Page 78 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

“We’ll show you what it takes to be ours,princess,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “And then, if you stillwant to choose to lie by our sides, we’ll make it so.”

34

ANTONIO

CLAIMED BY HER FATHER’S ENEMIES

For fifteen minutes, I coordinated ourresponse to Enzo’s hit attempt with Alexis, my mind split between strategy andthe suffocating need clawing inside me. The rage burning through my veins is atwisted, all-consuming thing—hot and sharp, fueling my hunger for revenge.Enzo’s betrayal of Aemelia is unforgivable. A man who would order a hit on hisown flesh and blood is less than dirt. He doesn’t deserve to take his nextbreath, and by sunrise, he won't.

But beneath my fury, another desire coilsmaking it difficult to concentrate. The image of Aemelia kneeling for Luca, herlips wrapped around him, her body pliant, the way he stroked her hair whileissuing commands like she was nothing but a toy—it rattled something inside me.She didn’t flinch when we walked in. She didn’t shrink in shame or try to pullaway. She remained there, devoted and obedient.

She was a virgin when she came to us, hesitantand unsure, unaware of the depths of pleasure she was capable of feeling. Andnow? Now she offers herself without hesitation, comfortable in submission,willing to let Luca guide her into his dark proclivities. The thought alone isenough to make my hands tighten into fists.

I’ve never been a man to share what’s mine,but Aemelia—she doesn’t belong to just one of us. She’s under our protection.She’s in our care. She’s become something none of us want to let go of. Icannot begrudge Luca a taste of the girl who’s burrowed her way under our skin,unraveling us one by one.

“Call us when you have the meat,” Alexis saysinto the burner phone, voice clipped, taking no risks. His words are casual,but we both know Enzo the butcher will soon be reduced to the very thing he’sbuilt his trade upon. Tonight, he will know what it’s like to be on thereceiving end of a blade. But before that, we’ll make Aemelia understandexactly what it means to be claimed by her father’s enemies.

Alexis leans against the wall, arms crossed,eyes flicking toward the door to Aemelia’s room.“You good with this?” he asks, though theheat in his gaze tells me he already knows the answer. . We’ve shared womenbefore, but never anything serious. Never like this. And never with Luca.

“I don’t know what he’s going to expect,” Iadmit, rolling my shoulders, trying to loosen the tension coiled within me.

“I guess we just wait and see.”

Without hesitation, he strides to the door, asimpatient for more of Aemelia as I am. My blood pumps faster, anticipationthrumming through me like a war drum. I follow, stepping inside to find hercurled on Luca’s lap, eyes closed, his fingers threading through her hair inslow, rhythmic strokes. She looks at peace, completely undone in a way thatmakes my breath catch. She’s wearing the delicate nightgown she had on earlier,the thin fabric hugging her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I wonder if she finished him, if he finishedher, or have they been waiting for us?

“Close the door,” Luca says in his standardfirm tone.

When the door clicks shut, I twist the insidelock, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. All our lives, we’ve knownviolence and power; its familiarity is easy to navigate, but this is somethingdifferent: trust and surrender. My body craves Aemelia, but my heart isstronger, yearning for her gentle caresses, her sweet kisses, desperate to keepher safe.

“Our sweet girl wants to please us, don’t you,Aemelia?” Luca murmurs, his fingers trailing along her jaw, tilting her face upto him.

She blinks, eyes heavy with lust, lipsswollen, her breathing slow and measured. When she finally meets my gaze,there’s no fear, no hesitation. Only something deeper.

“I do,” she whispers, and my stomach tightensat her confession.

Alexis smirks, prowling closer, his gazesweeping over her like he’s already imagining all the ways he’s going to makeher fall apart for him.

“Such a good girl,” Luca praises, his handgliding down her back, soothing and possessive. “Now, go to Antonio and showhim how much you missed him.”

She rises from his lap slowly, her movementslanguid, fluid as if she’s floating. The girl who came here was coiled tight,vicious with resentment, burning with hatred. This Aemelia is soft and relaxed,ready for anything, and willing to please. When she stands, her clingynightdress slides over her thighs and dips low between her breasts, teasing me.My heart pounds as she stops inches from me, the heat of her body radiatinginto mine. My fingers twitch, the possessiveness inside me roaring to life.

I tilt her chin up, forcing her to hold mygaze, breathing her in, her scent of roses and vanilla making my head spin. “Areyou sure, Aemelia?” My voice is rough, but I need to ask. I need her to giveherself willingly to understand what this means.

She exhales shakily, nodding once, then again,her delicate hands splaying against my chest, her touch searing through thefabric of my shirt.

“Yes,” she breathes. “I’m sure.”

My restraint snaps.

I claim her mouth in a bruising kiss, pouringevery ounce of my hunger, my longing, into her, swallowing her soft moans andtasting her surrender. I lift her easily, gripping her thighs as I carry hertoward the bed, ready to show her how much I want her to be mine.

Alexis chuckles darkly from behind her. “Lookslike our little kitten is ready to play.”

Luca leans back in his chair, watching withthe cool detachment of a king surveying his kingdom. But I know better. I seethe way his fists clench, the heat simmering behind his ice-blue eyes. He mighthave had her first tonight, but we’re far from finished.

Aemelia trembles in my grasp, her breathcoming in soft, uneven pants against my lips. Her hands fist the fabric of myshirt like she needs something to ground her, to tether her to the momentbefore she’s swept away. I slide my hands down the curve of her spine,relishing the way she melts into me, trusting, eager. She was made for this—forus. For me.

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