Julian's Torment (Mafia Heirs 3)

A thousand possible answers race through my head, but finally I settle for the most polite one. “Not anymore, Adrianna. Now please, just go. I’m going to count you down. You have ten seconds.” “Ten seconds?” she hisses.

“Nine.”

“I’m naked, jackass.”

“Eight.”

Pursing her lips, she blows out the candle closest to her and adds, “Fuck you, Julian.”

“Seven… Six…”

She grabs the trench coat she must’ve come here in and wraps it around her body while giving me the death glare.

“Five… Four… Three…”

Rolling her eyes, Adrianna stomps out of my bedroom and a couple moments later, I hear the front door slamming as she dramatically lets herself out.

“Fucking finally,” I mutter, stripping down to my silky black boxers with a groan. Then I walk over to the bathroom and slip those off, too. I get in the huge walk-in shower and blast hot water all over my tired body.

My forehead meets the tile, and I groan. I’m fucking tired after the couple of days I’ve had, and I’m not looking forward to what tomorrow’s going to bring.

For one, Adrianna seems fucking determined as ever to be with me, even though I couldn’t be more clearly disinterested.

And then there’s Francesca…

I grit my teeth as I remember last night, holding her close to me while we slept. I told myself I only did it because the room was fucking freezing, but I know there’s more to it than that. I wanted to feel her next to me, to inhale her sweet scent again.

I curse under my breath as my fingers wrap around my now throbbing cock.

As much as I hate Francesca Esposito, my body reacts to her in its own way and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Something about the brunette wakes up my primal instincts, demanding I show her who’s boss. No matter how hard I try to remind myself Francesca and I are over, my dick doesn’t listen.

With a groan, I stroke myself. My cock is throbbing in seconds, eager for a release while I fill my head with thoughts of Francesca. I remember kissing her for the first time. I remember how vulnerable she felt in my arms and how she let me have everything without a moment’s hesitation. Me – the servant who she once dismissed so completely.

Shaking my head, I try to force myself to stop thinking about this shit that only upsets me. There’s no way for me to change the past, and I’ve already decided Francesca Esposito is not part of my future.

Or rather, her family decided that for both of us.

I hear my phone ringing outside the shower, but I don’t want to get out yet. My cock is now throbbing for the release I know I shouldn’t have. I’m eager to rub it while I think of Francesca, and my hand acts of its own accord, slowly jerking myself closer and closer to a forbidden release.

I know I’m getting close by the precum I keep swiping away with my thumb, but the force of my orgasm takes me by surprise. When I come, I come fucking hard, painting rope after rope of cum all over the shower tile. With a groan, I finish myself off, then wash the shameful proof of my thoughts off my body.

Once I’ve showered, I dry myself with a towel and reach for my phone to check who called me earlier. When I see Bruno’s name on the screen, goosebumps erupt over my skin.

Fuck. He’s not going to be pleased I missed his call.

While Bruno is a wonderful adoptive father most of the time, he can also be strict and cruel to a fault. I quickly dial his number, prepared to plead for his forgiveness.

“Missing calls again, I see.”

“I was in the shower,” I quickly mutter.

“Sure.”

“I really was. Everything okay at home?”

“Reasonably so,” Bruno replies. “You should give your brother Santino a call. He’s been trying to reach you.”

Guiltily, I remember the other missed calls from my brother I’ve been dodging. “Yeah, I saw. I’ll call him soon. Is something the matter?”

“No,” Bruno replies, too quickly for my liking. “Everything is fine. I’m calling about another matter altogether.”

“Oh?”

“I’m calling you about Francesca Esposito.”

Even though I’ve just showered, a nervous drop of sweat drips down my back. Fuck. This can’t be good. Bruno never talks about Francesca, not since everything went down.

“What about her?”

“You know she’s at the same school as you, I’m assuming? Have you run into one another yet?” “Yeah,” I mutter, figuring there’s no point in lying. “Briefly.”

Well… lying much.

“How is she?”

“I…” I’m surprised by Bruno’s interest and unsure of how to answer him. “She’s fine, I guess.

Considering.”

“She told you she’s there on a scholarship?”

“Yeah.”

“Does she know who paid for it?”

“What? I don’t know.”

“It was me.”

My breath catches in my throat. “Why would you do something like that?”

“You and Francesca have unfinished business.”