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CHAPTER 7: GIOVANNI FUCKING SOKOLOV
Last Updated:
2025-03-23 08:06:00
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GIOVANNI'S POV The humid air of the basement clung to me like a second skin, thick with the scent of mildew and something metallic – blood, filled my nostrils. I took a slow drag from my cigarette, the cherry glowing menacingly in the dim light. I usually didn't frequent this part of the estate. It was reserved for… unpleasantries. But tonight, the basement felt almost festive, charged with the kind of anticipation that crackled just beneath the surface. Tonight, I was finally going to meet Tristan Hayes, the man who had dared to entertain my fiancée, the man they called Titan.Dmitri, his loyal, if somewhat brutish, heart, had finally delivered. He slid the file across my desk earlier, a thin dossier containing the details of the ghost who haunted my waking thoughts. Tristan Hayes. Surgeon, Stripper. Apparently, possessed of a physique that could make a saint forget his vows. Ironic, considering the vows my fiancee apparently forgot. The rage had been building for weeks, simmering
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TRISTAN'S POV The leather seats of Dmitri’s car practically vibrated beneath me. My head was spinning, not from the speed, but from the sheer absurdity of my new reality. One minute I was scraping by in my little apartment, the next I was being chauffeured to a goddamn mansion."Do you have any suggestions on how I can survive living in the mansion?" I finally choked out, the question hanging in the tense air between us.Dmitri, barely glanced at me. "We survive by doing our job well. Avoid making mistakes. But you aren’t here to be a Soldato. You’re there to be Giovanni's… plaything. Your job is to keep the boss satisfied. Consider yourself lucky. Many men and women would kill to be in your position."Lucky? I scoffed inwardly. I was about as lucky as a lamb being led to slaughter. But I kept my mouth shut. Dmitri clearly wasn’t in the mood for my existential crisis."Does Giovanni ask all his… playthings… to live with him in the mansion?" The question slipped out before I could st
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GIOVANNI'S POV The plush velvet of the couch did little to comfort me. Two women were draped on either side, the weight of their touch, once a familiar comfort, felt like a foreign imposition. Their hands exploring paths they knew well – unbuttoning my shirt, caressing my chest, teasing at my crotch. Women I handpicked, women who, in the past, would have ignited a fire within me. Tonight, they felt like nothing. Less than nothing.It all started in the basement. Tristan. Gods, even his name sent a jolt through me. Ever since Tristan… something shifted. Down there, in my gut, in my head. The way he squirmed in my touch at the basement, the desperate gasps that escaped his lips as I pushed him closer and closer to the edge… the primal sound of his pleasure as I’d filled him. That was real. This… this felt like a performance.I glanced at my watch. An hour. An hour since I’d sent Dmitri to help Tristan pack his things – his things – from that pathetic little apartment he called home. Th
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GIOVANNI'S POV The front door opened, and Tristan stepped inside. He looked immaculate, innocent and pure contrary to disheveled state I imagined after his fuck session with Dmitri. He wears an all white outfit and clearly fresh from bath, his cheeks flushed. My blood simmered, a toxic brew of rage and raw jealousy. He looked like an angel, untouched, innocent. The contrast between that image and the lewd thoughts that instantly flooded my mind was almost unbearable. My cock throbbed, hard and insistent, a stark reminder of needs that two perfectly willing women a while ago had failed to even stir. Their hands on me, their whispers, had been nothing. But Tristan, just standing there, radiating a false purity, ignited me like a match to gasoline. A guttural sound escaped my throat, a sound that even startled me. "Tristan, thank you for that thing in your apartment. I enjoyed it." Fucking Dmitri said to Tristan. I'll settle my score on him next time. Tristan blinked, looking mo
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GIOVANNI'S POV "No! Giovanni, you have to believe me. I would never…" He choked on the words, tears welling in his eyes. "Never what, Tristan? Never betray me? Never whore yourself out to the first man who looks your way?" The venom in my voice was corrosive, and I saw him flinch. Good. He deserved it. "Look at me, Tristan. Tell me to my face that you didn't let him touch you. Tell me, and maybe… just maybe… I'll consider believing in you." "Please, I really didn't..." he pleaded. "Liar," I hissed, releasing his chin and standing up. I turned my back on him again, needing to control the urge to strike him. "You disgust me." I said with venom. I set the flogger aside as I crossed to my dresser, pulling open the top drawer. The leather whips lay coiled within, gleaming darkly in the dim light. I selected one, the thickest one, the one I rarely used. The one that left the most lasting impression. He gasped as I turned back to him, the whip held loosely in my hand. He knew what wa
