Ruthless (The Clans Book 8) Read online

Page 12


  My fingers slide down to my navel and then slow down, creeping ever so slightly downward until they reach my folds. I pause, just resting my hand on myself as I look into his eyes. I see the lust there, but he makes no move to come towards me. He is either enjoying the show too much to top me right now, or he is unphased. Though I doubt it's the latter.

  I use my pointer finger to find my clit, moaning softly as I make small circles around it, exaggerating each movement and sensation for him as I use my other hand to tweak at each of my pert nipples. I want him to think of everything he is missing by not touching me right now, and if he makes a move, I have yet to decide if I am going to allow him to touch me. I might just finish myself and make him wait and suffer.

  I feel myself getting wetter, so I snake two fingers down to my entrance and spread my legs a little before diving in delicately and feeling around inside for what sparks my nerve endings. I let out a full-on moan, my breathing picking up as I pump my finger in and out. I close my eyes and throw my head back, my right hand cupping my breast and massaging it. I am so into the act that I don't realize when he has gotten up or the fact that he has dropped his pants.

  I find myself being bent over the edge of the bed, and I decide to let it go, smiling at the prospect of being taken like this the night before our wedding. He pulls my hips up as I hold myself up by my elbows, and then he plunges in. No foreplay, no trying to be gentle like he usually does. And this is how I love it.

  Chapter 24

  Luna

  I look at myself in the mirror, thinking I am ready to perfection and then catch a clump of pink lipstick in the corner of my mouth. I open my mouth and pick at it with my matching manicured pinky nail in frustration. Nothing can be out of place today because today is an important day. The most important day.

  Today is the day I get rid of that Carla bitch for good so that Philippe and I can finally go off into the sunset along with our baby I carry in my womb right now. I know it is what he wants, and he is just too afraid to admit it because of what this marriage means to his parents and the whole of the Clans.

  He thinks I don’t understand how any of this shit works because I am only a secretary. Or, I was. But I am still on duty for today even if I haven’t seen much of him since that crazy controlling whore put me against the wall in a chokehold because I am integral to making sure his wedding goes off without a hitch.

  And in that, I mean to make sure he doesn’t get hitched today. At least not to Carla. But I wouldn’t be opposed to him running off with me to elope. His family would come around eventually once they realized I was carrying the next Clan heir. Plus, the fact that I am a legitimate Romanian girl and Carla isn’t. I am better for him anyway. I can’t wait to finally reveal my real name to him, I think Philippe will be even happier than he already would be with me knowing that my family used to be part of the Clans, and so I can give him the respectable union he wants. And my Daddy will see his name restored before he kicks the bucket.

  Most of all, fuckin' Greta will be off my back and let me live happily ever after with my prince charming. She's just a sad, angry bitch who doesn’t get it, and that’s okay. That’s why she does the dirty work. All I have to do is make sure that the love of my life never makes it to that church today. All the problems will be solved by morning.

  I turn to the side in my black and red dress, my hand sliding over the product of my love for Philippe and smile. I didn’t expect to be so obviously showing so soon, but that’s okay. It means I didn’t have to prove anything to Philippe. the proof is right under my shirt, and he is welcome to double-check anytime he likes.

  I giggle at the joke I make in my head before slipping on my low heels just as a knock comes at the door. I don’t like that this place is so far from Philippe now, but it means a lot to me that it is so nice. I even have the nursery half set up already, though I can’t wait to get some opinions from Philippe on it. I am sure he will be here soon enough after all. Maybe this can be our hideout while he is trying to figure out how to get his family on board with our little family arrangement. I like that idea.

  I swing the door open to see a familiar man standing at the door...no, more like looming. Florin looks down at me, and a chill runs up my spine thinking about the night I had to give myself to him in a way in order to make sure I got what I wanted. It turned out to be almost useless too. I am so glad now that I have Philippe's child inside of me so he can’t touch me so much as look at me anymore. Philippe would have his head on a platter, I am sure of it. And it wouldn’t be the first time he had someone killed for messing around with someone he cares about it. He can be downright deadly, as he should be as a mafia prince.

