Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4)

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Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 34

by Veronica Lancet


  She gives me a tremulous smile, leaning forward to place her head on my shoulder. I tug her into my arms, giving her a hug.

  "They will," I repeat, though even I am not sure of that either.

  But I can see my younger self in Venezia, and how the only thing I'd ever hoped for had been acceptance — somewhere to belong to. For the first time she'd had a semblance of a family, and it had quickly disintegrated.

  "I'm glad you're here with us," she whispers, her eyes damp with unshed tears. "I like having a sister."

  "Me too," I reply, kissing the top of her head. "Me too."

  The situation doesn't improve. With each passing day, Marcello becomes even more withdrawn, spending all the time locked away in his study. The few times I'd tried to reach out he'd made it clear that I'm not welcome and that I should mind my own business.

  When a week's gone by and all my attempts at drawing him out of his shell are in vain, I resort to calling Vlad—the self-confessed thorn in his backside.

  "You're hurting me, hell girl," Vlad complains on the phone when I tell him my idea.

  "You know it's true. So go do your best and annoy Marcello into joining the world of the living again."

  "Fineeee." He relents, even though I can tell that inside he's giddy at the prospect of messing a little with my brother. They certainly have a weird dynamic going.

  A while later, I can tell that Vlad's worked his magic, but not in a good way.

  "Stay away from him, Sisi. I mean it. I made it clear to him that he's not to interact with either you or Venezia, but he can't seem to help himself," Marcello pulls me aside after his meeting with Vlad, looking pissed off.

  "Marcello, I don't understand why you're so against him. You're friends, aren't you?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

  "Friends..." he gives a dry laugh. "Vlad doesn't have friends. He only has people he uses. So don't try to feel sorry for him."

  "What do you mean? What did he ever do to you?" I'm tired of Marcello warning me off Vlad but never telling me anything more.

  "He isn't like other people Sisi. Don't try to find anything good about him because there's none. Yeah, he's damned smart, and he makes sure to use that brain of his to manipulate everyone around him," he continues, and I stifle the urge to roll my eyes.

  "You're still not telling me why you dislike him so much."

  Marcello sighs. "I don't dislike him per se, but I know to be wary of him. He's... unpredictable. He has his interests and he doesn't care who he harms as long as he reaches his goals. Why, he might as well have been the one who put the gun in Valentino's hand," he mutters, and I still.

  "What do you mean?"

  "It's complicated Sisi. I told you, he's not what he seems, and I need you to trust me that no good will come from you being anywhere near him. Only death comes to those who get tangled with him."

  "Fine." I lie to placate him, even though he still hasn't told me why he's so wary of Vlad.

  On the bright side, at least Marcello's speaking to me again.

  As I'm starting to hope that harmony will return to our house, Marcello gets himself into trouble again. Granted, this time it's for saving Lina, but after what he's done to her it's the least he could do.

  I don't realize how bad his situation is, though, until I get to the hospital. Vlad and Adrian are already there, and they tell me that Marcello's had a narrow encounter with death. Lina had gotten away with a few bruises only, and Enzo had managed to convince her to go home and rest.

  "At least there's no more danger, right?" I ask Vlad when we're finally alone. Marcello's been moved to a private salon but the anesthetic hasn't worn off so we can't see him yet.

  "Yes. I killed Nicolo myself. In fact, I have his body in the trunk of my car and I should probably get rid of it soon," he scratches the back of his head, feigning an innocent look.

  "Damn," I swat him, "that's reckless," I say, narrowing my eyes at him, and he looks bashfully away. "You do realize I'm not marrying you in prison." I add, watching a sheepish smile spread on his face.

  "And miss the conjugal visits?" one finger trails down the front of my dress, lightly caressing my nipple.

  "Get your head out of the gutter, mister," I catch his finger, pushing it away, "we need to get rid of that body while my brother is still out of it."

  "I forgot you're not the squeamish type, hell girl," he drawls, caging me against the wall. One look around and I realize we're in full view of the entire hospital.

  "People are watching," I raise my eyes to find him gazing at me with an amused expression on his face.

