Velvet Vendetta: His Bride In Blood

I hummed to myself, legs spread wider as I leaned back, head tilted, lips parted, eyes shut. The heat building inside me was impossible to ignore, thick and deep in my belly. My fingers dug into the bed sheets, toes curling with every flick of pleasure.

“Fuck,” I groaned, low and drawn out, letting the intoxication drown me.

Warm lips trailed along my shoulders, hands reached from behind to cup my breasts, kneading them as a tongue teased my skin. The tongue between my legs didn’t stop, curling, flicking, and diving deeper. I shivered, pleasure rolling through my spine.

A hand lifted my chin, guiding my mouth into a kiss. My lips met his, slow, heated, full of need. My fingers tangled in his hair.

Then I heard it.

A voice. Movement.

I broke the kiss and opened my eyes just as he nuzzled into my neck. My gaze shifted to the door.

Dim yellow and blue lights painted the room. The only sound was my own labored breathing and the wet, obscene rhythm of tongues and hands working me over.

The door burst open.

“I’m sorry, Madam. I tried to stop him,” Elliot said, flustered.

The men didn’t stop. They kept going, unbothered, dragging me back into the haze, making it hard to focus, but I stayed aware.

I glanced at the man who entered, then back at Elliot. One silent nod from me, and Elliot understood. He stepped out and shut the door quietly behind him.

“What brings the old man to my club?” I asked as soon as we were alone.

He stood just inside the door, stiff and silent. His face was unreadable, but his eyes, sharp and cold didn’t leave mine. I sighed, letting irritation drip from my tone.

“You think you can just walk in and interrupt this?” I snapped. My body bucked instinctively against the lingering touch still between my thighs, every nerve still lit with want.

His jaw clenched, arms folded behind his back. Still silent.

“Fine,” I muttered through clenched teeth. “You all...out.”

The three men scrambled to obey, quickly gathering their clothes and slipping out. Mr. Aucci stepped aside for them, and then resumed his position like a damn statue. I grabbed my robe from the floor and wrapped it around me, my skin still tingling with unsatisfied need.

I glared at him. My eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

“Good evening, Miss Lavinia,” he said.

“It’s Madam Lillie here, old man,” I snapped, harsher than I meant to but I didn’t care. I walked to the drawer near the window, pulled out my vibrator, and turned to face him again. He bowed slightly, and then raised his head.

“Your father wants you back home.”

I paused and narrowed my eyes. “My father?” A sharp laugh escaped my lips. “Now that’s rich. He threw me out like trash, and now he wants me back? What’s changed? Are you serious right now?”

“Yes, Donna Lavinia.”

My tone turned cold. “Don’t call me that.” I stepped closer, voice dropping cold, “I’m Madam Lillie Reigns now. The daughter your Don disowned.”

He didn’t flinch. He simply bowed and raised his head again, robotic and emotionless.

“Your father wants you back home.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Let him know that the girl he threw out seven years ago is long gone. I don’t take scraps from a man who watched me bleed and turned his back.”

He opened his mouth but faltered. Silence stretched, but I was done waiting. I turned on my heel, heading toward the bathroom, needing to escape the tension clawing at my chest, when his next words froze me in place.

“He’s dying.”

My breath caught. I slowly turned back around. “What did you just say?”

“Don Ricci is in the hospital,” he said, voice low. “There was an attack. He...he’s asking for you.”

I stared at him, stunned. “What? How the hell did that happen?”

“There was an ambush. We didn’t see it coming.” he said, voice strained

Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t let them fall yet. Not until I stormed across the room, grabbed his shirt in a tight fist, and yanked him forward.

“You’re his right-hand man. You were supposed to protect him!” I screamed, shoving him back into the wall. “How the fuck are you alive when he’s barely alive!?”

“He sent me away on an assignment,” he said again, quieter. “We didn’t expect it.”

My fist flew before I could stop myself. The sound of knuckles meeting jaw echoed. He staggered back, holding his face. I didn’t care. The pain in my chest was louder than anything else.

“Elliot!” I barked, voice cracking.

He stepped in immediately, eyes on me, already reading the storm in my expression.

“Madam.”

“Pack my things. We’re flying to Italy tonight,” I said without blinking. “Make sure the right people run this place while I’m gone.”

“Yes, Madam.” He nodded and exited.

I stood there a second longer, licked my lips, swallowing the lump in my throat. Then I turned back to Aucci. My voice dropped to a low growl.

“Who did it?”

He hesitated. “Your father wants to tell you that himself. That’s why he sent me.”

I stared him down, my fury simmering hot. “And what the hell am I supposed to do with you now?”

“I’ve delivered the message.”

“Then get out of my face.”

“Yes, Donna Lavinia.”

The vase beside me shattered against the wall inches from his head. “It’s Madam Lillie, you stupid Italian.”

He bowed once more and walked out.