Mafia King (Mafia Royals 3.5)
“First off…” He stood. “We already told you to cut the shit and tell the FBI no. They’ll understand, they’re used to our…”—he shrugged—“methods.” He sighed. “And, second, she needs someone outside the immediate family. Someone who isn’t a dad or a cousin or an uncle who’s breathing down her neck.”
I hated that he had a point. Every time he trained an associate on her, she pushed a little bit harder.
And I lost a bit more of my free time.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “How long?”
“Two more weeks.”
I perked right up. “That’s it?” And then my death sentence was done?
His grin was cruel. “That’s it.”
I nodded. “Well, two weeks is…it’s almost a kindness. Thank you. I’ll just be seeing myself out now and—”
“In Mexico.”
I froze, a chill ran down my spine. “Mexico?” Where everything was legal?
“Family vacation. Aka Junior and Serena are eloping,” he added as a massive hand came down on my shoulder. “You’re Family. We need a vacation, her cousins are eloping, she needs to be reined in, so…of course, you’ll come and help out.”
I’d never been more tempted to run in the opposite direction of another human, and I’d trained at Quantico. “For two weeks.” I just had to repeat it.
“Tomorrow, ten a.m. The jet won’t wait for you, and if you miss it, neither will my bullet…clear?”
I gulped, clenching my fists a dozen times before nodding my head once and gritting out, “As glass.”
“Great! See you in the morning!” A cheerful shove toward the door, and then I was walking out of his house.
The house I’d been living in for months—nearly a year.
The house that offered a double agent protection.
The house that the devil, too, resided in.
And just in time, her jet-black Lambo roared into the circular driveway.
Oh, good.
Let’s just hope she was clothed and sober.
She really was the worst.
The car jerked to a stop, turned off, and then there she was, every small, curvy inch of her as she hopped out on her red stiletto heels and turned toward me, a smile building on her lips as she tugged off her black sunglasses and sauntered toward me smelling like seduction and addiction.
Yay.
Her red lips parted.
I needed to look away.
There was too much temptation and sin in that small part.
And I knew if I even once gave in to the thoughts in my head…
She’d eat me alive.
And I’d fucking let her.
God, I hated her.
For her power.
Her control.
For being the smartest woman in the room and knowing it.
Really, the list was long, exhaustive, and depressing to a spy like me.
“You still alive?” she asked.
I glared. “You still a virgin?”
“Aww, you feeling horny, old man?”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m not old.”
“And I’m not a virgin.”
I smirked. “I’ll just add that to the long list of things to tell your dad after the two weeks are over, then.”
“Two weeks? What do you mean, two weeks? You’re done. You were done days ago.”
My turn to offer a smug grin as I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “We’re going on vacation. And I was just blessed with the job of being your shadow. Happy early birthday.”
She gasped, stumbling backward. “He wouldn’t.”
“He would. He did. He’s mafia, what did you expect? A normal birthday party with a piñata while your cousins got married on the beach?”
“Okay, first off, that’s not normal for a grown-ass woman. Second, he said it was a gift, the vacation. For my birthday. Third, it was only supposed to be my cousins and me, my favorite cousins—you aren’t one of them! And I may have completely forgotten about the elopement.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not your cousin, Tiny!”
Her nostrils flared. “Believe me, I know. At least my cousins know how to shoot, and fight, and—”
I grabbed her by the arm and flipped her back against her car, causing her sunglasses to fall to the ground as her body arched up to meet me. “I’m the fucking government. I’m the one who arrests you for doing things…shall we say, improper? I’m your new judge, jury, and executioner. If you so much as break any laws, mafia or mine, I will report it. I may not be blood, but I know our rules and I serve the Family, not you. NEVER. You. Do you feel me?”
Her breath hitched, and then she bucked her hips against mine and whispered, “Oh…was that it, then? I. Felt. Nothing.”
I jerked back, only to have her hand grab at my dick. “Ah, there it is... Pity, for a man so large, you seem so very… Small.”
I shoved her hand away and grabbed at her tits. “Same, Tiny. Same.”
Her eyes widened in rage, but I was already walking in the other direction despite her cussing and yelling.
Two weeks in hell.
Two weeks with Satan’s mistress.
Two weeks left, and my fate with the mafia would be decided.