Married to the mafia boss Series

#5 Chapter 11



Gabe

Limbo…

That’s what this is.

The place where I’ve been stuck all this time and people have been telling me I need to get out.

Fuck I’m an idiot for not listening.

My fault.

If there’s one thing I hate it’s weakness and I’ve made myself weak by dwelling on the woman I thought was mine.

I sound like a lovesick fool and I don’t know how I got this way especially when she hasn’t been in my life for a lifetime.

Fucking hell.

I’m so tense and pissed off with myself that I can’t even turn to the usual shit I grab when I get all worked up like this, a girl for the night and a few bottles of vintage wine should definitely do the trick. Except they won’t today.

I get home and I just sit by the fireplace looking at the mantel piece. I’ve never actually lit a fire in there and it seems a waste like the rest of the house. I think I bought the house in a pissing contest to show I could have a house just as big as my parents.

I’m hardly ever here though.

I sit and watch night fall. When I hear keys turning in my door I know who it is even before he steps inside.

We all have keys for each other’s houses but only Salvatore comes in and out like the house belongs to him.

Tonight I don’t mind it.

He takes a seat on the sofa in front of me and looks me over.

“Did some digging around when I got some spare time,” he declares. “Found out some very interesting occurrences happening in Sicily. Antonio De Lucca was mysteriously found dead in his home over a week ago. Head decapitated, two bullets to his chest. Wife fled for her life back to the safety of her family. Killer still at large. All the servants and grounds people missing. It was her wasn’t it? Charlotte?” He asks.

“Yeah… It was her.” I answer but I’m stuck on his words. “That all happened and nobody knows here?” I’m shocked to shit because Antonio De Lucca is king here too and news like that would travel fast.

“Nobody knows shit here. I got one of the boys to do some testing and as far as anybody knows Antonio is still alive. I have a source in Italy that says otherwise.”

“She told me he was killed.”

“Well it’s true then. Gabe… there’s something more at work here. Not sure what but it smells of danger. It smells of shit brewing, come the fuck on, she just leaves and there’s no one around in the house to question?” He quirks a brow.

“It was planned.” It just comes to me. It’s the only way anyone could possibly get close enough to Antonio De Lucca let alone fucking decapitate him. “Had to be planned Salvatore. And by people who knew him.”

“The staff. So… what happened between the two of you? Did you speak to her?”

I sigh and straighten up. ” Yeah… short version of the story is… she doesn’t want to be with me anymore. Times have changed and she feels different.” I borrow her words.

“And you believe that?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” I throw back.

“Gabe, cut the shit, remember who you fucking are. Giordano men don’t take shit like that no matter who’s dishing it. You don’t know what she’s been through. The fuck… if she felt that different she wouldn’t have come to The Dark Odyssey looking for you.” He stands and shakes his head at me.

“Salvatore –”

“No, don’t ask me anymore shit. My minds too wrapped up in business. I’m going through contracts and I need to make sure we don’t get screwed. Deal with this. Do it fast too, I need you on top form.”

I nod.

“What about the situation with Antonio?”

“What about it? We don’t need our noses in shit that doesn’t concern us. They all wanted him dead. Everybody did, the fucking motherfucker had too much power. They must have their reasons for the silence. The important thing is she got away.”

She got away… it just makes me wonder how.

How did she get away? I wish again I could have freed her, rescued her.

The doorbell rings and we both look over to it.

I don’t know who the hell that could be. I have no idea who the fuck it is.

Salvatore moves to the door and I follow.

He opens the door and I have to say, today is one serious day that’s full of surprises. Because Charlotte is standing on my doorstep.

She looks from me to Salvatore and her eyes stay on him.

He doesn’t say anything, he just tips his head for a curt nod, glances back to me and leaves us.

When I look at her she’s already got her gaze trained on me.

She’s here… why?

What she said earlier was pretty clear and if it’s to explain, I don’t want to hear it.

“Can I come in?” she asks.

“Sure.” I swing the door wider so she can come inside.

She’s wearing a little jacket over a summer dress that hugs her perfect body that I don’t fail to notice has only improved with the years.

She was fucking perfect before and now she looks like a goddess in full bloom.

It’s added torture to screw with me.

When I close the door and face her she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and presses her lips together.

“You remembered where the house is,” I state. I can’t help the edge of sarcasm that lurks in my comment.

“Of course I remember.”

“Cool. Something I can do for you?”

