Page 39 of The Gangster King
“Something like that.” I turn. “Prepare the visit to the Ashford family home and keep searching for Gianna. I need her home.”
Just in case I’m wrong, and she’s not with Braxton.
Right now, I have a special dinner to prepare for.
––––––––
I STAND WITH my hands in the pockets of my pants and gaze out across the vast backyard. On the other side of the vast space is the swimming pool where us kids spent years playing and my parents held parties. And Adelina and I pretended not to be interested in one another.
These games have gone on for decades.
My patience for it, gone.
She is mine.
I never expected my father to die this early—none of us did. Even though every day is a risk in this dangerous world. But now that Frank is gone, the door is open for me to claim the woman I’ve wanted forever.
I’ve spent too long fucking other women, feeling nothing, wishing it was her. I get off, sure, but it’s not enjoyable.
She can pretend she doesn’t feel the same way, but I don’t believe it for a second. I felt it in our kiss that day in the Hamptons and I see it in her eyes. Anger doesn’t hide desire very well.
Someone should tell her.
Now I want answers.
I want to know why she fights her attraction and refuses to admit how she feels. Why she stands back and seethes when other females in the families offer themselves on a silver platter...and she watches me take them up on their offer.
I wasn’t going to be a monk for her.
Why? Why has she made herself the forbidden fruit?
I know she’s not subservient. Although I’d argue when my mouth is back on her and my cock inside her, she will do exactly as I tell her.
“Get your hands off me!” I hear the woman herself cry.
I spin and glare at the guard.
“Sorry Boss, she tried to run, so I had—”
Touch her. He’s not comfortable saying it.
“I didn’ttry to run.” Adelina rolls her eyes.
I glance back at the soldier and he’s white. He’s worked for my father for a long time, so I spare him anymore panic and nod.
“Thank you, Jackson.”
“Yes, sir.” He disappears so fast I almost wonder if teleportation has been invented.
“Stop fucking with my men. You know what could happen to them,” I say as I walk over to Adelina.
“Maybe let me go then.” She pulls her arm away when I try to take her elbow.
“Sit,” I demand, my patience thinning even more.
The table has been set with the Baldassare silverware, which has been in the family for seventy-five years. A server fills both our glasses with pinot grigio.
“Shall we serve now?” the woman asks, and I nod, and she leaves.