Page 40 of Depraved
“Sweetheart, they know. It’s not a secret. But there’s shit going down you can’t be around for.” I smooth my slacks, imagining her in a tiny lace string and how enjoyable it’ll be to have a glass of whiskey while she rides my cock. “So settle down and put something on I’ll like for later.”
I hear Sarah take a deep breath before her voice fills the line, eerily calm. “You have completely forgotten who you’re speaking to. You will fuck only yourself from this point on. And whatever the fuck is going down at family dinner that I can’t be around for better never show her damn face while I’m here.”
The line dies, and I place the phone down on the seat next to me, picking it up to call back but putting it back down just as fast. A small laugh escapes my throat.
She thinks I’m seeing another woman. Sarah just got jealous, really fucking jealous. I don’t think my dick has ever been this hard.
Fuck.
My car slows, a horn honking in the background, pulling me from my thoughts. We’ve stopped in front of a small florist shop in downtown Chicago. The minute I’m back in the present, my shoulders tense and all the humor from my conversation dies.
“We’re here, boss.”
I come every week to the bricked building on this busy street, usually on autopilot. It’s a necessary chore—the duty of a doting son.
But I hate this fucking place because it reminds me where I have to go next.
I step out the moment my car door opens and scan the sidewalk, before closing my suit jacket and buttoning it to guard me from the chill in the air.
The clerk perks up as I step through the entrance and motions to the dark pink peonies on the counter.
“We’ve got them ready, Mr. Sovrano.”
I nod, walking over and accepting the butcher-paper-wrapped bundle, tossing a twenty on the counter. “I won’t be here next week. But the week after we’ll resume.”
“Absolutely, sir,” he responds and jots down a note to himself on the pad in front of him.
I turn to the door, and my eyes are drawn to a case filled with roses, all varieties of colors, the petals slightly dewy from the water that’s been sprayed on them.
“Would you like to add to your order, sir?” the clerk questions.
Would I?
I could send Sarah the whole fucking case and watch her roll her eyes at my outrageous behavior. Pretend she hates them, then watch the smile brighten on her face as I tell her that I’d do it every damn day if it meant she’d be that happy again.
I could, but since she’s pretending to hate me…
My eyes linger on them for another moment before I shake my head, breaking my focus. “No. Just what I have.”
My driver pulls the door open, and I walk out, the tiny bell dinging again as I do.
“I got it,” I say, grabbing the door handle and opening it.
Sliding in, I settle into the back of my SUV, placing the bouquet next to me in the empty seat. I look out of the window and catch my reflection, seeing the grin on my face. I’ve never wanted to buy a woman flowers. Ever.
And this pistol makes me want to buy the store.
My head shifts, and I let out a half laugh as I lean in toward the driver.
“Take me to my mother.”
He nods as the car comes to life, and we slowly pull out into traffic. I undo the button of my suit jacket and reach into the inside pocket to retrieve my cell.
I hit the number and place it against my ear.
“Boss,” Antonio greets.
“Did we verify?”
