1
FIERO
“Fuck. Me. Who isshe?” I ask Rico, hoping my tongue isn’t hanging out of my mouth like a dog in heat as I stare at the woman standing at the hotel bar. I’ve met my fair share of beautiful women in my forty-three years on this planet. Fucked my fair share too.
But this woman.
This woman is in a league of her own.
Glossy jet-black hair falls in sleek sheets over her shoulders and down her exposed back, brushing her narrow waist and stopping just short of a peach of an ass. Shapely hips lead to long legs encased in a pair of skyscraper heels. One tan leg peeks out from the risqué slit in the left side of her body-hugging red silk dress, and I’m frothing at the mouth. My dick jerks behind the zipper of my dress pants as I imagine that leg wrapped around my neck while I thrust deep inside her.
She grabs her glass of champagne and turns around to face the room, offering me a full-frontal view that almost takes my legs out from under me. All the air is knocked out of my lungs as I stare at her like I’ve never encountered a woman before.
Is she even mortal?No female could possibly be this stunning. Thoughstunning doesn’t even come close to describing the vision in red silk across the room. Words don’t exist in any language to describe her or the potent need flowing through my veins, demanding I charge over there, throw her over my shoulder, and run away with her.
Mine.
My chest heaves as my greedy gaze rakes her from head to foot, lingering over her sumptuous curves and juicy rack. Her dress is unadorned, and on anyone else it might look plain, but it’s complete perfection on her, clinging possessively to her womanly curves and winding around her neck. The urge to grab hold of it and rip it from her body is riding me hard. I want to storm over there, strip her bare, and bury myself so deep inside her she’ll never get me out.
Mine.
My thoughts shock me because I don’t do this.
I don’t get attached.
I certainly don’t get instantly infatuated the second I lock eyes on a gorgeous woman.
But this woman is an enchantress, and she put a spell on me the moment I spotted her alone at the bar.
I’m aware I’m staring at her in a none too subtle fashion and I’m virtually panting, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck.
Mine.
That voice whispers in my ear again, and I couldn’t agree more. This glorious creature can only have been made for me, and I’m taking what’s clearly mine.
Right fucking now.
Before I move a muscle in her direction, a hand lands on my elbow and a loud throat clearing attempts to claim my attention. “Trouble,” Rico says, answering my question. His lips pull tight as he studies the woman who has caught my eye with a puzzled expression.
I wasn’t expecting an actual answer. Myconsigliereis as much of a fish out of water here tonight as I am. Although I’ve been traveling between Miami and New York weekly for three months now, I’m here to work, not party, and I spend most of my time with Don Vitto D’Onofrio and hissoldati. My job is to mentor the newly crowned Florida don and to spy on him and his men to see if they are loyal to our cause or traitors.
The only females I’ve crossed paths with are his staff and his vacuous wife Diana. This woman is not someone I’ve met before. I’d never have forgotten a face like that. It’s as if she’s been carefully carved from the most precious porcelain and every line, dip and curve is testament to master craftsmanship. Exquisite high cheekbones reside underneath flawless olive skin. Piercing green eyes, framed by thick black lashes, roam the room in pursuit of something. Her plump red lips part infinitesimally, and my eyes are glued to her stunning face as I watch the carefully constructed façade slip for a split second.
“I know that look, and you can’t afford that here, Fiero,” myconsiglierewarns, pulling me back into the conversation. “The gala is swarming with made men, and I’m betting she belongs to one. No woman who looks like her could possibly be single.”
His words are like a knife straight through my heart, but I won’t be deterred. “I don’t care.” I smooth a hand down the front of my tuxedo jacket, preparing to go to her when an unfortunately familiar face lands in front of her. “No fucking way,” I hiss, shooting daggers at D’Onofrio’s number two as he slides his arm around the beauty in red.
“She’s wearing a ring. I’m guessing she’s Dominic’s wife,” Rico muses, scrubbing a hand along his clean-shaven jaw. “Valentina. I think that’s her name.”
Valentina.
I look over at her with greater appreciation. It’s a beautiful name for an even more beautiful woman. It truly suits her, and I love how it rolls fluidly off my tongue. “He’s never mentioned her to me.”
It’s not that surprising. There is little love lost between Dominic Ferraro and me. D’Onofrio’s underboss is an imbecile and a lazy one at that. He’s also hiding secrets. Secrets that could get him killed. I haven’t disclosed my recent discovery to Vitto as I’m still unsure he’s trustworthy. Although I haven’t found evidence confirming foul play or linking him to the deceased Vegas don in ways other than a shared love of partying, there is a reason Cruz DiPietro was flying to Florida weekly in the months leading up to his disappearance, and I’m determined to find out what he was up to.
I haven’t divulged my discovery to The Commission either. The Commission is the centralized governing body for all Italian Americanmafiosoin the US, and it was re-established by Bennett Mazzone sixteen years ago to restore order toLa Cosa Nostraacross all states. We enjoyed relative peace and prosperity until recently when a few bad eggs attempted a takeover. It ended badly for Cruz and his wife, and we took the rest of the players out before they could destroy everything we’ve built. Now we’re in damage-control mode. Florida and Vegas are far from settled, and we’re attempting to restore order. Hence why I’m spending so much time here.
My fellow board members receive an update at our weekly meetings. I appraise them of developments in Florida and the newly promoted Don Alessandro Salerno ensures they’re informed of the situation on the ground in Vegas.
