Chapter 9: The Ache That Won’t Fucking Die.

Vittorio’s POV, One Of Vittorio’s luxurious mansion.

Porca puttana! Mother Fucker!, the water scalding hot as it poured over my body.

My teeth ground together as I gripped my hard cock, stroking to and fro with furious, punishing jerks my meat bouncing off the water as my cock was about to burst with pleasure. My balls were swollen and rock hard like nothing I have felt before.

She was in my head.  Burning me alive. Distracting me.

Katarina Delgado. The feel of her soft, trembling mouth consuming mine…The way her thick ass brushed against my lap sending electfying shocks to my dick when she stumbled forward...

The wild, terrified look in her soft brown eyes.

It was fucking seared into my brain.

 No woman had ever made me wake up hard, desperate, aching like a fucking animal.

No woman, not in my whole cursed life, had ever made me feel like this.Except for her, Fiorella.

A memory I never wanted to resurrect."

I pumped my hand, going faster and growling low in my throat, the slap of wet skin against skin filling the steam-thick air.

My muscles tensed, cords of steel under my skin, the veins in my forearm were popping as I squeezed harder.

I slammed my hips forward into my own hand, imagining it was her tight pussy squeezing me, her soft whimpers filling my ears.

I grunted, almost snarling.

"Bastarda," I cursed in a low breath, my abs tightening, the muscles in my legs locking up.

I came hard, shooting against the slick tile, my whole body shuddering with the force of it.

"Porca troia," I growled in Italian under my breath.

Fucking bitch. Fucking angel. Fucking beautiful, dangerous little bitch.

I braced myself against the wall, my heart hammering.

Steam curled around me, a heavy, suffocating cloud.

I had to find her.

No woman had ever done this to me since Fiorella. Not until her.

I stood there for a moment longer, breathing hard, feeling the rage swirl hotter inside me.

She had no idea who she was running from. No idea the kind of man she had awakened.

When I caught her and I would catch her.   I wasn’t just going to fuck her. I was going to ruin her.

I stepped out of the shower, yanking a towel around my waist.

My skin steamed under the open air, the light catching every hard cut of my abs, my chest, my arms.

I didn’t bother putting a shirt on.

Let them see. Let them know exactly who owned this fucking city.

I headed down the marble staircase, water dripping from my hair, each step echoing like a war drum through the giant house.

Two of my men were waiting — Ghost and Franco.

They straightened the second they saw me, stationed on either side of the main hall like statues.

No one spoke. The silence was heavier than a loaded gun.

In the far corner, hunched over a sleek black laptop, was Pietro.

The twitchy little tech genius was already typing furiously, tapping at the keyboard like his life depended on it. It might.

I walked past my men without looking at them, the towel slung low on my hips.

The air thickened with tension.

Franco flinched slightly under my stare, and I smirked coldly. "Pietro," I barked.

The techie jumped, knocking over his coffee cup.

He scrambled up, clutching the laptop to his chest, his wide brown eyes flicking nervously to the wet lines of my body, the muscles, the scars, the raw masculine power.

Pathetic. But useful. I jerked my chin once.

"Come." Pietro rushed over, nearly tripping over himself.

He stood trembling a few feet away, laptop clutched like a shield.

He was already pink in the face, stealing glances at my bare chest when he thought I wasn't looking.

The pathetic little bitch was in love with me. I could smell it on him like a sickness.

I let him look.

"Brief him," I snapped at Franco without looking. He knew what I meant, I had informed him about finding Katarina.

Franco cleared his throat, voice rough.

"The target is Katarina Delgado," he said. Brown eyes. Brunette. "

Pietro’s hands shook harder. I could smell his nervous sweat from here, sharp and sour.

He adjusted his glasses, nodding frantically.

 Franco continued. " Last seen at Massimo's club.

I watched Pietro absorb every word, his fingers already moving on the keyboard, pulling up city maps, traffic cams, and facial recognition databases.

Good. Fear made him fast.

I prowled closer, standing over him. He shrank into himself, but he didn’t stop working.

Smart dude.

"Pietro," I said calmly, voice slicing through the air like a blade.

"I want a full trace."

He swallowed hard, nodding so fast his glasses slid down his nose.

"Find the girl," I said. "Track her movements. Her family. Her friends. I want everything."

Pietro fumbled for his tablet, his hands shaking slightly.

"Yes, Don De Luca," he breathed.

I turned to Ghost, who stood rigid, sweat glistening at his temple.

"Go to Massimo," I ordered.

"Rip the fucking information out of him if you have to. Get his surveillance footage, his staff records, anything. Anything that touches Katarina Delgado."

Ghost nodded hard, fists clenched. "We'll have everything on her by midnight."

I stepped closer, crowding his space, until he could smell the soap and heat still clinging to my skin. I stared at him for a long moment, letting the silence drag.

Midnight was too slow. Way too fucking slow.

I wanted her back under my hand.  Under my control. Now.

"If you fail," I said quietly, my voice almost tender,  "I’ll make sure you feel every second you wasted."

Ghost swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead.

I turned back to Pietro, who was staring at me again, his eyes flickering lower, his breath shallow.

I smirked coldly. "Find her," I said again, voice like a death sentence. "Or I’ll find you."

Pietro flushed bright red and ducked his head, already tapping furiously on his tablet.

Katarina Delgado didn’t understand yet. She belonged to me now. And I would tear the whole fucking city apart to get her.

The fucking ache in my cock that hadn’t gone away even after jerking off like a fucking animal in the shower.

I needed a body.

"Franco," I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut bone.

He jumped to attention.

"Bring me a soft, stupid girl who knows how to kneel and suck," I said coldly, my voice dripping with venomous heat. Something I can fuck until I forget her face."

"Now."

Franco hesitated for half a second, A stupid mistake.

I stepped toward him slowly, deliberately.

"You heard me," I growled low, the rage leaking through my control.

"Something young. Something soft. Something desperate to please."

Franco nodded so fast he nearly tripped over himself, already reaching for his phone.

I turned back toward the windows, the city lights burning through the night like fire.

She would be mine again soon.

But until then...

I needed to fuck this hardness out of my system. Hard. Fast.  Without mercy.