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Everything about her screamed it—she was the world’s most oblivious prey.
And appealed to my deepest instincts.
Racing dogs ran even fake prey as long as it ran away, right? Surely, they knew the prey wasn’t worth it, but thechasefor the prey—thatwas what their primal selves howled for.
Just like them, the hunt was better than the meal that came after it in my eyes, and that tasty little morsel would make for good exercise.
I’d had enough of deer and rabbits that gave themselves over willingly, knowing my nature and believing themselves the exception.
Here I had a little bird that could fly away, one I would have to coax closer until she was sitting willingly in my hand.
A different kind of hunt, something novel. I salivated.
I stared after her hungrily, taking in the way she reached up to right the bun she must have set askew when she ran into me, just to stop in her trail and rip the hair band free.
Her red hair fell free, cascading down her back, and the way it swayed as she continued her march forward only accentuated the way her perky ass moved with every step.
I felt my cock twitch in my pants.
Who was this girl and why was she evoking such a strong reaction in me?
I wanted to sink my teeth in and devour her.
Before I could act on that urge, my hypervigilance betrayed me, informing me that someone was coming straight for me—on purpose this time.
I identified Flavio from the sound of his gait, but I was already turning to face him on instinct. I never left my back open to anyone, and not even my underboss was exempt from that rule.
“Don,” he nodded to me respectfully. I looked back, but the little bird had already flown off. Damn, too bad. I hadn’t seen such an interesting plaything in a while.
“Flavio,” I nodded back, already walking towards him. “Saw me from the window, did you?”
“Yes sir,” Flavio said. He didn’t have to gesture back to the café where we’d agreed to meet today, I was already headed that direction. “I figured I’d come out to warn you that this one is already showing signs of belligerence.”
I grunted in annoyance.
“Of course he is,” I groused.
“I’m sure he’d change his tune if he knew who you were, but…” Flavio shrugged, and I didn’t bother with a reply.
Flavio knew why I hid my identity to everyone but him and my consigliere—after all, the Pellicos presumed me dead years ago, and as the only surviving member of the Mastro line I couldn’t afford to put any level of target on my back.
Especially back when I was younger and my consigliere led the family in my stead.
I’d been defenseless and anonymity was key to my survival.
Even now, I still found it advantageous to be unknown.
For instance, on days like this.
Benjamin Greco was one of the capos that had risen to his rank thanks to my absence, and ever since I’d taken power I’d been keeping a close eye on him.
Gianni, my consigliere, had done well in promoting him at the time, but we were no longer short of members like we had been just after my parents’ murder and that meant that Greco wasn’t my only option anymore.
He’d done an alright job, good enough that I was content to let him stay in his corner, but now his head was getting big.
I wanted to see exactly how he was acting, and even the most arrogant pricks kept their head down when they knew their boss was in the room.
However, the fact that he was willing to act up with Flavio sitting in front of him said a few things.