  "Let them watch," he lowers his mouth to my ear, his voice making the hairs on my body stand up. "You know how my cock reacts every time you're talking murder," he whispers, his tongue sneaking out to lick the lobe of my ear.

  "The murder has already occurred." I mention, trying to steer the conversation to a more serious order of business. "We need to do the clean-up."

  "Doesn't matter, it involves a body. A dead body," he continues, twirling his tongue around my cheek, "you know I love it when you talk corpse to me," he says and I can't stop myself from giggling.

  "Is that so? You love it when I talk corpse to you?" I grab him by the lapels, bringing him into me.

  "Hell girl, you have no idea how hard you made me the first time I saw you push your hand into that nun's guts. Fuck if it wasn't the hottest sight I've ever seen," he rasps against my flesh.

  "Mmm, since it's confession time," I start, watching his pupils dilate with arousal, his nostrils flaring as he pushes himself into me, rubbing his erection against my stomach, "I was dripping wet when you choked me in the church."

  "Sisi," he groans, his shoulders sagging. "You shouldn't say something like that."

  "Why?"

  "It makes me want to do more. Things that would make you scream in pleasure and in pain."

  "Do it," I dare him, wanting everything he has to offer.

  "Fuuuuck!" he takes a deep breath. "Let's get rid of the body."

  A smile pulls at my lips at his obviously frustrated expression, and as we get to the parking lot, he opens the trunk to give me a sneak peek of Nicolo—or what's left of him.

  "You couldn't have made this cleaner?" I shake my head at him. The entirety of Nicolo's skull had been blown to pieces.

  "Well," he grimaces, "I got too into it," he shrugs.

  "When do you not get too into it?" I mutter under my breath, amused. "Ok, now what's the next step?"

  "Hmm," he strokes his chin pensively, "depends on what you want to do with it. We can burn him, chop him up and throw him at the bottom of the ocean, or even better chop him up and scatter him across the city. Like a treasure hunt," his face lights up.

  "And the evidence? Wouldn't that be courting danger?"

  "Isn't that the beauty of it?" he tilts his head back, smiling. "Why would anyone kill without the thrill of being caught? It's like a drug," he takes a deep breath, controlling his excitement.

  "Is that what you normally do?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

  Vlad might be volatile, but he's also smart enough to cover his tracks every time.

  "Sometimes," he shrugs, "when I want to play with the cops. I leave them a crumb here, one there. It's awfully fun to watch them take the bait and follow fake leads." He explains, a wide smile on his face as he reminisces some of his encounters with the FBI. "One time, I was even brought in as a witness, if you can believe it," he chuckles, "I had to put on the best act of my life as I tried to look distressed. I might have even shed a tear." He recounts, proud of himself.

  While he might find these events funny, I find them rather sad. Is that what he does because he has no friends to play with? It certainly looks like a lonely boy trying to get some attention any way he could—even if it was from the police.

  "Right," I reply drily, "let's do bottom of the ocean. I don't think we need any scrutiny right now."

  Especially with my brother in the hospital, the last thing we need is the po
lice knocking on our doors.

  "You're no fun," he complains, but he does get in the driver's seat, putting the car into gear and leaving the parking lot.

  "Ok, we need to drop by your place and cut off the recognizable parts," I add, having read up a little on the subject.

  Vlad might enjoy the thrill of being chased by the police, but I like the thrill of knowing that a dead body stays dead and unsearchable.

  "Hell girl, your knowledge astounds me." He praises, bringing my hand up to his lips for a kiss. "I might even let you do the honors."

  "Why, Vlad, that might be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me," I bat my lashes at him, playing his game.

  "Only for you." Me murmurs softly, and I get a tingling in my lower region, the thought of him taking me on top of the car's trunk while my uncle's dead body lies beneath us making me incredibly hot.

  We're soon back to the compound, the moon high up in the sky as Maxim takes out Nicolo from the trunk, bringing him in one of Vlad's science rooms and laying it on a table.

  "What first?" I ask as Vlad starts the drain, the blood all pooling under the table and into a system specifically built to get rid of bodily fluids.