Her lips part and she looks like she’s gearing up to give me some excuse. I smile and chuckle. Salvatore is right I need to home in on who the fuck I am and stop pussyfooting around shit. That’s what I need to do.

“I came to apologize. I didn’t mean to …” She stops talking and glances down at the carpet then her gaze climbs right back up to meet mine.

“Doll, I get it. There’s not a lot to not get, you don’t feel the same way about me. I’m a tough guy I can take it.” That comment of mine was to throw her, test her, test the deep end of the water instead of treading carefully to the shallow first.

“I just needed to explain so you understand that I don’t mean to sound so harsh or anything.”

“It is what it is, goddess, what the fuck else can it be besides what it is? No need to come checking I understand that you don’t want me anymore.”

She just stares at me like she did earlier with that half-dazed expression like she’s trying to figure out her next move. Her next words.

“It’s not like that.”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Yes, I’m kind of inclined to believe it isn’t like that either because I’m fairly certain that when I was kissing her she was kissing me back. It wasn’t just me kissing her.

I step closer into her personal space and make sure I have her attention as I stare her down.

“Then what was it like? Maybe that’s the part you need to break down for me,” I challenge.

Her gaze drops to my lips and her cheeks flush that soft rose color they always did when she was nervous.

“I…” Her breath catches and those full soft lips of hers part and the same desire that courses through me reflects in her eyes.

It’s the fucking same and I know I should understand she’s been through a lot but selfishness takes over and I remember the Gabe I used to be. There’s no way in hell that I’ll have this doll in front of me telling me shit when it’s clear from the look in her eyes that she wants me too, just as much as I want her. So instead of savoring the triumph I should feel that I’m actually more pissed than I was to begin with.

She went through hell I’m sure, it’s a given.

I went through hell too.

I step forward and instinct must make her step backward. A little gasp escapes her lips when I smooth my hand up her neck and catch her chin, getting a firm hold so she can look me in the eyes and explain what she needs to.

“I’m waiting, you know I’m a busy man. Always have been so explain it to me. If it’s not what I think, then what is it, doll? What the fuck is it?”

She continues her stare and I tighten my grip on her doll-like face. I get up real close to her so my nose brushes against hers and what I see in her eyes is a mingle of fear and raw desire.

“Can’t say it can you?” I jeer, brushing my lips over hers. She feels so damn good on my lips I have to taste her, again. I run my tongue over the edge of her lip and she melts against me, against my grasp and hold on her.

The soft breath that escapes her lips is enough to push me. I had no plans to hold back before and I don’t plan to now.

I press my lips to hers and I do the same thing I did many years ago when I decided this girl was going to be mine. Back then I was a hot-headed twenty six year old who shouldn’t have been looking at the school girl she was.

She’s a long way from being a school girl now but I’m still the hot-headed guy I was back then. The difference is I’m not going to allow anybody to take what’s mine, not even her.

Fuck, not even her.

The strength of the thought makes me see how much I’ve wanted her all these long years and how much I still do.

She’s still my girl whether she wants to be or not.

I capture that pretty mouth of hers for a kiss that she yields to and the moan that hums from her lips drives me insane. Crazy insane and I can’t control myself.

I move with her over to the wall and the two of us crash against it.

The kiss turns from hungry to greedy in seconds. That’s all it takes for us to give in to the wild call of passion that’s come to claim us.

She kisses me back with reckless abandon, twisting her tongue with mine and she tastes so fucking good I can’t believe I survived without the taste of her in my mouth all these years.

She arches her back into me and I feel the press of her massive tits pushing into my chest. I can only respond by pressing my cock into her stomach so she can feel my erection. She presses hard against me and I grab her hands and press them to my cock, clamping over the shaft so she can feel what she does to me. So she can know what she is doing to me with each passing second we’re like this.

She runs her fingers up and down my length, gripping me tighter through the fabric of my pants. It feels like her fingers are on my bare skin.

That’s fine. They fucking will be. She can feel all she wants now because I plan to have her naked in the next five minutes.

She moans louder when I kiss her with more desire and she continues to feel my dick.

Feel me and I’m sure it’s clear she knows the only thing we’ll be doing tonight is making up for lost time.

What I want from her is hot fucking to get it out of my system. I want her… not the pretending. The need to pretend that every woman I’ve been with and tried to be with was her, or like her. I’m not pretending anymore.

She’s the real deal. What I missed. What I craved. What I want.

And that’s the only explanation for anything.

End of story.


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