All Chapters of Beauty and the Mafia Beast: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

[ZEKE]While Camilla’s in the bathroom, I sneak out and retrieve Carlo’s gift from the suitcase. When I return, I sit on the bed, and with exhaustion, my eyes flutter close until the closet door clicks shut. She has slipped something on, thin and short, useless for anything but temptation. Her nipples show clear through the fabric, small peaks that make my cock twitch alive under the thin cotton of my boxers.She walks straight toward me, straddles my lap, settles like she’s claimed the throne she was always meant to sit on. Her thighs grip my hips, and I feel myself growing harder under her weight, my dick pressing up against her through the fabric.“You don’t look sleepy at all,” I whisper, brushing her hair behind her ears, letting my fingers trail against her soft cheek.“You want me to sleep?” she asks, head tilted, batting her long lashes. I shake my head, both hands settling hard on her hips. “Not a chance.”Her nipples are a goddamn distraction. They poke through that patheti

[CAMI]I didn’t think the villa could feel more like a mausoleum than it already did, but today it’s worse. It feels like a funeral is happening—except no one’s going to be buried. At least not yet. I don’t dare go looking for Zeke. Even after how things ended with us last night—especially after how things ended. He gave me the gun he promised, and I held it to his forehead. He knew I wouldn’t pull the trigger. It was sexy to him—wasn’t that exactly what I was trying to be? And then when he started to become drowsy, I asked him a very stupid question. I didn’t expect an answer, but I also felt disappointed because I didn’t get one. If I’m lucky maybe he never heard it. I’ve seen Zeke angry before, but never like that. Not even when he thought I’d betrayed him and that I tried to poison him at the gathering. This time it wasn’t business, wasn’t me. It was something deeper— his family. He did admit he loved his mother and Luzia. Whatever had cracked open in him…it was bad enough that

[CAMI]I wake up half smothered under Zeke’s weight. The blanket has us tangled up, and he’s breathing hot against my neck like a dragon, his arm heavy across my chest, his shoulder pinning me down.“Zeke—” I choke out a laugh, trying to shove him. “You’re killing me.”He makes a sound, something lazy and smug, against my skin. Then he shifts just enough to stop crushing my lungs, but he keeps that iron arm locked around me.“Shh,” he rasps, warm mouth brushing my throat. “Don’t disturb me. I’m very comfortable right now.”And then the bastard goes back to breathing into my neck like I’m his personal pillow.I twist my head, trying to see his face. His lashes rest low, his lips twitching faintly. He’s half-asleep, maybe more. I touch his cheek, my fingers brushing rough stubble above his well-kept beard, and suddenly an idea sparks.My new phone sits on the nightstand. Carefully, I stretch my arm and grab it. He doesn’t stir. Good. I swipe the screen, open the camera, and tilt it so bo

[CAMI]I’m half asleep when the door opens. The first thing I notice is the bandage wrapped around his hand. My stomach flips and I swing my legs off the bed before I’ve even fully woken.Zeke looks at me like he’s been pulled from deep water and hasn’t quite learned to breathe again.“You’re drunk,” I accuse, making my way to him. My voice sounds too loud in the quiet.He hums lazily, then leans forward and presses his palm to my shoulder. For a beat he just holds me. Then he closes his eyes and drops a quick kiss on my head, soft as a promise, before easing toward the bed and sitting down.I stop him before he can plummet onto the mattress. “Hey—no shoes on the bed,” I scold.He sighs, surrendering. His eyes open properly this time, and he says, flat, “I’m pretending to be drunk.”“You sound mad,” I say, crossing my arms. “Why are you mad at me? You said you’d be nice.”I don’t even know why I’m irritated. Maybe it’s because after our breakfast—our stupid, quiet, normal-ish breakfast

[CAMI]In the days leading up to the wedding, it’s all business—because with Zeke, it’s always business. He keeps me close, however, so I watch the negotiations unfold. They aren’t really negotiations because Vance doesn’t have that much power to negotiate in the first place. He’s not a Don. His position in the hierarchy is much lower than I thought. I learn that he’s basically a rebellious crime lord who has never been loyal to anyone but himself. That should have been fucking obvious. But—he has always reached out to higher places, most times only to annoy the men in power. Vincent, my asshole of a half-brother, cracks easily. The smirk he walked in with fades when Zeke lists down just what marrying Luzia Russell would mean. He fumes, embarrasses himself by trying to argue. It becomes clear to me soon, but how little Zeke stands to lose in this bargain other than his reputation—which I know he has a clever plan to elevate further. The only reason why he was against this union is bec