  "Of course, it would be you to come and fetch me," I spit out at Florin. "I need to grab my purse." I reach for my clutch and go to walk out the door, but Florin blocks my way with his hulking form. "What the fuck is this about? We don’t have time for this. Philippe has places to be."

  "You sure you're not going to try and interfere with that place he needs to be?" Florin asks, and I hiss at him in annoyance. As soon as I become Philippe's wife, he will be the first staff member to go. I don’t care what I have to do, I am not dealing with him every day of my damn perfect life. "You need to stop messing with Philippe," he says after I say nothing else but try to just get around him.

  "You know it’s none of your fucking business," I tell him, staring him down until he remembers what I gave him to keep his mouth shut and help me out. Maybe he didn’t realize how far this would go, but what does he care who Philippe ends up with? Pssh, it wouldn’t surprise me if that whore is fucking him on the side or something. maybe that’s it.

  "It is my business when I don’t think that baby is his." he points to my rounded abdomen, and my eyes go wide at the suggestion I would be with anyone else. Here was a reason I only offered him the one hole. I had saved myself to be pure for Philippe so I could be a Sala and feel good about it. Much better about it than that Carla bitch.

  "It isn’t possible to be someone else's. Don’t you remember?"

  "Oh, I do. I fucked you in the ass and choked you until you went all loose on me. I didn’t realize you'd passed out until; I was already halfway done in your cunt. that baby could very well be mine," he gruffs out. My hand flies to my belly protectively. Is he lying?

  I shake my head. It doesn’t seem like he is, but it doesn’t fucking matter now. He is not ruining this for me. I have the perfect plan, and he is not going to fuck with it. "you know how this is going to look if you come out with this, right? It's going to look like you raped Philippe's future wife. Not to mention I am carrying his child as far as he is concerned and could tell him any old thing and he would believe me. If you want to keep that head of yours on that gigantic body, I suggest you shut the fuck up and help me with what I am doing or at least get out of the way."

  He shakes his head. "I can’t be a part of this."

  "Then don't."

  He moves out of my way and disappears down the road where he must have parked. He wasn’t here to collect me at all. The SUV that truly is here for me pulls up shortly after, and I am waiting for it. Philippe is already inside, and my heart leaps as I see him. And I swear I can feel the baby move at the sight of him too. Not too much longer now, and we will truly be a family.

  I direct the SUV like an expert where to go to pick up everything that is needed; the tux, the flowers, and I begin making calls to make sure that his family and friends are all where they should be. It had to look like this is real. And truly, it all is, all of it except the part where Philippe will be involved.

  Finally, that’s when my phone rings. It's Greta aka Galina, but Greta is the name that matters to Philippe. As far as he knows she is a crazy bitch selling drugs in his streets. And she is about to make this whole plan come together for both of us.

  "No, no, this is not the time. But it’s his wedding day..." I pretend to be distressed, looking between my lap and Philippe in distress. "I'll tell him. Thank
you so much."

  I turn to him with a frown. "What is it?" he asks.

  "But it’s your wedding day. I’m sure it can wait."

  "No, I want to know what that phone call was, Luna. Don’t fuck with me."

  "It is that crazy drug trafficker, Greta, she has got drugs being sold in town as we speak. One of your men called to tell me since they figured your phone was off for the wedding day."

  "Fuck."

  And just like that, I have him where I want him.

  Chapter 25

  Philippe

  I shouldn’t be fucking surprised that Greta and whoever the hell works for her would choose this day of all days to cause trouble in my city. She probably assumes that I will be so busy with the wedding that I won’t be around to fuck her up for this. Because while I have men to do some of my dirty work, this is a problem that requires me directly. Drugs in my city - hell no that’s not happening. I have worked hard to keep narcotics at bay so that the most vulnerable of the population won’t become even more so, not to mention the kind of crimes that tend to come along with the use of heavy drugs. Stealing money to keep paying for them or the things people do while high. I am not putting up with that shit. But I have my bride waiting for me, and I don’t want to leave her without a wedding.

