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With each impact, my muscle memory pushes the body in the chair to provide me the answers which I seek. After multiple strikes, the familiar sting of my knuckles splitting against someone's face and the constriction of my shirt sleeves on my forearms create a sense of calm. Even here with someone tied up in the warehouse, the sting of pain brings me comfort. I feel no residual guilt about the pain that I am inflicting on him; there is no room for remorse. They always deserve it; betraying us is a well known stupid decision and those who make it pay with blood. I know how stupid someone has to be to cross the mafia… especially the Angelini Family. My family.
My father is known for his ruthless streak; no one is safe if they cross him, not even his flesh and blood. If you are part of the family and you choose to betray your own, the price is more than those brought into the fold. Every full member of our organization has wings tattooed on them. This mark is theiragreement to hand their lives over to the organization. None of the family members are required to join, but if you choose not to be part of the family business, you are cast out. Those who have left do not get to contact any current members, but it gives you a free pass to leave when you come of age. Robert was one of ours until he decided to betray the family. His blood splatters across my signature black shirt showing as dark spots. He spits out another tooth but still has not given us the information we need. Cousin or not, he will give us our answers, one way or another. Only when the truth leaves his lips will he find the reprieve his body is seeking. He was never meant to be on this side of theAngel of Death.
“I train at the gym for two hours every day, how much longer can you last?” I snip, watching his face for any cracks. The strength he currently wears is nothing more than a mask that he has used to hide his deceit. This is my position in the family business, theAngel of Deathfor the Angelini Family. He needs to break before my father loses his patience and shows up. We must know who he told and what he told them to protect our men and the merchandise. Landing another blow, I know that I should feel something since we grew up together, but we all know the rules. Our family offers no second chances when it comes to betrayal. He may be a rat, but he also knows my history and how I got the nameAngel of Deathat the ripe age of sixteen. He prepares for the next hit and releases a rattly sigh.
The sound is barely a whisper followed by a soft, “Okay.”
With the skepticism in my voice evident, I push,“This is your last chance before I leave you here for the night and find your son. He is coming of age.” I hate using this against him but he is giving me no choice. My need for answers outweighs my current distaste for threatening his only son. “Who are you working for?” If I don't retrieve this information my father will show up and flay the skin from his bones before he breaks every bone in hisbody while keeping him awake with an adrenaline drip. That is his specialty and how he became known as theAngel of Pain. An original Mobster and a man-made legend. A man who will get his hands dirty and only wears black suits to hide the stains of his conquests.
“Fabbri; I’m sorry, Leo,” he cries, knowing his life is about to end. He sags as he begins to understand that his fate is sealed and that there is no going back. While many have seen the inside of these walls, few have seen it and lived to tell the tale. While we typically avoid involving children in any part of our operation, his son turns eighteen in a few months. The debt that he owes our family will be passed to his son should he choose to stay in our world. There are not a lot of lines that our family does not cross, but uninvolved women and children are firmly protected. If a woman wants to take an active role in the underground, she will receive the same treatment as the men.
“Sorry, isn’t enough, Rob, and you know it.” My heart beat a steady rhythm as I gripped my gun with white knuckles. Before I pull the trigger, I see memories flash of us in school together. Followed by our first night at the club, observing and learning dominance and kink. The vivid memories of when he found out about his son at six years old. His resolution to make up for the time that he lost of his son’s childhood due to the fear his mother felt. Closing my eyes, taking another breath and stilling myself, I point the gun at his forehead and pull the trigger. There was no reason to keep him alive, this was a mercy compared to what my father would do now that we have the information. Rob gave me the answers I needed and I paid him back by giving him a speedy death. Turning away from the body, I thrum with the need for a release and control.
“Clean this up. I am going to blow off some steam.” I know where I need to be right now, and it isn’t helping dispose of a rat. My emotions were gone, stuffed into a box. This is how I handlethe darkness that shrouds my last name. I am an Angelini, a strong man and the heir to my father's empire. I cannot act weak, not even when I have to kill a man that I have known for most of my life. There is no room in this world to feel. If you show emotion, it will get you killed and put a target on anyone you care about. Besides my best friend, there is very little that I can afford to be expressive toward.
