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“I’m not a religious man, but I really doubt God is listening to you.” I push the head of his cock against his mouth. It kindof folds in half, but the bastard keeps his mouth closed. I sigh. “I knew you were going to make this hard. Which is ironic since your dick will never be that way again.”
“You need some help?” Antonio asks from across the room, his eyes sparkling with laughter.
I nod. “Open his mouth for me. That way I don’t have to touch anymore of his junk than I am now.”
Antonio comes down and slaps Adam on the side of his mouth. “Open wide, asshole,” he laughs, shaking his head as he watches me. “Well, maybe not that wide. You sure didn’t have much to work with, did you?”
The man clamps his mouth shut, causing both me and Antonio to exhale in irritation. “They never make it easy,” I mutter.
“Nope, but sometimes that’s fun,” Antonio says, pulling his gun from the back of his pants. He uses the butt of his gun to shove it against the man’s teeth. Antonio doesn’t take no for an answer. He shoves harder and I’m pretty sure some of the bastard’s teeth break—not that I care. Then Antonio uses his hands to pull Adam’s bleeding mouth apart. “Do it quick,” he orders. “And I get to hit you every time I feel that man’s dick touching my fingers.”
I laugh and stuff the limp appendage into our victim’s mouth, gagging him with it.
“Look at that. He deep throats like a natural,” I joke.
“He’s probably done it a million times for old Abram,” Antonio points out.
I nod in agreement as I bring up my knife to make sure Adam sees it. It’s covered in his blood and the man’s eyes go round with fear or hell, maybe it’s the pain and loss of the blood—either way I enjoy the look. I let the pointed end of my blade drag against my victim’s chest, making the shape of a heart just because. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt, but hey, when I finally get it cut out,you won’t feel anything anymore. You also won’t be breathing the same air as my wife. I think we could both agree this will be a win-win for both of us. Mine will just be happier.” The bastard says something in response, but it comes off muffled because he’s busy trying to swallow down his limp, pencil dick just to breathe. I get to work, sawing into his chest to cut out his heart. Antonio hums while I do it. I look over at him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just thinking you were made to be my Capo. I never realized how much alike we are. Plus, we’re both too damn pretty for our own good.” I roll my eyes and go back to work.
“Shut up and leave me alone. I got a wife to go fuck.” Antonio laughs harder and hell, I join in.
angelina
. . .
One Month Later
“Victor! Guess what—wait, what are you doing?”
“Pissing.”
“Outside the fence?” I ask, as he turns around to zip up his pants.
He shrugs. “What were you going to tell me?”
“What?” I ask, before I remember what I came out to tell him. “Oh, I was looking on my phone at the daily news and do you remember that documentary we watched a while back about the man who killed his pregnant wife?”
“Vaguely rings a bell,” he responds.
“Karma crept up on him yesterday. Apparently, he was killed in a prison riot. Someone shanked him. I know it makes me horrible, but I like that he won’t be free and living a good life—especially since his wife and child didn’t get that same option.”
He grins and then leans down to kiss me. The kiss is way too sweet and quick. “I’m glad you’re happy, Kitten,” he replies gently, kissing me once more.
“Well, I am, except you really shouldn’t be peeing outside the property line,” I admonish.
“Would you rather I did it in the yard, Kitten?” he asks innocently.
“You don’t own this place yet. You just put an offer in. Besides, you’re allowed to pee inside. The water is on, you know.”
He smirks. It’s a look I love so much that my knees get weak. “Wedon’t own this place yet, butwewill. I told the realtor to pay whatever it took to get the place. I don’t give a fuck.”
“No,you. It’s not ours. We’re not really married,” I remind him. “You seem to be forgetting that. You even went so far as to hang our fake marriage license on your wall.”
He puts his arms around me, pulling me in closer. “I told you to start planning the wedding you want, Gia. You’re the one dragging your feet. You’re also the one that picked this house out and therefore it’sours.”
His words make my heart skip a beat. I do love this house. It’s a huge, one-story mid-century home. The architecture was much like that of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Usonian designs, which mean there are brick, wood, and lots of windows. I adored it at once. I’m not sure that Victor did, but he watched me as I ecstatically described the place to him and called his realtor, meaning he put in the offer to buy sight unseen. He seems to like it now though—now being his first walk through of the place. Or maybe not since he’s peeing outside the fence. I shake my head and turn my attention back to the conversation that we seem to have more and more. “Honey, aren’t you afraid we need time together? I want you to be sure you are comfortable with marriage. I never want you to feel like you were forced into it by Sam’s crazy family,” I explain.
