Page 47 of Royal Desire

So deep, it goes straight to my cock. I count on every set of eyes being glued to her so I can adjust myself beneath the small cocktail table at the back of the room. I have the perfect view and think about why she’s back.

The Mafia...

What have you gotten yourself into, Red?

It must be bad if she was willing to run home to get away. Especially when she’s proved all these years that her goal in life is to run away from me.

By the end of the song, whoops and cheers fill the lounge. My clients eat her up like she’s the most delectable delicacy on the planet, which at one time, for me, she was. The thought of any other man fighting their dick right now makes me burn from the inside out.

I’m slapped out of my Ruby haze when a hand lands on my back. It’s two of my clients from Seattle. And they aren’t just A-List. They skim the top of all my lists.

Brand Vitale and his attorney, Arthur Ramos.

Art and I go back to my first year out of law school. He was my mentor at the firm. Art Ramos takes criminal defense to a different level. He was a beast in the courtroom when I started. I worked under him for a year before he left to practice on his own.

Now, his clients rarely see the courtroom because he’s become a beast at negotiations.

I use the term negotiations lightly. Art Ramos has connections as high as the sky, mainly because his number one client is none other than Brando Vitale, Jr.

Brand runs his family business, Vitale Holdings, but his real business is on the downlow. When Eli Pettit explained the new-and-improved Mafia, I knew exactly what he meant. Brand is as Italian as they come, and Art’s family is from Peru. From my time working with Art, I heard all about their history. They grew up together. Art will do anything for Brand, and vice-versa. From what Art insinuated, anything meant everything.

When life went to hell and I needed the favor of a lifetime, I knew who could get that shit done. The only thing Art negotiated in return was for me to take on him and Brand as clients when he found out I planned to move home and take over Deacon Financial.

Art came through for me, and I’ve returned the favor. I refuse to call it a marker, but I know that’s what it is.

Brand Vitale and Art Ramos get a financial planner and broker to manage their investments.

Their legitimate investments. It was my only stipulation. Because there are plenty of the other kind too. As long as I didn’t touch a penny of the illegitimate revenue, I was eager to make a deal.

I stand and offer my hand to my old boss and his boss. They are the picture of business, which means they don’t look at all like the Mafia. “Art. Brand. It’s good to see you.”

Art brings his drink to his lips for a sip. “Sorry we’re late. Brand’s mom is watching both our broods this weekend. It was a shit show getting out of the house. Tess doesn’t like to leave the kids.”

Brand surveys the lounge before turning back to me. “This place is impressive. Everyone is talking about the manor. Aria tried to get a reservation, but they were booked for the next eighteen months straight. Quite the exclusive weekend you’re putting on.”

“A weekend at The Manor at Winslet is one of the few things that got Tess away from the kids,” Art adds.

“I’m glad you could both make it. I booked this when the place was still in renovations. Where are Aria and Tess?” I make it a point to know the names of all family members of my clients. I even know some dogs and cats. I’ve got to put my photographic memory to use somehow since I don’t exercise that skill in the courtroom much these days.

Brand slides a hand into his pocket. He and Art might be my only clients who aren’t laser focused on Ruby. “They’re getting changed. We missed dinner, but we’re looking forward to the rest of the weekend.”

“I know the owner. If you want to book a room before the next century hits, let me know, and I’ll put you in touch. I’m glad I reserved it again for next year too. We’re only a few hours in, but I have a feeling my clients will revolt if this isn’t an annual thing.”

“Consider us those clients.” A beautiful woman who looks years younger than Art fits herself to his side and offers me her free hand. “Tess Ramos.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad you’re here,” I say.

Another woman joins the group holding a glass of red wine. She’s got long brown hair and is taller than Tess. “Sorry I’m late. I had to take a call from a patient.”

Brand slides a hand down her back and doesn’t hide the fact it lands on her ass. “This is my Aria—Dr. Vitale to the rest of the world.”

She leans into her husband and lifts to her toes to kiss him. “No one cares about the doctor title but you.”

Brand holds her close. “I’ll shout it from the rooftops. No one is prouder of you than your husband.”

Aria finally turns to me. “You must be Payne. Thank you for the lovely weekend.”

I lift my chin. “It’s my pleasure.”