A Touch of Sin |18+|

05

VALERIO

"What took you so long?" mama asked, raising her gaze from the laminated menu in her hand.

I unbuttoned my suit jacket, joining them at the table after I had abruptly excused myself. I missed my parents, but the last thing I wanted to do was spend the night having dinner with them in a fine dining restaurant. I had work to do—and a woman occupying my thoughts.

As I sat down, I was still thinking about Alani. It was good to see her. Unbelievably good.

As soon as my eyes landed on her, all the memories of our night together came flooding in. Her pussy around me—her sweat laced skin and the taste of her. Fuck, I knew what she tasted like, and I wanted to taste it again. And again.

Three fucking months later and I was still hooked.

And then I saw the fucker she was with and my mood soured significantly. I had absolutely no reason to feel any sort of jealousy, but there I was—wishing that I was on the date with her like some captivated idiot. I might have been a captivated idiot—but I wanted to get to know Alani in more ways than one.

Perhaps I was hooked because she left in the morning, leaving me with nothing but the memory of her and no way of contacting her.

"I'm sorry, mama. I ran into someone I know," I said, rolling my neck to relieve the tension that was suddenly there.

From the look on my mother's face, I could tell that she didn't believe me even though it wasn't technically a lie. My father, on the other hand, seemed more invested in the meals the chefs were offering.

I shifted, fixing the gun on my waist to a more comfortable position. My mother noticed but said nothing because she was carrying her own weapon. My father too.

"Someone we know?" she asked, returning her attention to the menu. I did the same—even when my appetite craved for something far different from food.

"No," I answered.

"A woman?" she asked, giving me a sneaky side glance. This time, my father raised his head too and looked at me expectantly.

"Yes, a woman. But it doesn't mean anything," I said, putting the conversation to rest. If I hadn't added the last part, I was definitely going to be bombarded by an infinite amount of questions I had no interest in answering.

My mother grinned, lifting her shoulder in a small shrug. "I have to ask. If I don't ask, you'd never tell." I couldn't deny that. I had no desire to share anything about my sexual and personal life with my mother.

"Your mother is right," my father chimed in, setting the menu down on the white tablecloth. He looked around the restaurant before speaking again. "Ever since you took over, nothing seems to interest you besides running the business."

I could think of one thing that interests me.

"You have to balance it out," he continued. "Find something else to do besides working."

I wasn't in the mood for another lecture—far from it. Not when I had Alani in the same building, sitting opposite some blonde in her pretty dress. It wasn't hard to tell that she wasn't into him, but just the thought of it had me scowling at nothing.

As I opened my mouth to speak, a waitress approached our table. She introduced herself as Rosie, and also spent a few moments looking at me for too long.

When it was my turn to order, her eyes weren't on my face. My collar was unbuttoned and I left out the tie for tonight, leaving the ink on my neck completely bare and open to Rosie's view.

I placed my order, ignoring the blush tinting her cheeks. When I was done, she excused herself and stumbled away quicker than she arrived. As soon as she was gone, I gave my mother a look because I could already see the ideas whirling through her head.

"Mama. No," I deadpanned. She sighed, pursing her lips while she rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she huffed, turning to my dad. "Your son is stubborn."

"He's your son too," he said, frowning at her in offense. I exhaled, letting my back rest against the seat as I looked at the time on my watch.

"I know, my love. I know," she said, and I looked away just as they leaned in to kiss. I envied my parents relationship, despite their journey starting with a few turmoil's. They made it work, and I was the result of it.

My father was the son of an Italian-Lebanese mobster and my mother was a local who fell in love with someone she wasn't supposed to fall in love with.

I had heard the story a dozen times, but I let her explain every single time because I could tell that she was proud of making it that far. Even with my grandfather's death threats because he refused to let my father marry someone who 'had no ranking' – whatever the fuck that means.

Eventually, he died.

To this day, I still don't know if he was killed by the hands of my father, or if his death was natural. I had a feeling it was the former.

It wasn't long before dinner was over and after bidding my goodbyes, I headed to my car. My parents had arrived with their own car, and their own driver too.

Exiting the restaurant, I kept an eye out for Alani, but she was gone. I didn't know whether to be happy about that or not.

All I knew is that I wanted to see her again.

My phone rang, and I retrieved it from the inside of my jacket. The caller ID read Santino, my cousin and also my first hand. He was younger than me, less experienced but always willing to learn. He yearned to impress, and I valued that.

"Capo, Victor is at Queens," he said. I grinned—just what I needed.

"Do you have your eyes on him?" I asked, starting my car with a push of a button. I was frustrated, and letting off steam on someone's face seemed like a good idea. Victor owed me money—and not an amount that was deemed reasonable to wait out. It was small and I didn't care about it. I cared about the part where he was avoiding me.

"Si."

"Keep it that way," Usually I'd let one of my men handle it, but I wanted to get my hands dirty today. It had been a while.

"Okay, boss."

I ended the call, throwing my phone onto the passenger seat. I drove out of the parking, heading into the direction of Queens. It wasn't a long drive, and soon I was parked behind the club. It was owned by an acquaintance of mine, a regular spot for anyone of power. It was beyond me why Victor felt comfortable enough to show his face there knowing that he had a target on his head.

It wasn't very different from the club where I had met Alani. Strippers. Lap Dancers. Sex workers. Victor was known to find a liking for anyone with a pussy.

I passed by the guards. Usually, everyone who entered had to be patted down, but they nodded at me and turned away. They knew I carried, and also knew that if they even bothered asking—I wouldn't take it too likely. The newbie who stopped me could attest for that.

I met Santino in the private section. It was a few feet above the dance floor, overlooking the crowd.

"Over there," he said, pointing to the left and I followed the trail. Flashing lights and clouds of smoke made it hard to see, but I scanned the area until I spotted Victor. He was having a conversation, a drink in his hand and a flirtatious and drunken grin on his face.

He seemed to be having a good time, but my entire body stilled when I saw who he was talking to.

I narrowed my eyes, stepping close to the railing until my hands wrapped around the steel. I had to make sure it was her. Shoulder length curly hair and the same dress from the restaurant. I was right, and my scowl deepened as I witnessed the scene unfold before me.

He was close to Alani, almost touching her and for a second I thought that he might have been bothering her.

Until she laughed.

• • •