Her presence momentarily blindsides me, infusing the air with the subtle scent that comes off her—something vanilla, sweet, and frustratingly addictive.
She’s hidden the body that belongs to us beneath layers of clothes.She’s not wearing the jewelry we gifted her either.Clearly, she has other ideas in mind, and I’m more curious about them than I have been about anything else in my life before.
My gaze slides over her, and my fucking breath catches.
I don’t acknowledge the shift that happens inside me.Yes, I have to clench my fists to stop myself from reaching out to her immediately, but she does something else to me.She makes breathing a little harder.
My fate is my bloodline.When it comes to anything else, I don’t believe in it, but she seemed to have entered the stone-cold hardness in me and soaked it in fucking sunlight and this all from one single photo of her shown to us by the Vergine Selettore, where her spectacular ember eyes radiant with defiance and pride, stared back at me.
Yet there isn’t anything sweet about her invasion into the deepest parts of me.She did so violently, suffocating me, spilling into me like an obsession I will never be able to get enough of.
My body tenses up more, as if I’m facing my greatest foe yet, and if I take my eyes off her, I’ll lose, and she’ll decimate me.Yet looking at her weakens me.
For that reason, I immediately render her an enemy, and as with all our enemies, we keep them close so we can control the narrative and easily strike them down when needed.She can’t be allowed to dwell freely in the world, not when she has this much of a poisonous, devastating effect on our minds and bodies.
Fuck.
I dismiss those unnecessary thoughts from my mind and glance at the men standing on either side of me: Luca Armano and Vincenzo Rosso.Men I’ve known all my life, grew up with, went to school with, and trained to be silent killers.Now, we run one of the most prestigious, oldest, and most dangerous mafia units in the world.Respected and feared at the top.Revered and ruthless at the bottom.
When it comes down to it, I trust no one but these men.Our bond is stronger than if we shared blood.But in a way, we do.When we took our oaths to be the masters of the Falco Family, we sealed our fates in a ceremony with our blood.
Luca is silent.An observer.A man who can torture you for days on end but is gentle enough to nurse a tiny fucking bird back to health.
Vince, on the other hand, is always ready with a smile and full charm, all while he slits your throat and winks at the prettiest woman in the vicinity.
Me?I’m just cold-hearted.As the oldest of the three of us by nothing more than a few months, I’ve taken on the responsibility of ensuring we adhere to the intricacies of our bloodline, the age-old traditions that make us who we are.I won’t be swayed outside of what our legacy dictates.Luca and Vince are happy to follow my lead.
As laid down in the ancient FalchiLa Regola, an heir must be born to the heads of the Falchi by the time they reach the age of thirty.She must be bred here at the cabin,Deflorare—directly translated to mean deflower.Her blood must anoint our cocks before thele fiamme—the flames—so the gold falcon above the fireplace will absorb her innocence through its mouth and warm her body for her masters, so she may bear our heir.
She doesn’t have to be of noble birth, just a virgin.And as with all our predecessors, we consulted with the Vergine Selettore, who holds the records to the virgin registry for men of our caliber.
She will only ever be the property of the Falchi now, cataloged as one of the many treasures in our coffers, already filled with art, gemstones, jewels, deeds, luxury estates, and rare collectibles.A valuable asset, that is all she is.
In our world, it’s not about greed.Wealth equals control.Possessions equal power.She’ll be branded as the property of the Falchi, untouchable by all other men for the rest of her life and beyond.
Does she understand she signed her soul over to us?
That our mouths would suck on her, our teeth would leave our mark on her?Our hands would hold her body in place while we drive our cocks deeply into her sweet, soft cunt.She’ll cry out our names as she struggles to take the thick width and substantial length of our shafts into the tightness of her pussy, and then she’ll thank us for choosing her.
We’ve claimed every single part of her: every strand of her dark, luscious hair, every inch of her body.No other man will dare to look at her again.She’s ours.
I dismiss the hold the stunning beauty before me has on me.I ignore the way my heart beats differently.She’s nothing but a rare possession, I remind myself.The only place she belongs is in our bed, her body spread for us whenever we please.We’ll eat from her, drink from her, and fill her up with our cum, night after night.She’ll bear our children and want for nothing.
But if something happens to her beyond us, we’ll feel nothing.Love, or any other such affections, has nothing to do with it.As heads of the Falchi Family, we’ve been brainwashed from any emotion that would expose us, make us vulnerable.
We’ve been conditioned to not feel any kind of romantic love, a sentiment that suits my cold heart.The only thing that matters to me is my allegiance to the Falchi.Nothing else.
But it doesn’t explain why I’m holding my fucking breath, waiting for her to part her lips so I can hear her voice.
Doesn’t explain why I can’t stop fucking looking at her.
Luca better not be fucking right about her.No, he’s not right, I tell myself.
My motto is always to keep your enemy closer.
***Chapter Seven
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