Page 17 of His To Claim


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I curse myself for not having the security cameras enabled, but I didn’t see the need. This was supposed to be a detox mission, not a goddamn prisoner situation.

We search the room.

It’s small and doesn’t take long.

Under the bed, in all the drawers, pulling everything out, cutting open the pillows, and sending fluff flying everywhere.

In the shower – inside the shower head, behind the panel of the mechanism – but there’s nothing.

No message.

“Get the security footage from the bar upstairs.”

“Already have, boss.”

“Good,” I say, nodding. “It’s being combed?”

“As we speak.”

“You’re a good man, Vinnie,” I tell him. “Give me word the second we spot anything suspicious. We should see him going into the backroom, but … do we know when this happened?”

Vinnie grimaces tightly, telling me he’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Piero was on shift from two o’clock last night until two o’clock this afternoon.”

“Meaning that the place was packed when this bastard slipped into the back,” I sigh.

The bar is a popular one, a trendy hipster spot, its clientele having no idea who owns it or what they’re dancing on top of. Having the cells situated in such a loud, busy, upscale location drastically reduces the chances of any rival Family or organization trying to stage an escape.

At least, that’s what it’s supposed to do.

In this instance, it might’ve helped them.

But I’m normally counting on sloppy criminals, not spy-like motherfuckers.

“Comb the tape,” I sigh. “I’m going to interrogate the men who went with him on the Capullo job. Maybe they know something.”

“We talking a conversation or a darkroom situation?”

The darkroom is where we take the real evil bastards, the rapists, and the child molesters when we need them to give up their equally-evil cohorts.

I’m not sure I’m ready to take my own men there.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I say. “But if it does, we’ll do what we have to do. A man is dead, a good man who served the Family well. They shouldn’t have anything to hide.”

I walk down the corridor, not relishing the task ahead of me. First I’ll need to personally inform Piero’s mother about his death and make arrangements for her financial support over the coming months and years and decades—as long as she needs it.

And then I’ll need to gather up the men and interrogate them one by one, which will probably take me late into the night, depending on how they answer.

Which all gets in the way of what I was planning on doing today.

I was going to take Aida and drag her into the bedroom, and then push her onto the bed and strip her naked and fuck her, fuck her hard and without mercy.

I was going to pummel her virgin pussy until it was raw and knew what was expected of it.

After a short break – minutes at the most – I’d take her again, maybe even giving her a treat of slowing down that time, letting her feel every inch as I plunge inside of her.

But a man in my position doesn’t get to give in to his desires, not when so much shit has hit the fan.

I sigh and clench my fists, wishing I could find the bastard who did this and crush his throat.

And not just because he freed Elmo and killed one of my men.

But because he interrupted my chance to claim my virgin princess.

When I think about the way she admitted to having all those secret desires over breakfast, my manhood swells and pumps full of hotness, despite the circumstances, despite the war.

Even now, when I should be entirely focused on my business, she plays on my mind.

I need to take her.

Maybe then the never ending fantasizing will stop.

Yeah right, a voice comments grimly within. Keep telling yourself that. You’ll never stop being attracted to her, you’ll never stop thinking about her. You could fuck her ten times in one night and still get rock hard at the sight of that big bouncy ass begging for more.

I clench my fists hard, digging my fingers into my palms, feeling the skin on my knuckles pull taut.

Business first, and then …

And then I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with her.

Chapter Nine

Aida

I roll over and let out a huffing breath, glancing at the bedside clock, subtly backlit with a soft glowing light. It’s three in the morning, and still, I can’t sleep, which is weird considering last night – after the kidnapping – the silk sheets were able to pull me into blessed oblivion.

I spent the day with Jackal, walking Arturo’s large grounds, going right to the end and around his private pond, and watching as Jackal bound around, grinning happily with his tongue hanging out.

After that, I came back to the ensuite and made use of the sauna and the large hot tub, sitting in there and trying to let the bubbles and the warmth soothe my anxious thoughts.

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