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Guns and Sex
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2025-06-01 19:15:40
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THE MAFIA DON'S PRETTY BOY Guns and Sex
“Down!” Manuel screamed, shoving Don Ramon out of the line of fire as another volley blasted through the southern corridor. The once-elegant villa now looked like a battlefield…smoke rising from burnt tablecloths, blood smeared across marble, the wedding cake obliterated into frosted ruins.Vincenzo’s hand stayed tight around Noel’s wrist.“We move now,” he said. “Francesca, cover us. Lucas, take the left.”Francesca gave him a look. “You better come out of this with a goddamn ring on your finger.”Vincenzo didn’t smile. “I plan to.”They moved together…Vincenzo shielding Noel, Lucas limping behind them, Francesca and Aria laying cover fire with deadly precision. Every step forward felt like crossing a minefield.“Wait,” Noel said, breathless. “What if this isn’t just a hit?”“What do you mean?” Vincenzo asked, checking his ammo.“What if this isn’t the Syndicate trying to kill us…what if they’re trying to take me?”Vincenzo stopped cold.That thought hadn’t occurred to him…not in the
THE MAFIA DON'S PRETTY BOY WEDDING OF THE CENTURY.
“Hands where I can see them, Don De Luca,” Noel warned, slapping away Vincenzo’s fingers from his thigh.Vincenzo grinned, entirely unrepentant as he shifted closer in the back seat of the sleek black car. “I was only adjusting your bowtie.”“Your hand was three inches south of my bowtie.”“Semantics.”Noel tried to scoot away, but there wasn’t much room with the champagne cooler beside them and Lucas up front occasionally glancing at them through the rearview mirror.“Lucas is watching,” Noel muttered.“I’m not watching,” Lucas said flatly.“You’re listening,” Noel hissed. “Which is worse.”Vincenzo chuckled and leaned closer, lowering his voice until it curled like smoke. “You look good enough to sin with.”“I look good enough to walk down the aisle. Save your perversion until after I say ‘I do.’”“Or…” Vincenzo slid his hand behind Noel’s neck and tugged him into a kiss, slow and maddening. “...we have a pre-vow confession of desire.”Noel gasped when Vincenzo deepened it, teeth sc
THE MAFIA DON'S PRETTY BOY Thread and Needles,Break the rules.
BANG! BANG! BANG!“VINCENZO DE LUCA, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR RIGHT NOW!”Aria’s voice could’ve cracked glass. She pounded the penthouse door with both fists, fury pouring out of every syllable. Her hair was in disarray, eyes wild, lips trembling with rage and panic.“Aria…calm down,” Lucas muttered beside her, though his own jaw was clenched. “He won’t respond if we storm him.”Francesca stood slightly behind them, arms folded tightly, brows drawn. She hadn’t spoken yet…but her silence was louder than any scream.Inside, Noel stood barefoot just beyond the thick reinforced door, fingers twitching at his sides.“They came,” he whispered.Behind him, Vincenzo was slipping on his shirt, eyes locked on Noel’s reflection in the mirror. His movements were slow, measured, haunted.Noel reached for the handle…but didn’t open it.“Let me talk to them,” he said softly.Vincenzo walked over, gaze unreadable. “Are you going to leave if I open that door?”“I just want to see them.”Vincenzo hesitat
THE MAFIA DON'S PRETTY BOY His name on your lips
"Don’t you dare touch me again!"The door hadn’t even closed behind them before Noel shoved at Vincenzo’s chest, breathing wild, eyes wet and feral.Vincenzo caught his wrist mid-swing. His grip wasn’t bruising…but it was tight. Contained fury rippled through him like a tether about to snap.“You’re mine,” he said through clenched teeth.“I’m not!” Noel yanked free, stumbling backward into the foyer. “I don’t belong to anyone. Not anymore.”Vincenzo stepped forward.Noel turned and ran.Past the dark hallway, past the low-lit gallery of framed De Luca family portraits, through the sleek, sterile corridor of the penthouse that smelled like expensive cologne and unshed violence.“Don’t run from me, Noel,” Vincenzo warned, stalking after him. “You know how that ends.”Noel kept running.His bare feet slapped against the marble, pulse roaring in his ears. His shirt was still half-undone from the car ride. His skin burned with the imprint of Vincenzo’s mouth, and his heart…God, his heart…f
THE MAFIA DON'S PRETTY BOY Can't let you go!
“I’m here to say goodbye.”Vincenzo didn’t look up right away. He was sitting behind the grand desk in his study, the weight of the world poured into the veins on his forearms. His right hand was bleeding slightly…another glass shattered. His knuckles bruised from earlier punches into marble.Noel stood in the doorway. His chest was tight, fingers trembling at his sides.This was the only thing harder than what Jean had done to him.Because Jean had tried to own him.But Vincenzo had made him want to belong.“I’m not here to fight,” Noel added when the silence grew too loud. “Just listen.”Vincenzo finally looked up.And the devastation on his face almost made Noel turn and run.“You're leaving,” Vincenzo said, not asking.Noel nodded. “I am.”“Why?”“I don’t love you anymore.”The words landed like a hammer.But Vincenzo didn’t flinch. Didn’t scream. Didn’t rise from his chair.He simply stared, like if he blinked, he’d lose him forever.“You said you didn’t know what love was.”“I f
THE MAFIA DON'S PRETTY BOY Price of Belonging
"Let him go, Jean."Vincenzo’s voice thundered through the courtyard as the first beam of sunlight spilled over the island’s jagged cliffs. Guns were drawn. Bodies were frozen. Hearts were thudding like war drums.Noel stood trembling on the edge of a grand stone balcony, the wind whipping his hair around his face. Jean was behind him, one arm hooked tight across his chest, the other holding a gun pressed firmly to Noel’s temple.“No,” Jean said softly. “No one moves. Not unless you want to see how quickly a heart stops when hope finally shows up too late.”Vincenzo took one step forward, ignoring the wave of panic from Francesca behind him. “Let him go.”Jean’s hand tightened.Noel winced.“I’ll shoot him,” Jean said. “Don’t tempt me, Vincenzo. You’re good at that. You always were.. tempting people to destroy themselves for you.”Manuel whispered into Francesca’s ear, “He’s unraveling.”“No,” Francesca whispered back. “He’s already unraveled.”Jean’s eyes were wild. Bright. Lost. He
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