Mafia's Devil part 14

a/n: Luciano gave Karine his phone number, not Maksim’s.

LUCIANO

I shouldn’t have done that. I should have blocked the little pest so she can’t contact me anymore, not sent her a picture of my dick print. But here I am, staring at my phone and reliving our conversation because I quite frankly can’t remember the last phone call I had that involved my personal life.

Karine is a fucking bed bug— tiny, impossible to shake off, and a bloodsucker. I want to squash her, to prove her wrong in so many ways. I kissed her to prove I can take what I want any moment; I sent her that picture to prove my massive ego matches my dick, and I can’t imagine what she’ll make me do next.

I can’t stand her; at least I’m not supposed to. Why do I let her twist me like a damn pretzel if I’ve dealt with people more nefarious than her?

Everything is becoming harder because of her. With a scowl, I reach down for my sweatpants and cup my cock. That, too, is hard because of that woman.

I ignore the weight between my legs and get back to what I was doing before Karine Kuznetsov barged into my life and distracted me as usual. I have my limits with people, including myself. When I notice I’ve been uncontrollably glancing at my cellphone, checking for a notification from Karine’s number, I sent the thing flying into a wall.

I leave the phone in crumbles by the wall and scroll through my computer. I’m able to focus on the numbers better and get work done. At least I do for five minutes. When the phone rings from across the room, I jolt up and nearly topple the desk over with my weight.

I run to the device and pick it up.

Karine isn’t calling. It’s one of my men. I ought to pull out the gun in my cabinet and blow my brains out for betraying my cool. I don’t run for pussy. I sit idly by and let it come to me.

With a glare at the cracked screen, I draft a text message to my PA.

Get me a prostitute. A curvy, tall, blonde. 

Everything that’s the opposite of Karine.

He sends me pictures of potential candidates, but none stirs my excitement. Instead of replying, I pocket my phone and go outside for a jog. It starts raining, but I’m more afraid of my interest in Karine that I am in a little rain.

So I keep running.

KARINE

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you feeling alright?”

I look at my bedroom door. My father is standing there, a frown deepening the aged lines on his face.

“Hey. What do you mean?”

“You’ve been locked in here for two days. Is it the restaurant? You know my offer still stands, right?”

I smile thinly at him. He has been trying to rebuild my restaurant with his own money since the thing went up in flames. I love my father, but not his money. It wouldn’t feel right to rebuild the restaurant with the sweat of anyone but Luciano’s.

I need Luciano to suffer. That’s the only way to make this right.

“I know, dad. I’m okay. I’ve just been working on my laptop. Doing some research, you know?”

“Why don’t you work in the yard so you can get some sunlight?”

I nod. “Sure. Thanks for checking in.”

He hesitates by the door as if he has something else to say.

“Dad?”

“Your sister called.”

I stiffen. I haven’t heard from my sister in years. Not after…

“I don’t want to talk to her.” I close my laptop. “It’s best if I’m not here when she comes to visit you.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Dealing with mom is enough,” I sigh. “She called the other day, still wants me to join her cult.”

“Is she taking her meds?”

I shrug. “It’s hard to tell if she’s on meds or crack. The meds seem to make her nuttier sometimes.”

Dad shakes his head. He loved her once upon a time, and now all he feels is shame. I try to not be the same way. My mom’s lifestyle is unorthodox, but she’s a happy, harmless woman nowadays. We need more happy people on this planet.

“Get some sunlight. I’ll take care of your sister.” He closes the door and leaves.

I reach for my phone. Maybe I do need to get some sunlight. I think I’m dehydrated from how many times I’ve masturbated to Luciano’s dick print. Fuck. The dude is so hot he deserves to be on the front cover of a calendar— better yet, the front of me.

Instead of turning on my abused vibrator, I swing my legs off my bed and wobble outside to give my clit a break.

It’s about time I try to make contact with Luciano again. It has been two days since I last spoke to him.

Has he thought of me? I guess it’s time to find out.

I walk toward the edge of the yard, wanting to be far away from the house so I’m not overheard. Then, I call him. The ringing repeats until I’m sure he’s not going to pick up. With my heart dripping embarrassment and disappointment, I reach to end the call.

“What?”

The screen explodes with colors and shapes that create Luciano’s handsome face. His scowl is there— it always is, but it doesn’t make him look any older or unapproachable. I still want to hop on his lap like I did every time I fantasized about those grey, tight—

“Why are you calling now?”

“What, you didn’t miss me?” I tease, knowing that he didn’t. It’s too early for him to feel such a complex emotion for me.

He’s probably planning my death for the thousandth time.

I study his face. He’s wearing a suit, and he’s in another office, but this one is less homely. There’s a pink tint on his cheekbones that typically isn’t there, and his hair is messier than usual.

“Did you get into a fight recently?” I ask. That has to be the only explanation, because Luciano doesn’t blush.

He clears his throat. “No. I’m in the middle of something. Did you get the footage?”

I notice that his voice is raspier, too. What’s up with him? Is he on something?

“Yeah. Your lawyer sent it, but… are you okay? You don’t look too well.”

“Fine.” He coughs once, twice, and I find my answer. He’s sick. I didn’t even realize men like him could get sick. Illness seems too human, too below him.

“You’re sick. Are you running a fever?”

“I thought you were a chef, not a doctor.”

“And I thought you were a mafia boss, not a comedian. Are you taking medicine?”

He sighs. “I don’t have tim—”

“I don’t have time for that,” I taunt in a mocking, deep voice. “Geez, it takes a minute to pop medicine. Don’t be such a neanderthal.”

“What the hell do I take?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Seriously? You don’t know your meds? Aren’t you like thirty?”

“I know hardcore drugs and painkillers, not over-the-counter shit. I don’t use that because I never get sick.”

“Okay Hercules, well, turns out you’re human and mortal. How hot are you?”

“I attract plenty of pussy, so I assume I’m fairly attractive.”

“I meant how hot is your fever running?”

He shrugs. “This is a silly conversation. I will burn through the thing in a few hours.”

“So you’ll just suffer until then?”

“Have you ever been captured by the Chinese? This bitchy cold is nothing compared to the torture they put me through.”

“Hur-dur,” I roll my eyes. “Look at me, I’m so big and tough that I don’t know what ibuprofen is. Go home, Luciano. I’ll stop by with some meds.”

“Did you just invite yourself to my home?”

“Yup. See you there!”

a/n: This week, 2 updates of The General and 1 of Alpha Adrian are coming