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“You are getting better at that. I’ll be five minutes. Ten at most. Get that pussy wet, and if you come before I shove my cock into you, like last time, you are off the team.”
Team. Harem. Whatever.
She glares at me.
I grip her chin and yank her face. “Lose the attitude, or you won’t get your hit, bitch.”
Her eyes lower.
Much better. Goddamn junkies these days.
I pull my zipper up and tuck in my shirt. Then I climb out of the car.
Freddy, Nathan, and Dean are leaning against the paintwork, shades on, jacket collars flicked up, sleeves tugged, looking gangster as hell. Dean is puffing out a smoke, Nathan chewing on a pick, as he seems to always do.
A couple of yards away, Salvo’s SUV is parked, and he has a couple of guys standing around it like mine are. They’re more alert, mostly because of my surname.
Mancini.
We own this city and the distribution of basically everything illegal. From guns to drugs to women.
Salvo’s door opens, and he steps out. He’s over a decade older than me, tall with a paunch, dark brown hair, and today, he’s wearing a fur coat.
What in the ever-loving God?
“It’s fucking eighty-five degrees, Vitale. You auditioning for the Godfather role?” I ask, laughing.
My guys snigger.
“Fuck you, Mancini,” he says, stopping in front of me with a scowl.
Which has zero effect on me.
“No thanks. Got a bitch in the car for that when we’ve finished here. So, let’s get this over with. What did you want to talk to me about?” I reply, shoving my hands into my jacket.
Where I have a gun stashed.
“Sounds like we have a little problem with our agreement. And your payment,” Salvo says, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.
Jesus, he’s going for the full Pacino look today.
A couple of times, I’ve cringed at the thought of Mia being manhandled by this guy, but honestly, who wants to think about their sister having sex? It’s creepy as hell.
His hair is beginning to thin on top, but he’s not decrepit. There are way worse matches going on in Italy in our extended family. She won’t be grateful, but she should be. Or rather, when I’m the Don, she won’t open her mouth and complain.
I’m sick of Joe having the reins. He needs to stand down and let me run the show. I have far more energy than him and ideas he won’t listen to.
The fuck, he even kicked my ass for trying to have a drink with Mia a few nights ago.
Sure, I was hoping she’d come with me so I could drop her at Salvo Vitale’s. If she had, we could’ve fast-forwarded our plans.
And when I say “kicked my ass,” my father slapped me around the head and shoved me up against the wall. My neck still has bruises.
Asshole.
“There’s no problem. It’s simply a delay. You will marry my sister,” I say. “Then, when my father is removed, we can expand your distribution and get the money flowing.”
“How? Barrett has three men protecting her now,” Salvo growls. “Three. And they’re goddamn ex-military.”