  I know Carla, and I would lose her forever if I stood her up. But my first duty is to this city - the one that I call home and watch over for the Clans. This marriage means little if I let Munich go to hell.

  I look out the window and then back at Luna, a million curses going through my head as I know what I am going to have to do. I can be late. I can’t miss my wedding day, but I can afford to be a little late. I don’t think Carla is an exception to the rule that brides tend to be fashionably late anyway. It will give her longer to get ready without guests getting antsy that I am there, and she is not. Hopefully, I can snuff this out and get to the church in no time. "Okay, we are going to have to deal with this. I want to drop you off at my place first since we are closer. You do not need to be involved while pregnant, and I will need to get back up," I tell her. She looks down at her swollen belly and nods, gulping nervously.

  The two of us have not connected in any way since me finding out she is pregnant with a child she claims is mine, and I start to feel bad for it. I am sure that this all affects her in some way. I don’t want to marry her or be with her romantically, but I am sure it is hard to think of having a baby with someone who is getting married to a woman from a powerful family while being kept at a distance. Carla’s attitude can’t help either, though part of me knows she has every right to be angry. Her temper is just a little dangerous.

  "Thank you for your help," I tell her, and she looks up at me and flashes a smile. It feels uncomfortable but I feel I have done my good deed today. Maybe karma will be on my side in case of a shootout with this Czechoslovakian bitch and her dealers.

  We drive up to the house on my orders, and I help Luna into the house quickly, in case anyone is watching us or going to make sure that I can’t take care of this problem. When you’re a mafia Clan leader, you learn to be paranoid about anything and everything.

  I make sure to get her settled with everything she needs before I go to my security team and let them know what's happening, that I need as many as possible with me and just a couple to stay behind and make sure Luna and the baby are safe. Though, I doubt once I am out and headed for downtown that anyone will try to attack my house. It wouldn’t do them any good. These people go after blood, not money, even if it seems to be about money on the surface.

  My men take off in several cars while another waits outside. I tell two of my men to just check in on Luna every once in a while and keep a lookout outside before going and grabbing more bullets and another Glock out of my stash. I get the feeling I am going to need it. But as I turn on my heel to leave the confines of my closet, I see Luna standing right in front of me, much too close, a large vase in her hand. That is the last thing I know before a shattering sound leads to my vision going black.

  ***

  I wake up on the floor with a bad headache almost like a hangover, but it’s sharper than that. My hand flies to my head, and I gasp at the feeling of the lump that's there, likely from whatever the hell was used to knock me out.

  Apparently, I have been paranoid about the wrong things. I hope that I am wrong, though, as I think of other possibilities. I have heard of women getting pregnant and the hormones making them crazy especially if they already have underlying conditions. If that’s the case, the baby could be in danger. But there is a part of me that thinks back to Carla’s dislike of her and her prompting for me to force Luna to get a paternity test done. Plus, the fact that I don’t even remember having sex with her, so even if it happened, I clearly could not have consented in my drunken state. I have just been blinded by the fact that I want to be a good man and do right by my child and the mother who is seeing to it that the child makes it into this world safely.

  I force myself off the floor and lean against the wall to get my bearings. I probably have a concussion. It wouldn’t be the first one, but I know it can make me disoriented and in a lot of pain for doing anything. And the drug threat could still be real, not to mention my wedding. I need to be able to make it out of here.

  I slowly make my way to the bedroom door and find it closed but not locked. Hopefully, I was knocked out to slow me down and not so much to keep me hostage. I feel for the gun I had picked up and the bullets to find they are gone, but when I follow my pant leg down, the one I have hidden there from before is still there. It is small and only has one round of bullets, but it could be enough to get me out of a sticky situation.