While most of my life is dedicated to being the next in line for the family business, I take solace in the moments that are solely mine. The ability to regain control of myself by holding the pleasure of my partners in my hands. Blowing off steam with a short lived bed companion is one of the few choices I get to make without interference. I know that it is tradition for my marriage to be selected like a business transaction, but until then I am permitted to play how I see fit.
I paused briefly at the spigot outside to wash the blood from my hands. The low outside lighting is just enough to see where the blood could be covering. The familiar sting of the water in fresh wounds grounds me after a night like this. I test the flex of my knuckles, inspecting the damage and finding it minimal even after hours of interrogation. The chill of the pumped water sinks deeper sending shivers up my spine and bringing me back to reality. Once the water runs clear instead of bloody, leaving behind only the residual damage, I turn off the water. Wiping my hands on my pants to dry them, I walk to my car.
Opening the car door, I grab my signature custom black Italian jacket from the front seat and put it on. When I became theAngel of Death, I began wearing only black button-up shirts to prevent blood from being seen as I integrated back into society. Sinking into the leather seats of my Audi, I try to forget what his eyes looked like with a bullet between them. The car purrs beneath me, and the sound usually brings me joy, but tonight it is just another reality. I may be behind the wheel,but my mind is ping-ponging between my revenge for her and regaining my control.
The promise I made to her as a child is the only promise I have ever made. She’s safe and happier now. I think that she deserves so much more than our father is ready to provide, but that is what I have spent most of my life doing. My secret sister, the unclaimed heiress of the empire and broken from the loss of her mom. She is so strong given what she had to see. This constantly reminds me of why I am blindly obedient to my father. He bartered for a truce but has given the green light on my revenge plan as long as I do my part and stay covert. The monster cannot know that I am coming for him after all of these years with the first step being my arranged engagement to his daughter. An agreement he had made less than two weeks ago after years of negotiation.
One month of freedom is all that I have left to prepare for the engagement and impending marriage. The beginning of my plan and revenge with Fiorella by my side. These are the last two weeks left to fuck anything I want without causing problems with the families. This will all be new to me. Sharing my space with her, the woman who looks so like my enemy with her dark brown curls and his brown eyes with gold flecks. Her body is that of a temptress and dangerous since she knows how to use it to get what she wants. She will never truly have me though. I will never let my sister down by letting the viper into my bed. She will be my wife, and we may need to share a home, but my bedroom is my sanctuary. Wife or not, she will not be permitted entry.
She has a reputation in our community as a real brat; spoiled and never good at taking ‘no’ for an answer. I avoided her and her date at the last gala event that we both attended. Her family is in the skin business, and we will never work with or supply them with anything. My family is very rigid in their belief thatwomen and children are not part of our world by association. If a woman wants to join the ranks, she is given the same training and respect as the men, if she survives. Most don’t enter and all of our women are well guarded against the skin tradesmen.
It is well known that I never sleep with the same woman twice since this life does not afford the ability to settle down. The aspect of me dating or going steady is a joke in itself when I knew what I needed to keep my promise to Claire. There have not and will never be any girlfriends and none of the women ever step foot into my house, only the condo across from the club. All of my submissives sign a contract for one night with me with no strings attached. No kissing and no bareback. I will not be trapped by a woman who is only looking for my family wealth that does not understand the life that provides it. I am so close to everything that I have worked for coming together. Parking the car in my designated spot, I am officially on the hunt for a night of release and control.
My bloodline is what affords me the ability to walk through the doors of the exclusive club without a second glance at the bouncers while there is a line. I follow the thrum of music and up the stairs to the VIP lounge. I have the option to get bottle service at the special booths near the dance floor, my need for power and control over something or someone to forget what I did today. This kill was harder than normal but I would be haunted if I let him live to see what my father would have done. With each beat of the music, I walk to the bar.
Chapter Two
LEO
“My whole existence is balanced carefully on my need for control. This extends to what my dick enters,
but not how he reacts”
The music is throbbing around me and I feel a blanket of peace wash over me. Securing my blue wristband, I take a sip of the bourbon the faceless bartender passes me. Eventually, I will try learning their names but since they are off-limits for members there is no point in me knowing if it’s a Sarah pouring my drink over a Jessica. The few loved ones I have already are more than I should care about. Each of them is a calculated risk that could be used against me by my family or our enemies... My family owns this club and they have their instructions for when they see me. Upon entering the club I need top-shelf bourbon in my glass with minimal interaction but I tip whoever serves me well. If there is a wait I may get the glass myself instead of being impatient. Just because my family owns this place does not mean I will be unkind to any of the staff. My mother taught me manners and that unhappy people are far more likely to betray you than to be loyal.
