The Power of a Woman: A Mafia Erotic Romance (37 page)

My grin grew so wide it caused the muscles in my cheeks to ache. “We’re on top of the world.”

A soft knock sounded on the door, breaking our moment. Stefan must’ve expected someone, because instead of growing angry over our interruption, he hung his head and called out, “Come in.”

The door opened slowly before Layla sauntered in. I didn’t like her to begin with, and made that known, but I had to admit she’d grown on me over the last month of working together. Stefan had hired her as the company’s in-house lawyer, and it’d be a lie if I said she wasn’t the best at what she did. Property Law was her specialty, and she was definitely an asset to have on the team.

“I have the closing papers,” she said, waving a manila envelope in the air.

I squeezed Stefan’s hand before walking to greet her. “Hey, Layla. Let me take a look at those first.” I sat on the couch with her, and while waiting for her to get the papers out, I glanced up at my husband. The smile on his face was felt deep down in my bones.

This is what happiness feels like.

This is what love feels like.

This is what
power
feels like.

The bright morning sun through the large windows in front of me brought everything into focus. It was Friday, which meant I had the whole weekend to spend some much-needed alone time with my girl. We had a hectic week in our new building as we tried to adjust to not only new jobs, but to married life as well. But things were going well, and it seemed we had everything at our fingertips.

Our brand new office building—home to Giannotti & Associates—was on Fifth Avenue in the heart of Flatiron. You couldn’t find a more prime piece of real estate. And I’d practically stolen it out from beneath the noses of the sellers. There was a reason I was good at what I did, why I could come in and take over anything I wanted. I knew my surroundings, the people I was dealing with, and I made sure to keep the outcome in mind. I’d spent years studying not only real estate, but business as well. I knew the market, and what to do to ensure the deal would be in my favor. It was more than just pointing out the flaws and reasons other people wouldn’t want to buy something. It also came down to knowing the seller, understanding
their
weaknesses, and playing on
their
desperation. I kept my finger on the pulse of the city and knew when properties were going to be put on the market. My job was to pounce on them before that happened. There was a reason I hadn’t come back to New York straight out of college. I had to hone in my skill, perfect it. If I could grow my bank account as fast as I did somewhere else, then I had no doubt I could take the Big Apple by storm—and the family.

The good thing about having an established financial portfolio, and impeccable credit, was that it’d keep the feds off my ass when making purchases such as this building. With my last name, they’d be gunning for me and digging into my accounts. But coming in with a heavy checkbook and an established business, they couldn’t do shit.

The moment I laid eyes on this building, I knew it would be mine, and I loved how my wife felt the same way. I was told the architect drew inspiration from French Gothic chateaux, with its spiky domes capped with finials, red tiled roof, and an imposing entranceway of successively smaller arches leading into the grand lobby. Additional arches, adding to the unique historic appeal, crowned the large windows that walled my office, which sat on the forty-eighth floor and offered a flawless view of the city.

I turned away from the window and caught Jordana assisting Layla on our company’s very first closing. Jordana was our company’s accountant, and proved to be a fine gem at what she did. Although, I never had any doubt she’d be good, she exceeded my expectations. Even from afar, I’d kept a close eye on her, and the moment I found out about her schooling in finance, I knew it was destiny. She had a knack for securing banks, and getting them to sign on with ease. And I knew without a doubt that Layla’s expertise in real estate law would be beneficial. I had known that since college, it just came down to planning the right time to take her up on her offer to work together. She was one of my oldest friends, and this had been something we’d discussed long ago. Thankfully, after Jordana’s initial meeting of Layla, they now worked seamlessly together, and were a formidable duo. Making the three of us unstoppable.

My wife glanced up at me, catching me gawking at her, but I was too fixated on her lush curves to speak. Instead, I felt a smile take over my face. I couldn’t believe that it’d been almost fifteen years ago that I’d laid eyes on her for the first time, and now, I could look at her anytime I wanted. If only she knew that it was because of
her
that I’d done all this. But I’d never tell her that—she already held too much power over me as it was, and I didn’t need her to think she had any more. But it was the truth. I’d gone off to school to make something of myself. I wanted to offer her something more than the soldiers that surrounded her ever could. When she’d started dealing with Gene’s clubs and bars, I knew she’d never get out of the family business, becoming some Guido’s wife. And she deserved far more than being some barefoot, knocked-up housewife. It went against tradition to have your wife in the business, but as Carlo said, these are new times. And in these times—
my
times—she’d be by my side the entire way. Knocked up and in those fuck-me heels I couldn’t get enough of.

I walked over to where she sat on the couch with Layla, and pulled her out of her seat. “I must be the luckiest bastard on God’s green earth,” I said taking her hands in mine. Fuck…I couldn’t get enough of her. She was gorgeous, and all mine.

Jordana gave me her classic and snarky eye-roll, the one I’d never grow tired of. “Please…you’re so full of it.”

“Am I? Or am I thankful that I get to take you to bed each night and work with you every day?” My pride was fierce and showed itself in my possessive words. No fucking way would I be able to stand her working anywhere else. For anyone else. Her new sexy corporate wardrobe added a whole other level to her sex appeal, and I could barely restrain myself from taking her in front of company.

Layla stood and said, “I’ll give you two a moment…again. But don’t take too long this time. We have work to do.”

I heard her exit the room, but couldn’t take my eyes off my wife or the ghost of a smile that touched her lips. Her gloss caught my attention and had me blind to anything going on around us. “Come here,” I said, pulling her until the front of her body was flush with mine.

I spun her around and then easily lifted her body, gently placing her on the edge of my desk. With my body between her legs, I took a small step back, paying close attention to her curves.