  I go slowly, looking every which way as I make my way through my own house, suddenly feeling like it is Halloween and I am expecting ghosts and goblins to step out and scream at me. I have never thought I would be a hostage or attacked in my own house. It has happened to a few Clan members before, but nothing here in Munich. I have been relatively lucky when it comes to my safety, or maybe I am just that fucking good at keeping things under lock here. Now, whatever Luna is up to is ruining that spotless record for me.

  I make it to the front door without incident, which also worries me about the state of the guards I had left to take care of Luna or the car that is waiting for me outside. Is it even waiting anymore? I have no way of knowing how long it has been since I was knocked out. I paid no attention to a clock when we got back here and do not intend on straining my painful vision to find out what time it is now. I just need to get to the church and get married. Then, I can worry about the rest. I never should have been so hyped up about the drugs. I can go after Greta and sweep the streets clean after I say I do.

  I wiggle the handle to get out and notice that I have been locked out. A new handle sits on the door. How did Luna have enough time and know-how to change the locks like this? And the key lock is on the inside, so I can’t go anywhere. Not unless I can climb out a window and survive the drop, which I am not risking with my head in this shape. I am better off busting through the door.

  Feeling for my hidden gun again, I pull it out, glad that I have been a little cocky, to the point I have never put in bulletproof doors and locks. I have to pray there are enough bullets to either blow out the lock or blow a hole through the door so as to ruin the integrity.

  I begin to shoot, each bang ripping through my skull with an excruciating pain.

  Chapter 26

  Carla

  I don’t want to be one of those dainty bitches that takes so damn long on her perfect appearance and her sweat and nerves that she is late to her own wedding, but that’s what this is shaping up to be as I roll my eyes at my reflection, my hair in curlers. They have only been in for five minutes, and it feels like forever. My mother and Aria both have been in here worrying over me and helping me get ready, but I keep sending them away in favor of Nicola even though they hate her guts. They don’t think she and Phoebe should be out or that they conduct them
selves like proper Italian women. Who gives a fuck? What I need is calm and collected on my wedding day, and Nicola can give me that.

  A knock comes at the door, and I glare at it as if lasers might come out of my eyes. Maybe they will. I don’t fuckin know. I have never felt so irritated before with a simple event. This is a show pretty much after all. I thought I would like the attention, but none of it is as positive as I thought it would be. But it might be different once I walk out there to Philippe. I haven’t told him that four-letter word yet, but I think it’s coming. It’s at the top of my throat like bile.

  Nicola goes to the door, looking ready to knock a bitch out if it’s someone uninvited, but it turns out to be Sal. Not someone I was expecting, but that’s alright. If it were up to me it would be him giving me away today and not my father anyway. he is the only real blood family I have as far as I am concerned and the only one I am going to keep up with once I am Philippe’s wife.

  He runs his hand through his thick black hair, and I know he is stressed about something. "Rovesciarlo!" I tell him, wanting him to spit it out. I stand up, my heart beating fast. This is my wedding day, and damn anyone to hell if they are trying to ruin it.

  "Carla, you should know that Philippe has never shown up. He’s not here."

  "What the fuck do you mean he is not here?" I screech, my nails digging into the vanity in front of me so that they will leave a permanent mark. "Get me Florin. Whether he is here or not, I want to speak with him in here immediately!" I order. Sal doesn’t even flinch, just nods and turns on his heel to find Philippe’s right-hand man. This whole thing wreaks of a conspiracy, and I am not having it. I know the Clans have made many enemies, and those enemies cannot be happy about this union that makes the Clans even more fucking powerful. Philippe could be in any situation, but the one thing I know, looking down at my ring, is he didn’t stand me up. This marriage was something he wanted. He begged and worked hard for this to be real and not some sham, so no way in hell would he be the one to get cold feet.

 

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