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“I don’t know what you’re thinking, Luka. I never know what you’re thinking, for that matter, but I o know this wedding is going to happen, and you’re going to be a part of it.” He’s right; I will be. Just not the part he was expecting me to play. I nod my head and say nothing more to satisfy him.
“Am I finished here?” I ask him, shoving out of my chair and standing to adjust my suit jacket.
“You are. I think you can handle anything else from the laundry mat situation.”
“I handled it. It won’t happen again,” I inform him.
“Very well. What about the money coming in from Colombia?”
“Same as usual, Father. No problem there either.”
“Good. Good. Then you’re free to go.” He waves his hand to dismiss me, and I quickly turn and walk out of his office and down the hall to my room. I need a break. I need a few minutes to collect myself when I see Gabriella. She’s wearing a skirt much too short to be going to see my father in, but she stalks toward me in the hallway nevertheless.
“Luka,” she says, nodding her head at me.
“Gabby. What are you doing here so early?” Gabby is what she is, a common whore if you ask me. She only comes here for one thing, and we all know what that is. Not that I haven’t used her a time or two myself, I have, but my father is much older than her.
“Your father has some business for me to attend to today,” she answers, her cheeks stained a pretty pink color. I reach for her, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and pulling her closer to me.
“Is that right? He has business for you?” I ask her. Her lips part as she looks at me and nods her head.
“He does.”
“I see. Well, I hope to see you after you take care of business then,” I tell her. She smiles up at me and nods her head.
“I’m sure that could be arranged,” she purrs. I’m sure it can be. She pulls away from me and turns, heading for my father’s office as I finish the walk to my room. Once inside, I shrug out of my jacket and unbutton my shirt. I need a shower. I need the thoughts of Delaney out of my head.
I strip out of my remaining clothes and walk into the bathroom, turning the shower on. Once it’s warmed up, I step inside and slide the glass door shut behind me. My cock is hard, needing a release that I’m sure Gabby could give me later, but I have far too much pent-up energy and frustration right now.
So I grab my cock in my hand and begin to stroke it. I think about Delaney. I think about her lips wrapped around my cock and all the dirty things I want to do to her even though she wouldn’t let me. She hates me, and that just eggs me on.
I fist my cock and tug as I think about sinking myself inside her. How tight would she be? How wet would she get for me? I keep stroking, up and down, until I can’t take anymore. My balls draw up, and I release, spraying my cum all over the shower wall. I grunt as the last of the visions of her slowly fade away. Maybe I am fucked up for thinking about her like this. Maybe I am wrong, but I don’t care. One day I will bend Delaney Bianchi over and take her from behind. I will have her in whatever way I see fit.
I wash quickly and climb out of the shower, drying myself. Then I walk back into my room and dress in fresh clothes. I have orders for tonight, and I plan to make good on them.
Once I’m finished dressing, I grab my cell and keys and head for the door again. I pass my father’s office on my way out when I hear Gabby’s moans of pleasure. Shaking my head, I saunter down the stairs and out the front door when Rigo, one of my father’s men, stops me.
“Hey, Luka. You have a minute?” I turn to face him, wondering what he wants.
“What is it?”
“There’s been some talk,” he says, glancing over his shoulder to be sure no one else is listening to us.
“About?”
“Your brother. He’s been talking to a lot of your father’s guards lately,” he reports.
“That isn’t anything new, is it?”
“It is. Romano doesn’t get involved in anything besides finances,” he tells me. He’s right. Romano doesn’t deal with the dirty work the rest of us do.
“What’s the talk about?” I ask curiosity piqued.
“Protection mainly. Romano’s seeking more protection,” he tells me. I can see the look on his face. There’s more, and I’m not going to like it.
“From whom?”
“You.” Now I smirk.
