Three

LORENZO

The man screamed, a delightful sound to me. I smirked as the sound of bones crunching filled my ears, and I pressed my boot down even harder on his hand.

“Please! DON PLEASE!!”

Please.

Always with that damn word.

I always saw begging as a sign of weakness, and it infuriated me to have my traitor of a henchman say that word to me. As if saying please fucking solved anything.

“Where’s my money, Fabian? I will not ask again. You KNOW how I operate, you maggot,” I calmly intoned, my words punctuated with another stomp of his hands. His bones were all broken by now, maybe except his skull and spine.

He could hardly move and his moans came out garbled as I gave him a kick to the stomach.

“Please… please…” the man whispered, shaking from head to toe as he bled out.

‘Please,’ Talia’s voice was loud in my head.

I stilled, my mind drawn to the memories of two nights ago.

That girl.

Talia.

I hadn’t expected her to be so intriguing or to distract me so much. It had been two days since I had handed her over to Gio and went on my way. I had already instructed Gio to take care of her, and I trusted his word that he would.

But why did I want to check for myself? Women weren’t ever a problem to me before.

That girl…

My lips curled up in a smirk.

I couldn’t tell if I wanted to fuck her, or kill her.

Or both.

“Lorenzo.”

Matteo’s voice came up behind me and I heard his footsteps approach. Without turning around I held my right hand out and was handed a handkerchief, which I used to wipe my hands that had some streaks of blood on it.

“Damn it, you really did a fucking number on him,” Matteo, my second in command aka my best friend, whistled. “You should have left the interrogations to me. You’re too tense, Don.”

I could tell where this conversation was heading: soon he would suggest I step aside and let him handle everything to do with captives, and to focus on the other parts of running the mafia. Matteo knew me well just as I knew him. We had been friends since we were 10, after all.

“Spare me the theatrics, Matteo.” I tossed the handkerchief to him which he caught effortlessly. “And you can handle the rest of it. I have better things to do.”

His eyes followed me, and I knew he was gaping at how easily he could convince me to not kill our captives. I loathed taking Matteo’s advice but sometimes it was needed. Like now. Now, I had something to distract me, and I was willing to let him have his way.

I quickly got back to my bedroom and jumped into the shower, letting the scalding water and soap wash away the scent of blood from my body.

Within an hour I was dressed and headed to Dark Eden, my underground club where exclusive VIP clients were serviced by men and women under my employ.

The club was not very full, I observed as soon as I walked through one of the many entrances hidden in the basement of a nondescript wine shop.

I noticed Giovanni’s office door closed and knew he likely was balls deep inside one of his favorite girls in the club, Chelsea Manning - who used to work as a lifeguard in Florida. I cared not for his relationship with one of my girls, as long as that girl wasn’t Talia.

Where WAS she?

Ignoring the bows and greetings as I walked deeper into the club, I continued to search for the girl that was so intriguing she distracted me from my favorite task of making traitors suffer.

“Let me go!” I heard a scream to my right and instantly I recognized the voice.

“Come on girl. You don’t have to act so innocent,” the man I recognized as a VIP client leered at Talia who leaned away from him. I took in the scene in a split second: his arms wound tightly around her waist with one hand teasing at the lace strap of her thong, her struggling against him.

I saw red.

And I acted.

Seconds later, Talia was in my arms, and the man on the floor.

“Fuck! What the hell man?!” The client yelled, clutching his bloody nose and on his knees. He tried to get up but a gesture from me had two men beside him, pressing down on his shoulder and forcing him back to his knees.

“Don!” My ears perked up at the sound of Gio rushing from his office. He appeared flustered, and with good reason.

I leveled a glare at him and he bowed, looking ashamed.

“I believe I made myself clear that night, Giovanni. Talia is not to be touched,” I stated. “And yet this scum decided to do just that. What do you think I should do to him?”

Giovanni looked like a deer in headlights. The client paled.

“B-But, I didn’t know.” The man insisted, grunting in pain as he was held down. He looked terrified once he realized who I was. I knew that my reputation precedes me. Lorenzo Gallieni, the Don with over a hundred kills to his name. Among my many accomplishments, I had shown no mercy in taking over this city.

And I would show none in dealing with this one.

“L-Lorenzo,” Talia was shivering in my arms, trembling from fear. It irked me that she did that, yet I couldn’t find it within myself to hate her for it. I despised weakness normally, but she was different.

“Take him out. I’ll deal with him myself,” I ordered the two men who obeyed instantly. Everyone in the club watched as the man screamed for help, none lifting a finger to do so.

“Carry on,” I told the rest of the patrons and staff who looked at me with varying expressions of nervousness, fear and respect.

The order echoed in the air and they all looked away in response, pretending like I hadn’t just done what I did.

I let out a long sigh and moved to sit down exactly where that client had, taking a good look at Talia for the first time.

She wore a lacy black lingerie set, and I could see the dark areola of her breasts peeking through the skimpy lace. Her body did look enticing and my lust stirred.

I suppose fucking her wasn’t out of the option, I thought.

Spreading my legs, I leaned back on the chair and motioned to her.

“Go on then,” I ordered.

“W-what do you want?” She looked wide eyed at me.

“Serve me. Show me how well you dance, Talia.”