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TRISTAN'S POVThe morning sunlight assaulted my eyes, spearing through the gap in the heavy drapes. My whole body screamed in protest, a chorus of throbbing aches and sharp stabs. "Arggggg," I groaned, the sound muffled by the unfamiliar silk sheets.Panic clawed at me. Where was I? The room was opulent, decorated in shades of grey and silver, a stark contrast to my cramped apartment. Then, like a brutal slap, memory flooded back. Giovanni.This was his room."Arggggg," I hissed again, involuntarily curling into myself. My fingers grazed the raw, tender skin of my back, mapping the landscape of bruises and cuts. Each one is a testament to Giovanni's brutal passion. Or was it just brutality? I couldn't tell anymore.The sound of rushing water filled the silence. Giovanni. My breath hitched. He was here. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. The shower stopped, and I braced myself, every muscle tense.The bathroom door opened, and there he was. Giovann
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GIOVANNI'S POVThe leather seat of my armored SUV felt too smooth against my skin. Usually, the weight of responsibility, the anticipation of strategy sessions with my Bratva brothers, filled my head. Today, however, my thoughts were a tangled mess, all revolving around Tristan.Damn him.Last night had been... a controlled demolition. I punished him, yes, for the transgression he committed – I couldn't even remember the exact slight, the justification felt flimsy even to me. But the punishment… it had been as much for me as it was for him. A release, a claiming. A twisted, possessive act of control.And the worst part? I craved it. I craved him.The memory of his soft skin beneath my hands, the way he trembled at my touch, the defiance that flickered in his eyes before being drowned out by... something else. Something that echoed the dark desire that churned within me. It was intoxicating. It was dangerous.I nearly lost control. I have been on the razor's edge of needing to possess
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GIOVANNI'S POV "No! Giovanni, you have to believe me. I would never…" He choked on the words, tears welling in his eyes. "Never what, Tristan? Never betray me? Never whore yourself out to the first man who looks your way?" The venom in my voice was corrosive, and I saw him flinch. Good. He deserved it. "Look at me, Tristan. Tell me to my face that you didn't let him touch you. Tell me, and maybe… just maybe… I'll consider believing in you." "Please, I really didn't..." he pleaded. "Liar," I hissed, releasing his chin and standing up. I turned my back on him again, needing to control the urge to strike him. "You disgust me." I said with venom. I set the flogger aside as I crossed to my dresser, pulling open the top drawer. The leather whips lay coiled within, gleaming darkly in the dim light. I selected one, the thickest one, the one I rarely used. The one that left the most lasting impression. He gasped as I turned back to him, the whip held loosely in my hand. He knew what wa
Mafia's Unexpected Prized Possession CHAPTER 13: HE'S IN BIG TROUBLE
GIOVANNI'S POV The front door opened, and Tristan stepped inside. He looked immaculate, innocent and pure contrary to disheveled state I imagined after his fuck session with Dmitri. He wears an all white outfit and clearly fresh from bath, his cheeks flushed. My blood simmered, a toxic brew of rage and raw jealousy. He looked like an angel, untouched, innocent. The contrast between that image and the lewd thoughts that instantly flooded my mind was almost unbearable. My cock throbbed, hard and insistent, a stark reminder of needs that two perfectly willing women a while ago had failed to even stir. Their hands on me, their whispers, had been nothing. But Tristan, just standing there, radiating a false purity, ignited me like a match to gasoline. A guttural sound escaped my throat, a sound that even startled me. "Tristan, thank you for that thing in your apartment. I enjoyed it." Fucking Dmitri said to Tristan. I'll settle my score on him next time. Tristan blinked, looking mo
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GIOVANNI'S POV The plush velvet of the couch did little to comfort me. Two women were draped on either side, the weight of their touch, once a familiar comfort, felt like a foreign imposition. Their hands exploring paths they knew well – unbuttoning my shirt, caressing my chest, teasing at my crotch. Women I handpicked, women who, in the past, would have ignited a fire within me. Tonight, they felt like nothing. Less than nothing.It all started in the basement. Tristan. Gods, even his name sent a jolt through me. Ever since Tristan… something shifted. Down there, in my gut, in my head. The way he squirmed in my touch at the basement, the desperate gasps that escaped his lips as I pushed him closer and closer to the edge… the primal sound of his pleasure as I’d filled him. That was real. This… this felt like a performance.I glanced at my watch. An hour. An hour since I’d sent Dmitri to help Tristan pack his things – his things – from that pathetic little apartment he called home. Th
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TRISTAN'S POV The leather seats of Dmitri’s car practically vibrated beneath me. My head was spinning, not from the speed, but from the sheer absurdity of my new reality. One minute I was scraping by in my little apartment, the next I was being chauffeured to a goddamn mansion."Do you have any suggestions on how I can survive living in the mansion?" I finally choked out, the question hanging in the tense air between us.Dmitri, barely glanced at me. "We survive by doing our job well. Avoid making mistakes. But you aren’t here to be a Soldato. You’re there to be Giovanni's… plaything. Your job is to keep the boss satisfied. Consider yourself lucky. Many men and women would kill to be in your position."Lucky? I scoffed inwardly. I was about as lucky as a lamb being led to slaughter. But I kept my mouth shut. Dmitri clearly wasn’t in the mood for my existential crisis."Does Giovanni ask all his… playthings… to live with him in the mansion?" The question slipped out before I could st
