บททั้งหมดของ Through Smoke and Steel: A Mafia Romance: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

❦ Rosalind ❦ Three days’ worth of cocktails and wines pushed against my skull as I opened my eyes in Hudson on a lovely Saturday afternoon.“Oh fuck,” I murmured, pressing a hand to my forehead.Oh fuck indeed. A massive hangover threatened to split my skull as I reached over to grab the bottle of water on the side stool.I’d almost pressed it to my lips when I saw the floating particles. I returned it with shaky hands.The journey to the fridge was no less perilous, and I grabbed its double doors for dear life and picked up a fresher, cleaner bottle to drink.Juliana had dragged me from rooftops to pools, museums to dens, restaurants and jet skiing. I even vaguely remembered a private jet ride. To where? I couldn’t tell you, but I knew it had been fun.I hoped my stalker had watched like he said he always did. But just as I thought that, I realized he would have flown over to ruin my parade if he’d seen me get along with guys at the parties. Maybe he was too busy opening jars to sta

❄︎ Viktor ❄︎I struggled to part my face from the dip of her freckled shoulder, the skin puckered with goosebumps from my breaths.“Don’t worry, you’re already so close, you could taste it.” I didn’t correct her assumption that it was the hotel I was talking about. That was inevitable. The exciting part of that journey was her, but she didn’t need to know that. People can’t weaponize what they don’t know.“I could, but I made you a promise. Only in my bed.” Her scent made me heady. My voice came out slurred, or maybe it was the vodka.No, it was the way she pressed her behind against me, rocking to the beat of the smooth R&B track that played.“Don’t test me, gattina.”“Noted.”She stopped so abruptly I almost begged her to continue. I pulled back, spinning her in place to face me.Gods, she was beautiful. Soft makeup contrasting with that fiery defiance in her eyes. Silky smooth skin and cleavage fighting her armless dress.“Where is Dante?” she asked.“He’s… safe.”“Why did you hes

❦ Rosalind ❦He leaned in, ever so slowly, like a snake coiled to strike.“You are mine, and I am yours.” His lips brushed mine.A retort burned in my throat, but melted into desire where his grip resided, and his lips slanted against mine.The cheering and hooting around us faded into a dull cadence, my racing heart beating louder than my common sense should.“Get a room!” a drunken voice yelled, to the amusement of the guests.Parting my lips with his tongue, a guttural groan vibrated my mouth and pooled in my thong.My eyes opened to follow his flushed face when he separated, my lips still tingling from the onslaught of his.Gray eyes bore into my soul, burning with such passion I was at a loss for words.“Forgive me, and I swear to you, it will never happen again,” he whispered against my cheek.“What information did you get?” I asked as the floor opened to other couples.Attention no longer on us, not completely. He led me to a table, where, instead of pulling out a chair for me,

❄︎ Viktor ❄︎ (17 years old) I grounded myself in the continuous hum of the air conditioners. Anything to distract me from the groaning man hanging from chains hooked into his flesh from the ceiling. “Guerrero Sanchez, I believe you’ve met my sons.” Father’s rough tilt echoed in the warehouse. My elder brother Paulo shifted beside me, and I mentally ordered him to be still before he drew Father’s attention. “Darko, I swear on my life, on my pregnant wife, on anything… I did not steal from you. You know me,” the man hanging from the rafters pleaded, blood clotting around his mouth and running in rivulets down his back and stomach where the chains embedded. Guerrero was one of my father’s capos. He handled money, and now that money was short at the end of the year, skimmed off smartly to avoid detection and amounting to $608,000. The man swung slightly from the chains, a gold sigil glinting on his shirt. It was an open serpentine mouth with a gun muzzle sticking out of it.

❦ Rosalind ❦ “And why am I just learning of this?” The stumble in my heartbeat eased as I squeezed the railing. I concentrated on slowing my breaths to a normal pace. “To keep you from making a mistake. Your emotions…” “My emotions are fine.” I emphasized with a hard edge to my tone. With a patronizing nod, Marcus took another step forward. “After the Notte di Stelle, I have a plan to end this once and for all.” “I need to see the footage.” I cut in. No more making decisions on a whim, no more blind trust. Marcus lost my trust when he kept something as big as the political stakes of the hotel from me. It made me feel so blind, so foolish. “I wish you could too, if only to ease your mind. But it was on the network only once. Whoever saw it, saw it. Then it burned. You have to trust me.” How convenient, but I decided to let it go for now. My eyes fixed on the orange rays of light scattering from my ring, I asked, “What do you have in mind?” His voice dropped to a