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“I hope you remember this all day.” I definitely would.After a quick breakfast, I left for a day in the Sphere. Matteo and I had our drug sale numbers to go over and to finally discuss our father’s end.

We settled across from each other in the office.

“So you finally want to give the sadistic asshole what he deserves?”

“He’s barely doing what needs to be done so the Famiglia stays at the top.”

Matteo grinned. “As if that’s why you want to kill him. You don’t like how he treated your wife.”

“I don’t like how he treats a lot of people.”

Matteo’s expression made it clear that he wanted me to cut the bullshit.

I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “He ruins everything. He thrives on misery. I just want him gone. You with me?”

“Do you really have to ask? I’ve wanted to kill him for as long as I can remember.”

I nodded, then leaned back. “We have to be careful. We can’t risk anything being traced back to us.”

Matteo considered that. “Father is paranoid. The only time he isn’t heavily guarded and doesn’t have his bodyguards sitting right beside him is when he meets with his mistress.”

“We can’t kill him ourselves.”

Matteo’s mouth tightened. “I really want to be the one to do it, but I get your point.”

“We’ll figure something out. Father’s got a long row of enemies. There has to be a way to get one of them to kill him.”CHAPTER 17Matteo and I were checking our sales numbers for cocaine and synthetic drugs when my phone beeped.

It was a message from Romero’s cell.

A wants to hit a club. Permission?

“I hope no more bad news,” Matteo muttered as I typed “No” and sent it off.

“Aria and Gianna want to go dancing.”

“I assume you said no.”

“If Aria wants to hit a club, she’ll have to do it with me.”

We returned to business. Going through the sales figures sorted by cities in our territory always took forever, but I wanted to know what was going on in our territory.

Another hour passed before a knock made me look up from the laptop. “Come in,” I said.

Our barkeeper, Tony, poked his head in. I frowned. Usually he stayed behind the bar. This was close to peak time, so I doubted the bar could do without him.

“No drinks for us?” Matteo said with a grin.

Tony smiled, but I could tell that he was nervous. I narrowed my eyes. That meant I wouldn’t like what he had to say.

“Romero sent me,” he said carefully. “Your wife and her sister are here, dancing.”

I shoved the laptop to the side and got up, as did Matteo. Fury shot through me. I had given Romero a clear order. Of course I doubted he’d gone against it without good reason, and I had a feeling Aria and her sister had found a way to force him here. I motioned for him to leave, and he did quickly. “Damn it,” I growled, then staggered out of the office. Matteo was close behind me. “Seems like Aria isn’t as well trained as you thought.”

I shot him a glare. “That’s Gianna’s doing, no doubt. That girl’s a trouble maker.”

We entered the dance floor and it didn’t take long for me to spot Aria. It was impossible to miss her. Her long blond hair glowed under the lights, and a gathering of men danced around her and Gianna, admiring them.

Fuck. I’d never seen Aria dressed like this. I walked closer, taking in every inch of her tight leather pants, the way they accentuated her perfect butt. She swayed her hips to the rhythm, rotating and twisting, making me wonder how it would be once she rode me. I sent death glares toward the fuckers who’d dared to dance near my wife, and they backed off. One fucker hadn’t noticed me yet, too focused on Aria and actually motioning for her to dance with him. I met his gaze with the full force of my fury, and he looked away and turned. Good for him.

I stopped right behind Aria. She swung her hips to the rhythm, then arched her back, presenting that perfect, peach-shaped ass. I grabbed her hips, feeling her heat. Aria tensed then relaxed. She surprised me by jutting her ass against me. With her heels, her cheek pressed enticingly against my cock. I jerked her against me, then bent down to her ear. “Who are you dancing for?” I asked, my voice shaking with possessiveness.

Aria leaned back, her blue eyes meeting mine. “You. Only you.”

Only me. Always. “What are you doing here?”

“Dancing.”

“I told Romero ‘no.’”

“I’m not your possession, Luca. Don’t treat me like one.”

Aria didn’t understand how far I’d go to make sure she was only mine, to guarantee her safety. “You are mine, Aria, and I protect what’s mine.”

“I don’t mind being protected, but I do mind being imprisoned,” Aria shouted as she turned to face me, allowing me a glance down her see-through shirt to a glittery bra beneath that accentuated her breasts. Another wave of possessiveness hit me. “Dance with me,” she pleaded with a soft smile.

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