Arthur
Giorgia Russo stalked to her liquor cabinet, drawing out an expensive bourbon. She bent to pour two glasses of the honey-colored liquid, her tight, naked ass on display. With red tresses hanging down her back, everything about her was still firm and intact even though she was well into her forties. I supposed she had her husband’s wealth to thank for that. She was the wife of Charles Russo, an associate of sorts. An associate I loathed because, despite his self-professed allegiance, I knew he knew more about Castello than he let on.
That’s why I was there despite the disapproval of my men, in her bedroom instead of back at headquarters. I did what I wanted when I wanted, and I had my reasons. Russo was keeping something from me, and I would use his wife if I had to, to get it out of him.
I wanted her here, in his home, so he understood that I meant business. That I didn’t care about the code, thou shalt not fuck another man’s wife. The fact that I could enter his home on a whim and fuck his wife in his bed brought me an immense sense of satisfaction. I felt nothing for this woman but unbridled lust; she was always a good lay, obeying my every command. But the thrill of fucking her was wearing thin. It was about time Russo knew what his pretty wife was doing when he wasn’t home. I’d made sure of that.
She turned to me, casting me a sultry gaze, her emerald eyes raking over me as she made her way to the bed I was lying on, her white Egyptian cotton sheets wrapped around me.
“I was surprised to see you, especially here,” she said as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip and bit down hard. My cock twitched in response even though I’d just fucked her. She handed me a drink and lay beside me, leaning on her elbows.
I first saw Giorgia in my home at a benefit auction I’d thrown. She’d undressed me with her eyes while on Russos arms, and I knew then that she was the answer to the problem her husband was. There are commandments in our line of business, one of which is that we should not so much as look at another man’s wife, but that didn’t stop me from fucking her in a guestroom a couple of hours later while her husband continued to drink downstairs.
I looked at her pretty face, and I was so tempted to take a knife to her throat right then. Leave her bleeding for him to find. To let her bleed for her husband's sins. Charles Russo and his brother Edward ran an architectural enterprise for me, but it seemed they’d also been working with William Chapman, one of the men who ran a mining operation that was going to try and blow the whistle on me for some interesting, underhanded activities. An amateur move, but they were going to try to hold it over my head, bribe me into paying them an exorbitant sum of money to keep them quiet. How they thought they would achieve something like that was beyond me.
Obviously those two assholes were not known for their brains.
This visit with Giorgia was all part of my strategy. I wanted Russos emotions to get the better of him, make him careless.
It was well known how much Russo adored his wife. He had his whores everywhere, but Giorgia was his queen, and he would do anything for her.
Just as I smacked her ass hard, the door swung open, and in the doorway stood a raven-haired angel, her eyes wild. The girl's lips parted, and she let out a breath, her hands on her chest. Porcelain white skin and emerald eyes held my gaze. Her expression was one of horror and disdain as she took in the scene in front of her.
Giorgia tried to move off the bed much to my annoyance, but I gripped her ass. She knew better. I held the girl’s gaze then she looked away, her jaw ticking as she glared between the two of us, disgust evident on her face. She walked out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
“My daughter,” Giorgia said as she pulled her robe around her, her eyes downcast. “I didn’t expect her to be home. If I had-”
“The little one has grown, hasn’t she?” I said, walking over to the bourbon to pour another glass.
“She has, and she has a pretty strong head on those shoulders.” She looked toward the door before she disappeared into the bathroom. I supposed that had been quite a compromising position to be found in. I pulled on my pants, making my way out of the room still shirtless.
I laughed as I made my way down the corridor. So, there were more pawns in the game. This was getting more and more interesting.
The girl stood on a balcony, just off the landing, which overlooked their lush, well-lit garden, her head dipped low. I would have missed her if the light hadn’t illuminated her. I’d left Giorgia’s room with every intention of finding her, and now, there she was a few feet away from me. She spun around, her eyes widening when she saw me. She frowned, a thin line creasing her features. I entered the space, and she stepped away an inch, her back touching the railing.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my eyes drinking in her curves. Lace peeped through the thin white shirt she wore, and her jeans hugged her thighs gloriously. She was young, early twenties if I guessed right. Just the way I liked them. Maybe this was another way to get Russo to speed up and make his move.
“Gaia.” The name sounded almost musical on her lips. Close up, she was even more glorious. A perfect little plaything she’d be. I wouldn’t think twice about fucking her.
“You missed the whole show, Gaia?”
She glared at me, her lips trembling. “I doubt there was much of a crescendo,” she spat. “You think you’re the only asshole she’s brought here? Sorry to disappoint you, but I am more than aware my mother is a whore.”
She’s a wild one. I liked that. It just made breaking them so much more enjoyable. The stronger they were, the harder they fell.
“You’re a spirited one, aren’t you, little bird?”
“And you’re a fucking foul bastard.” She hissed.
I grip her chin in my hand, and her emerald eyes widened, her anger evident. “Careful now, Bella.” Oh, and she was a pretty one.
She pushed my hand away. “Do not touch me. You think I’m afraid of monsters like you? I grew up with them.” She seethed.
“Arthur,” came Giorgia’s startled tone as she appeared behind me. She looked between Gaia and me. I wondered if this little beauty understood who she was dealing with, and just how achingly beautiful she was when she was angry. A tiny spitfire. How I’d like to have her on her knees, here and now. Those lush pink lips, slightly parted, those cheekbones flushed, those eyes pleading up at me.
Gaia pushed past me, and the scent of vanilla assaulted my senses.
And it was then I decided, that I would have her.
I would bend her to my will.
I’d enjoy playing with her fire.
I looked back at Giorgia whose face was ashen. Something told me that there was more to this story than what met the eye, and I’d find out soon enough.