  "Hands?" He pulls a pair of gloves, giving me one too.

  "Come." He takes me into his arms, his back to my front. His cock is wedged right between my ass cheeks as he wraps my fingers around a blade.

  His breath on my neck, he guides me as I push the sharp end of the knife into the dead flesh. His hand on top of mine, he supplements the strength needed for the blade to puncture the skin.

  My breath hitches when he lifts my hand, bringing it down with so much force against the bone, cutting through it, pieces shattering around us.

  "Yes," he whispers, "just like that," he rasps against my ear, and I instinctively push my ass into him.

  "Yes," I repeat after him, entranced by the way my uncle's body gives way to the pressure, more splintered bone flying through the air, the flesh breaking but little blood pouring out of the open cuts.

  "It turns you on, doesn't it?" Vlad murmurs, his open mouth trailing up my neck, "death, destruction, devastation... it makes you wet, doesn't it?"

  I whimper, unable to respond as my legs part of their own accord. Vlad is quick to tug his gloves off his hands, his bare fingers trailing the inside of my thigh. I'm almost bent over the dead body, my back arched as the tips of his fingers light the fire in my veins.

  "Cut," he commands, handing me the butcher knife, while he picks up another skinnier one.

  I comply as I push the blade into soft flesh, a gasp escaping me when I feel him part my ass cheeks, a foreign object sneaking between my folds.

  "So fucking wet," he groans, pushing the hilt of the knife against me. "Imagine this is my dick fucking you, pressing into you," his words are only making me wetter as the top of the knife probes at my entrance, easily sliding inside. It's almost the same size as two of his fingers, but the forbidden feeling of being fucked by a knife has me almost coming on the spot.

  "Vlad..." I moan at the sensation as the knife slowly moves in and out of me.

  "Next time it's something bigger, and bigger" he rasps, pushing it deeper inside of me, "until you're ready to take my big cock into your tight little body," he brushes my hair aside, peppering kisses over my exposed back.

  "Cut!" his voice booms into my ear as he continues to thrust into me, and I have to force myself to obey, bringing the blade over my uncle's body, the pleasure so intense I don't even know where I'm cutting anymore.

  I'm just swinging the blade around, slashing haphazardly as Vlad fucks me with his knife.

  "God," I moan when he increases the speed, and I feel a warm liquid coat the hilt of the knife as it enters me, lubricating the walls of pussy even more.

  "Come," he demands, one finger playing with my clit until he brings me over the edge, my voice ringing into the room as I tighten my hands over my own knife, hitting with as much force as I can, nabbing my uncle's chest as the blade lodges into his sternum.

  Sagging against him, he slowly removes the knife from my pussy, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking in the mix of my juices and blood.

  My eyes widen as I take in the blood dripping from the blade, but then I realize where it's coming from. Vlad's hand is wrapped around the sharp part of the knife, his skin broken and bleeding.

  "What..." I grab the knife out of his hand, turning his palm up so I can see the damage. "Why did you..." I trail off, noting his intense stare, the darkness of his pupils as they engulf his eyes.

  "I wanted to pour myself into you," he whispers, his palm sliding up my neck and smearing his blood on my skin.

  I'm enthralled by his presence, even though I can feel he's teetering on the precipice as his gaze narrows on the red on my body.

  Bringing his hand to my mouth, I suck on each finger, my eyes on his as I let my tongue lap at his open wound.

  "Hell girl, you're my fucking kryptonite," he says before he brings me roughly against him, our teeth clashing as his mouth opens over mine, kissing me with an unexpected ferocity. I can taste myself on his tongue, as well as the metallic taste of his blood. Knowing he pumped his blood in my pussy somehow makes me even hotter, and I proceed to show him just how much by worshipping his cock with my mouth.

  In the end, Nicolo gets thrown into a furnace, his body burned and turned to ash. Vlad's excuse, though, is that he wanted to see my savage side as I desecrated my own uncle's body.

