Page 11 of The Mastermind
Sore losers being sore. Nothing to worry about. Promise.
I held my breath, hoping she’d drop it. She didn’t answer for several minutes. Then another dreaded ping arrived. Grimacing, I read it.
Cool. Thinking I’ll join you in Azerbaijan. Thoughts?
She was testing me, feeling me out. Probably on Bonafacio’s orders?
I’d known since I could walk and talk that my father, uncle and the smattering of cousins all jumped to my grandfather’sbidding, but I’d believed I stood between my siblings and Bonafacio’s absolute control of their lives.
Lately, with Sofiya’s activities and secrets, I wasn’t so sure I’d succeeded.
Telling her to stay away would have been as good as shouting from the rooftops that something was going on. Having her come would be asking for another set of eyes on a situation I wasn’t sure was a problem yet. And if Sofiya thought Narciso was under threat from the Salvatores, who the hell knew how she would react?
I paced my hotel room, pressure building behind my eyes as I considered my response.
I had two weeks before the next race. I could go home, head her off at the pass. But… she was a resource I may well need by then, if I hadn’t gotten to the bottom of things myself. With a sigh, I surrendered to the inevitable.
Sure, it’d be good to see you. x
I watched the speech bubble pulse for five seconds, then disappear.
Shaking my head, I tossed my phone on the bed, then finally allowed myself to replay my conversation with Cesare.
I was 99 per cent sure his trigger finger was itching for retribution after losing the race to us.
Buthe’d seemed dead certain of his allegation. And as much as I was unwilling to admit it, I came from a family who stopped at nothing to win.
It didn’t even hurt that the men in my family would go over my head as the official Mancinelli family’s consigliere to make a damning decision to bribe our way into a championship. The end result was the only thing that mattered, especially when pitted against the Salvatores.
I stepped beneath the shower, Cesare’s threat ringing in my ears.
But then, in my vivid imagination, the tenor of his voice changed, his meaning taking on a different, more sensual timbre.
I’ll make your life hell for the rest of the season. And that will be just the start.
My nipples pebbled under the cascading water, the promise of more forbidden interactions with the Underboss of the Salvatore Organisation sending ripples of danger-edged delight through me. Bracing one hand on the wall, I squeezed my eyes shut as the other hand slid down my belly to the hot, pulsating place between my legs.
I moaned when I breached my puffy lips, unsurprised to feel myself already wet and slippery. My shaky gasp blended into the hiss of water as I toyed with my over-sensitised clit.
The shape of his mouth, the sensation of his breath on my neck, the glorious headiness of his scent. The promise of fury and shattered control in his eyes.
And always… always…that kiss.
The one that had set us on a path to hell. A taste of the forbidden blended perfectly with danger.
All it took was remembering the feel of his Salvatore mouth on my Mancinelli lips, his outlawed tongue sweeping in to stroke mine, my middle finger sliding deep into my pussy, and I was unravelling.
My choked moans filled the shower as I came hard enough to feel my heartbeat pound in my ears. To accept that I was still, all these years later, hopelessly addicted to Cesare Salvatore. To the last man on earth I should be thinking about, never mind lusting after.
The enemy heir who could spark a war with a snap of his fingers.
4
MADDELENA
The Past
‘Ciara, I’m really not sure about this,’ I whispered as my best friend dragged me towards the barn-like building in the middle of nowhere.
