*Isadora’s POV* He didn’t fūcking do that. No, he didn’t. I was heaving as I paced the bedroom in my fūcking birthday suit. I was thinking of a way to get back at him. He had to pay for leaving me like this. I was still throbbing in between my legs, even though he had been gone for at least thirty minutes. It was useless to even try to finish the job since he has been the only one to make me really cūm. “Cazzo!” I yelled, throwing my hands in the air just as the door opened. “Qualcuno è di cattivo umore.” (Italian for “Someone is in a bad mood.”) Penelope snickered from behind me, making me turn to give her the death glare. “You would think you would be in a good mood after having gotten it on in a new house.” She laughed, wiggling her brows at me as her eyes roamed up and down my naked body. “That’s the fūcking point!” I hissed, walking toward her to get the luggage she had brought me before throwing it on the bed. “Well, fūck.” She muttered, making me roll my eyes. “What
*Alberto’s POV* “Francisco.” I hissed through clenched teeth as he pulled me towards the poker table. “Alberto, it’s only for a few minutes.” He replied, shaking his head. “Sono venuto solo per parlare. Lo sai, cazzo.” (Italian for “I just came to talk. You fūcking know that.”) I said, stopping in my tracks. “Scared of losing, Morello?” Santoro asked, blowing out the smoke in his mouth, making my jaw tick. “I promise we will talk in a few minutes, but we haven’t been out together in a while. Do this for me.” Francisco stated, clapping my back before calling the waiters over. Before I could reply, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I immediately fetched it, walking off to read the message. Unknown: What a nice family reunion. Enjoy it while it lasts. This mother fūcker is really starting to piss me off. I locked my phone, slipping it back in my pocket before turning to Francisco. “Ecco il tuo whisky, Fratello.” (Italian for “Here’s your whiskey, Brother.”) He said, handing me
*Alberto’s POV* “Join us, Mattias.” Santoro told his son, patting the seat next to him. It took everything in me not to pull my gun from my back and place a bullet in each of their heads. Especially when that asšhole pulled my angel with him to the table. “Solo un gioco, padre.” (Italian for “Only one game, father.”) He said, taking the seat his father motioned before his eyes found mine. “I promised my girl we’d spend the night together.” I swear on everything, I was fūcking seconds from creating chaos, but Isa cleared her throat before speaking. “You know that’s not—” She was saying, but the fūcker pulled her on his lap and placed his disgusting lips on hers, making her shift away uncomfortably. Even though I was mentally planning every second of this asšhole’s tortūre, I felt Francisco stiffen at my side. It was obvious that he didn’t like this shīt any more than me, making me even more confused about the fūcking agreement to marry her off. “Now, now, Mattias. You know
*Isadora’s POV* I stopped at the end of the hallway before taking a deep breath. My legs still felt shaky from Padrino’s hard fūck, not that I was complaining. But I definitely wanted to get this shīt over with so I could get home and receive my punishment. My body shivered in excitement just thinking about it. As soon as my eyes scanned the casino, Penelope’s eyes grew wide before she jogged to my side. “I thought he would kill you for sure.” She whispered as soon as she reached me, making me roll my eyes. “No, but his dīck sure broke the shīt out of my pūssy.” I replied, biting my bottom lip at the memory. “Dio, I didn’t need to know that.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Preparati. Ce ne stiamo andando.” (Italian for “Get ready. We are leaving.”) I told her as I continued walking towards the poker table that I had been at earlier, ready to get the hell out of here. “Così presto?” (Italian for “So soon?”) She pouted, looking over to Edgardo with a frown. “You will get
*Penelope’s POV* After Isa and her godfather left, Edgardo grabbed me by the waist and took me to the car. He looked tense as hell, but I wasn’t quite sure why. I thought he would say something as soon as he got into the SUV that he was driving, but he didn’t even look my way. He only gripped the steering wheel tightly, like he wanted to murder it. I kept glancing between him and the buildings we were flying past. Oh, I forgot to mention that he drives like cops were chasing us down the roads of Italy. I turned my face to look at him again when I got the impression that he would turn, making my eyes grow wide as I flipped my head towards the window again. ‘Dio mio, that couldn’t be more obvious. How fūcking embarrassing.’ I thought to myself. I know I have been flirting with him for a few days now, but now in the car, it was somewhat different. I felt embarrassed to even be caught staring. “Che cos’è?” (Italian for “What is it?”) He asked in his deep voice that made any gir
*Penelope’s POV* “Get back in the fūcking car.” Edgardo ordered through clenched teeth, making me close my eyes to control my raging heart. I was not expecting him to scare the shīt out of me. After placing my hand over my chest and calming down a bit, I opened my eyes and glared at him. “Give me my phone back.” I told him, making him chuckle darkly. I pursed my lips, considering what was my best option. Running was out of the question because of my hurt ankle and the fact that I was wearing heels. My asš was already slow without these hookēr heels. Testing his patience again was another option, but the way he was laughing wasn’t the ‘oh you’re funny’ laugh. I’m pretty sure it’s the laugh of the predator getting ready to feast on his prey. But I’m not one to back down. I never did with all those rich snobs, making fun of me, and I won’t now. “I said—” He declared, taking a deep breath before leaning his face inches from mine. “Get. In. The. Fūcking. Car. Penelope.” Clearly my
*Edgardo’s POV* I had to kiss her. Her lips were begging for attention and I could no longer hold back. I know I always said that I had no time for any sort of distractions and, fūck was she a distraction, but it’s stronger than me. Maybe I just needed to fūck it out of my system, or so I keep telling myself. There was something about Penelope. Something that I couldn’t put my finger on, but was willing to discover nonetheless. I nipped her lips, making her whimper and drive me crazy. I was done holding back. I released her neck and waist, forcing her legs open to straddle me. “Edgardo.” She panted, pulling down on her tiny as fūck skirt. “Don’t.” I hissed, grabbing her wrists as her eyes flickered back nervously. “I like it when people watch.” I told her, making her gulp. There was something about people watching someone else in their intimacy, but not everyone understood that. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a sharer, but I like to be watched when I’m pleasing a woman. “I’m
*Penelope’s POV* Edgardo went still, making me look at his face with brows furrowed. “Edgardo?” I whispered as his jaw ticked in anger. “Doppia sicurezza e preparati a un attacco.” (Italian for “Double security and get ready for an attack.”) Edgardo spat, ignoring my question and pushing open the door. ‘Oh, we have arrived already?’ I asked myself. Damn, I must have been really distracted. ‘Of course, being a hoe.’ The little devil on my shoulder chimed in. Or maybe it was the angel. Dio, I don’t even know anymore. A rough tug forced me back to the present. “Let’s go Penelope.” Edgardo muttered as he drew his gun, looking all over the area before pulling me behind him and shouting at the others in Italian. What the hell was going on? “Edgardo!” I shouted, pulling my hand back, making him turn with a glare. “What the hell is going on? What did they send you?” “Penelope.” He hissed, tightening his hold on my hand, and pulling me against his chest. “Don’t ask fūcking questio