Angel In The Mafia’s Hell
by Everybody Loves an Outlaw blared through the speakers, and there she was, Summer, stepping onto the stage in fuck-me heels.
“Oh, shit,” Luca muttered, his eyes fixed on the stage.
Lo whispered, “Not good.”
“What do you want us to do, boss?” Matteo asked.
But I couldn’t answer. I was transfixed by the vision before me. Summer, dressed in a red bodysuit that hugged every inch of her body, was a fucking siren. The long sleeves flared at the wrists, but the huge cutout in the middle that exposed her flat stomach and belly button drew my gaze. The top barely contained her tits, and the black underwear, visible through the suit’s fabric, left nothing to the imagination.
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