Possessed by the Killer (Dark Possessive Mafia)

It left me craving her. As soon as I went back to my room and got changed, all I wanted to do was go back into that bed and smell her and taste her and fuck her again.

But I had calls to make, family to console, soldiers to reassure. I had to find a replacement for Lorenzo sooner rather than later, and make sure that any of his kin were taken care of. The Valentino family made sure nobody got left behind.

It took a lot out of me. Anger rolled through me in waves, anger mixed with sorrow. I hated losing anyone, especially a Capo. My Capos were my hands and my fingers, the men that ran the streets for me, that followed orders and made sure the family ran smoothly. If I was the heart and the brains, they were the blood and the muscle.

Losing a Capo was a very big deal. For all the years my father ran the family, he’d lost so few men, only a handful of Capos. I’d been in charge for weeks, and already one was dead on my watch. It ate at me, and the need for revenge was like a disease.

Around nine, I went back upstairs. The calls were over, and now it was only a matter of picking a replacement and giving the soldiers what they wanted.

Blood and money. It was always blood and money.

Mags looked at me from beneath the sheets. She had them pulled up to her chin, and she stretched like a cat with an uncertain smile on her lips. I wasn’t sure how she wanted to play this—if we were going to talk about what happened the night before, or if she was going to pretend like it hadn’t happened.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning.” She shifted a little and sat up. “What time is it?”

“Past nine,” I said. “I figured you’d need to sleep in since you had such a workout last night.”

She blushed. “Oh, right. Thank you.”

I smiled and stepped into the room. She wanted to ignore it then. Well, I wouldn’t let her. “I know you’re probably wondering when I’m going to fuck you again, but please, I think I need a little space.”

Her mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

I held up my hands. “I like you, Mags. You’re beautiful, you really are, and I want to taste your delicious, dripping little cunt and do all the nasty things you ever dreamed of, but please. You’re smothering me.”

“You’re such a dick,” she said, throwing a pillow.

I knocked it away with a laugh. “I’m only speaking my truth.”

“Seriously. Such a dick.” Another pillow spun at my head. I ducked and it hit the wall. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” I said, drifting closer. “You’re running out of pillows.”

She glared and grabbed the last two. “Come closer. Seriously. Come give me a kiss.”

“Only if you take off your panties first.”

She threw both pillows and I let them hit me with a laugh. She sighed and fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Don’t make me regret last night,” she said.

“I don’t think you will.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “But you’re not staying inside all day today and sulking.”

“Why not?” she asked, glancing at me.

Fuck, she was beautiful. Even with messy hair and bad breath, she was gorgeous.

“Because you lie around and feel sorry for yourself too much,” I said. “Come out and enjoy the world.”

“Don’t be a dick,” she said. “I lie around and feel sorry for myself because I’m stuck with you.”

I laughed and stood up. “Fair enough, but you’re still coming out with me.”

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“I need to pick a replacement for Lorenzo,” I said. “I’ve got someone in mind. I want you to come with me while I tell him.”

She frowned and tapped at her tooth with her fingertip. “Are you sure?” she said, then ran a hand through her hair. “That sounds like mafia business.”

“You’re my wife,” I said. “It’s your business now.”

She opened her mouth then shut it again. I didn’t want to leave her home alone today, not when she’d spend all afternoon thinking about the sex and wondering if she made some horrible mistake. I wanted to bring her into my life more, if she’d let me.

“All right, fine,” she said. “Even if I’m a fake wife.”

“Political marriages can sometimes turn to real, lasting love,” I said.

She snorted. “Name one.”

“I can’t, but I’ll Google it.”

“Go away,” she said. “I’ve got to get dressed.”

“And I can’t watch?”

“No, you can’t.” She looked around. “If I had more pillows—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I said, and walked to the door. I picked one of the pillows up and threw it back at her. She caught it and laughed, then put it back under her head. “I want to leave in twenty. So hurry your ass up.”