He’s still worried about that?
Before I can answer my unvoiced question, Dimitri asks one of his own, “Has that left your head yet, or do I need to be more persuasive?”
I’m torn on how to answer. I want to say no, hoping I’ll discover exactly how alpha he is, but I also want to come. It’s blistering inside me, burning as effectively as the burn my lips endured while sucking him off.
With my libido overriding all my senses, I take the coward’s route. “It’s left my head—”
My pathetic show of womanhood is cut off by a gravelly, accented voice. Although it’s oddly similar to the one towering over me with the command of a caveman, it sends a chill scattering through me. It isn’t a good shudder. I’ve only heard this voice once before. It was when he instructed me to turn around so he could see my eyes while he killed me.
Hell has been left unoccupied again. Except this time, the imp isn’t walking the corridors of a hospital seeking new recruits, he’s visiting his son.
“Eyes to the floor.” When my eyes instinctively lift to Dimitri, panicked by the fury in his gruff tone, his jaw tightens. “Eyes to the fucking floor!”
Their fast drop fills my hazy head with dizziness, but the cloud isn’t thick enough to miss me watching Dimitri raise his hand in the air in threat. He’s seconds from striking me, and I’m at a complete loss as to why.
With my submissiveness on display for all to see, Dimitri grunts something about how frustrating it is for him to put the help in their place before he demands me to clean up the mess I made.
Confident I won’t defy him for the second time, he yanks up his trousers huddled around his ankles, then hightails it in the direction his father’s voice came from.
Eleven
Dimitri
“If that’s your idea of a punishment, I’m disappointed. If the help isn’t smelling of blood by the time you’ve showed her the ropes, you let her off easy.” My father jerks his chin to the kitchen I’m in the process of forcefully removing him from. “I can smell her cunt from here.” The frantic pump of his nostrils makes me want to gut him where he stands. “I guess I can understand your change-up. Even I may be tempted to offer leniency for a smell that sweet.”
When he pivots back around, I grip his arm with enough force, I’m certain he’ll be wearing my marks as long as Roxanne’s ass. “She isn’t close to repaying her debt, and I’m not willing to share her until she has.” When my father’s brows bow, I realize my error. By admitting I want her, his interest in Roxanne tripled in an instant. “She cooks like Ma. Even with her cunt being greedy for a pounding, I’m considering sending her to Petrettis to show them how it’s done before shipping her to her buyer.”
For a man his age, my father should have more wrinkles on his face than he does when he cocks his brow. “Good cooking skills are to blame for your pants being wrapped around your ankles?”
It takes everything I have not to retaliate to the mirth in his tone. “She fucked up. I wanted my dick sucked. I took advantage of the situation. Sue me.”
He laughs in a way that makes my skin crawl, though it has nothing on my reaction when he says, “What can I say? You take after me with more than looks.”
The Petretti genes are strong, but this is the last fucking thing I want to hear.
After guiding him into my downstairs office, I gesture to him to take a seat in the chair opposite my desk. Forever willing to test the boundaries, he opts to sit in my chair, instead. He thinks he’s smart. In reality, he’s an idiot. I use this office for nothing but fucking, purely because of him. He can snoop all he likes down here because he’ll never find a single shred of evidence about either my operation or my daughter.
As he scans the fake business documents on my desk, he slouches low into my chair. He doesn’t even try to hide his snooping. To him, this is his realm. I merely live in it.
Confident the articles aren’t of interest to him, he locks his eyes with mine. “I have some very dissatisfied customers.” I assume he’s referencing Theresa Veneto’s numerous requests to meet with me. Although she was scarce with details when Rocco organized our meeting for later today, she did hint that it was concerning an unfavorable purchase she made from the Petretti entity but am proven wrong when he nudges his head to the hall we just walked. “She created quite the kerfuffle, only for her sale to be canceled because her seller couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
“As far as the buyers are concerned, her sale was umbrellaed under your entity of our family. That means I was entitled to bid as a buyer.” With my tone much too possessive for my liking, I try another tactic. “You said it yourself. Her cunt smells like candy. I wanted to see if it tasted the same.”
Imagine a perverted old guy grabbing his dick while watching kids play in a playground. That will give you an idea of the sleazy look on my father’s face when he asks, “Does it?”
The egotistical side of my head wants to say Roxanne’s cunt is the tastiest dish I’ve ever sampled, but my business side shuts it down. Acting as if I can’t stand Roxanne won’t just favor me, it will keep her safe as well.
“If it were, do you think she’d be cooking me breakfast?”
He doesn’t want to believe me, but I’ve given him no reason not to. “If it’s that bad, ship her to the next candidate. Dr. Bates will be more than happy to wade through your slops.”
The mentioned name pisses me off to no end. “As I said earlier, until her debt is paid in full, she’s not going anywhere.”
Not even a man as arrogant as my father could deny the ownership in my voice this time around. It has his lips begging to hitch into a smirk, but for some reason, he holds it back.
“Very well. Do with her as you wish.”
He stands from my seat before buttoning the middle button of his business suit jacket. Considering the hour, I’m going to assume he’s about to turn in for the night. Most of the load in this industry is done at night. It’s why I rarely sleep.