  I'd be mad at him if it hadn't been the height of eroticism, once more confirming that there's nothing Vlad could do that would turn me away from him—not even him fucking me on top of a dead body. In fact, one might argue that's his allure.

  "I won't be able to come by tomorrow," he tells me as he drops me off at home, stopping the car across the street from my house, "I have a meeting and it might take the entire day," he sighs.

  "What meeting?" I ask, hearing about this for the first time.

  "I'm inviting the syndicate bosses from the East Coast for a small fete," he replies, not sounding in the least enthusiastic. "I want to see if they know anything about Miles." He explains why he thinks they might have some information, recounting how his brother had been a liaison with the other states and he thinks he might have met Miles or at least his partner through some of the other bosses.

  "And you really think they'll talk?"

  "No," he smiles ruefully, "but I aim to gently coax them into talking."

  "You're joking," I raise an eyebrow at him when he tells me about his grand plan of organizing an all-out debauchery full of naked women, drugs and alcohol.

  "I can't just kill them," he pouts, "I'd become public enemy number one. Not that I'm not already. But I'm trying to not become everyone's target," he sighs, as if it's the hardest thing he's ever done—not killing someone.

  "I'm with you on that account," I cross my hands over my chest, "until the naked women part."

  "Jealous?" he wiggles his eyebrows at me, a smile playing at his lips.

  "If you want your dick to remain where it is—attached to your body," I lean into him, my fingers brushing against the front of his pants as I grab him, "you better be deaf and blind to anything that goes there."

  "Damn it Sisi," he breathes harshly, maneuvering me on top of him, "how can I bear to leave you alone when you say something like that?" he nuzzles his face in my hair, "you know I love it when you threaten me."

  "You're weird," I joke.

  "And you're the only one for me. I thought we've established that," he looks me in the eye, his expression serious. "Now run along before I decide to cuff you to my side."

  "Tempting," I drawl, dragging my nails down his chest.

  "But not productive. At least for now," he gives me an intoxicating smile, "maybe later," he whispers against my lips as he gives me one last kiss.

  Reluctantly, I leave him as I make my way back to my room, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with me.

 
But as I go to bed, I can only dream about how sweet the future will be.

  "I'll see you later, Venezia," I give her a hug as I rummage through my bag, making sure I have everything with me. With how hectic things are around here, I have to catch a taxi to take me to the hospital.

  I'd talked with Adrian in the morning, and he'd assured me that Marcello is doing fine, having just woken up from his surgery. Hearing the wonderful news, I couldn't help myself as I'd promised to meet him at the hospital to visit my brother.

  Too bad there's still no news of Lina, and to some extent I am worried that her conflict with Marcello will extend to us, too. After all, she hadn't returned any of my calls yet.

  Trying to think of a way to get her to talk to me, I don't even notice when a van pulls over right in front of the gates of the house. My reaction is entirely too delayed as I turn around, feeling a sharp pain in my neck before I tumble to the ground. My eyes heavy, I have the vague impression that someone is carrying me towards the van.

  The sound of a moving car makes my ears prickle, and I'm jolted awake by a sudden stop.

  "Krasivaya." I hear a man murmur in my ear, his hands pawing around my rib cage. I start fidgeting, trying to shake him off, but I realize there's rope all around my upper body, holding me in place. My feet too, are tied around the ankles.

  "No, shto eta?" the same man asks, brushing my bangs aside to reveal my forehead.

  "Don't touch me!" I hiss, moving my head to the side.

  "Vasily," another man whistles, "the kitten has claws," he laughs derisively.

  I take a moment to look around, noting there are five men inside the van. Four of them are around forty or fifty years old while the one next to me seems to be the youngest at around thirty.

  "Kuznetsov doesn't have bad taste," one of the elders says in an accented voice, and it finally dawns on me why I'm here.

  Vlad.

  "I thought he was gay," the younger one laughs.

  "Maybe she's his beard."

  "Let's hope not, or the plan won't work," the elder says, turning his attention to me.

  "Tell me, little bird, are you his beard?"

  I narrow my eyes at him, not entirely sure of the question but not willing to show them any weakness.

 

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