stay in so we can get to work?”

  “None of the signs are there. I don’t think it’s time yet.”

  “What are the signs?”

  “My temperature will increase a little and my—”

  She stops, and I wait for the rest of the sentence, but nothing comes out.

  “Your temperature will rise and your… what?”

  “Oh God.” She grins and takes her pillow from beneath her head, placing it over her face.

  “Tell me.”

  She groans. “My vaginal discharge will become clear and stretchy.”

  “Ohhh. Well, I need to check that.” I
reach out, sliding my hand between her legs, but she grips my wrist and pushes my hand away.

  “We don’t have time.”

  “What if it happens while you’re at mass and we miss our opportunity?”

  “I don’t think the window of opportunity opens and closes that quickly.”

  Taking her pillow, I toss it to the foot of the bed and crawl over her, pressing kisses to the side of her neck. “Don’t go. Let’s do this instead.”

  Her head tilts, offering me full access to her neck. “You are terrible for my eternal life. Since I met you, I’ve missed every Sunday mass, we commit a mortal sin every day, usually multiple times, and I haven’t been to confession once.”

  “True but I give you orgasms. Many of them. And I don’t hear you complaining about that.”

  “No. I don’t have any complaints about those.”

  “Stay and I’ll give you orgasms.”

  “Oh my God. You are the devil.”

  “Never claimed otherwise.”

  She stays.

  We fuck all morning.

  And I give her three orgasms.

  I lie on my back and place my palm against my stomach, rubbing it in a circle. “I’m starving. Believe it or not, it doesn’t matter how much pussy you eat. It never fills you up.”

  She wants to grin. I can see it. And she almost does when the corners of her mouth slightly tug upward. “You are awful.”

  “That’s not what you said while I was feasting between your legs.”

  Shocking this good little Catholic girl is so much fun. Although I’m beginning to question just how good she really is. She gives in to temptation very easily.

  “How does an omelet sound?”

  “I could eat four right now.”

  “How about you start with one, and I’ll cook you another if you’re still hungry?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Sleeping in on Saturday and Sunday. Watching Emilia cook a late breakfast after I’ve spent all morning inside her. This is how I want all of our weekends to be. At least until our first little one arrives and steals this time away from us.

  Emilia slides an enormous omelet from a skillet onto the plate in front of me. “I didn’t say how big the one would be.”

  “It’s enormous.”

  “You said you were starving.”

  “And you took me at my word.”

  “I’m learning to do that with you.”

 

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