“What are you doing? We’re supposed to be working.” She tried to sound stern, but it didn’t work. The soft laughter in her words gave her teasing nature away.

“You know how much I love these skirts you wear,” I whispered as my fingers crawled up thighs, loving the way they blended with her olive-colored skin.

Her new affinity for Krav Maga showed in her defined calves, and seeing them made me remember how much I enjoy the way they feel when I push into her. After her first class, I didn’t think she’d go back. I knew it would help her feel more secure and safe, but with everything going on in our lives at the time, she didn’t seem very interested in keeping up with it. Only after the secrets were out and the family became aware of Carlo’s plan did she go back to the gym. And I couldn’t have been happier about that decision.

“Yep, you tell me every day,” she answered confidently.

“I’m not sure I can wait until tonight Tesoro.” I moved into her and pressed my hard cock along her thigh. “You see what you do to me? How hard I am for you always? You wouldn’t want me to suffer all day…would you?” I skimmed my nose along her neck, placing kisses on her exposed skin. “You’re killing me.”

“You’re impossible. You know that? We’re supposed to be co-workers during the day,” she said breathlessly, placing her hands on my chest as she tried—and failed—to put distance between us.

“Impossibly in love with you. Besides, we’re newlyweds. People understand.” I continued my assault on her neck, moving down to my favorite spot—her collarbone. I’ll never know what it is about that one spot, but I’d never get enough of it. The saltiness of her skin laced with her vanilla-scented body wash, exploding on my tongue. “Hmm, I love the way you taste.”

She expelled a loud sigh and rocked into my cock. “Who’s killing who now? You’ve explored me thoroughly this morning. Wasn’t it you that said it’s all about anticipation?” She cocked her head and carefully watched my expression.

“Fuck anticipation. It’s overrated.” I seized her lips before another glib comment left her lips. She opened for me and I took full possession of her mouth. Her hungry response fed more blood to my cock, making it insufferably hard. What I wouldn’t give to have her pinned beneath me, her thighs parted wide.
God, I loved her so much
. The thought ran through me as I rolled my hips.

Her small hands pushed against my chest again, breaking our kiss. Her face flushed beautifully as she said, “You really suck. You know that? I was in the middle of a meeting with Layla, and now I’m all horny.” She glared at me, but her smile wouldn’t falter. I helped her off the desk and groaned as she righted her clothes. “And shouldn’t you be preparing for tonight’s business dealings?”

I did have business to take care of. However, it wasn’t associated with this company. A certain thorn in my side would be meeting his fate before midnight. She didn’t need to know or worry about the details, but she was a smart girl—I’m sure she knew enough without having the conversation. It was between me and that prick fuck. The last thing I wanted was my wife getting caught in the crossfire by knowing too much. Some battles weren’t hers to fight.

“Yes, but I will be home in time to have a night-cap and tuck you in.”

“And I do love the way you tuck me in, or should I say…the way you tuck yourself into me?”

“You fit me so well. What’s not to love? The way your pussy grips my cock like we’ll never be together again…unwilling to release me until I’ve fully surrendered to it. How it drips, waiting for my touch?” Her sharp inhale was my cue. She loved dirty talk.

“You do have a way with compliments, lover. Lucky for you…that filthy mouth of yours will be put to good use later.” She wagged her eyebrows at me.

Before I could respond, two knocks echoed off the wood door, and from behind it, we heard Layla asking, “Are you two done yet?” Jordana slapped my chest with a laugh and went back to the couch where she’d been in the middle of looking over a file, calling out, “It’s safe.”

Layla rolled her eyes as she walked in, but wouldn’t look my way. Instead, she found her seat again and resumed business as if it hadn’t been interrupted by my hard on.

I steeled myself and walked over to my desk where I adjusted my erection.

The rest of the day passed swiftly and uneventfully, but my nerves were on edge. I was amped up, and as much as I wanted this day to be over and behind me, I also wanted to savor it…

I waited until the office was empty before changing into a pair of black jeans, an all black hoodie, ball cap, and a pair of black steel-toed work boots. The plan was set. Antonio thought he was meeting some dude looking to score some blow. They normally met on the street in some dark alleyway, so it was a perfect setup. Instead of meeting with his buyer, he’d meet the barrel of my gun. I ducked out of my building, hailing the first cab curbside.

“Where to?” the dark-skinned cab driver sporting thick glasses asked.

“Mulberry Street,” I answered curtly. I didn’t want to engage in a conversation with the man.

He looked into the rearview mirror, meeting my eyes. “Mulberry and where?”

“Just anywhere on Mulberry,” I firmly responded.

“No problem.” He nodded as the engine roared to life.

He ended up dropping me in front of Casa Bella—one of Little Italy’s gems, and a favorite of mine and Jordana’s. I looked around the streetscape in awe. The ancient streets were bustling with people. An old lady dressed in black hauled a few bags in a steel-wheeled stroller. Tourists covered the streets, sightseeing and souvenir shopping. Some would’ve been turned off by the amount of people and possible witnesses. However, I couldn’t have painted a more perfect picture. The shadows of couples as they danced across the cobblestone streets would provide a perfect canvas to Antonio’s execution. And the sounds would drown out any noise we made.

I turned down the alleyway and waited for him. He showed up fifteen minutes late, mumbling to himself as he swayed, occasionally stopping to take a mouthful from the wine bottle in his hand. He stopped halfway down the alley, just shy of two yards away from me, and raised the bottle to his mouth again before stumbling the rest of the way toward me. Alchy-prick-motherfucker. Once he reached me, I pulled down my hood so he could clearly see my face. I wanted him to see my face, remember my eyes. I wanted him to hear my words before he took his last breath.