Taking another sip, I glare at the cheap band on my wrist, but everyone, even me, plays by the rules here. If I want to take home a willing submissive I need to show that I understand the rules of engagement as a dominant in this club or I won’t be welcome back. While I always engage in a contract for the night, I do have a few custom rules to ensure that the women never assume they will get more from me. The first rule is no kissing. While my mouth can roam every inch of their willing skin, I don’t do lip-to-lip contact above the waist. Kissing is a relationship perk; not something necessary for a one-night stand. The next rule is that everyone agrees that there are no repeats, ever. I don’t want them to get attached to me when I need my main focus to be my promise. The last hard rule is that they are only allowed at the shared condo across from the club for the one night.
My eyes roam over the bar looking at their wrists before their faces. Being part of the community comes with power at a price. Everyone needs to follow the rules for this to work. No scenes are played at the club but those with a membership are issued wristbands to signify what they are looking for that night. Anyone who walks up to the bartender and asks to make sure they are left alone can obtain a red wristband that will prevent anyone from making advances on them.
This gives everyone a space to be free and safe. We have extra security blended into the crowd every night to do our best to keep all the patrons safe. All bar tops and tables are recorded and if anyone is seen slipping anything in someone's drink you end up at the warehouse to be taught a lesson for disrespecting my family’s establishment and code of ethics. They are given the option of working for us and living by our rules or meeting theAngel of Death. Following the rules is an integral part of mafia life. If you are not going to play by the rules you should both know the consequences and accept your punishment.
The blue band on my wrist indicates that I am a Dominant who is seeking a submissive for the night. Those not wearing bracelets are off-limits to me, not that I would want a regular one-night stand. Those wearing red are not open and if anyone is caught pushing someone for more than polite conversation they are removed and their membership is reevaluated. These are not negotiable and red wristbands are not considered a challenge. Anyone who puts their hands on someone wearing a red wristband, of any gender, gets you removed from the venue. Anyone wearing yellow bands is open to discussions but not actively seeking. These are more challenging and are usually looking for more than one night of play. Green wristbands are what I am seeking. They indicate a submissive looking for release and play.
Anyone caught harassing a sub gets banned permanently, without any second thought. This is the premier place to meet and interact with other members of the scene and leave with a contract. The bartenders have blank contracts that can be filled out before a pairing leaves the establishment. They keep my special modified contracts separate from the rest but available to save time for everyone. I will not willfully lie to a partner about my intentions, but that does not mean that every person who participates in the scene holds that level of personal responsibility. While we cannot control the way that participants behave outside these walls, we can ensure this is a safe environment.
Spotting a green wristband, I follow her body up to her sea-blue eyes surrounded by dirty blond bangs. While I may not know her name yet I will, even if it is only for tonight. Placing my drink down, I follow my feet around the bar until I stand next to her. Standing next to her she is wearing heels and is still a bit shorter than my six-foot frame. Perfect, I love it when they are shorter than me. The black dress she’s wearing is short leavingnothing to the imagination. She looks up at me through her lashes and takes a sip of her drink seductively. My mind conjures an image of her wrapping those luscious lips around my cock and I vow to make this image a reality tonight. I lean down to introduce myself with an imposing whisper in her ear.
“Hello gorgeous, I’m Leo” I see her cheeks turn a shade pinker, and she presses her thighs tighter together. Perfect, she is going to be the perfect distraction for this evening. The way her smile was both inviting and seductive is just what I am looking for.
“Hey, tall, dark, and handsome, how can I be of service to you this evening?” she says before taking a sip of her cocktail. The way her tits look in that dress make me imagine how they would look in my mouth instead. The blood is redirecting itself from my brain to my other head. Looking at the bartender, I nod, indicating for him to grab me a copy of my contract. He slides it on the clipboard to her with ease. She peruses the contract and adds notes about her hard limits before she signs on the bottom without any hesitation.
At the top of the contract, her name is scrolled in beautiful penmanshipAnnabelle Lewis. Taking the moment to review her hard limits tells me more about her than any small talk ever could. Her interests in the bedroom are the perfect pairing to my skill set and I have no interest in the things she indicated as a hard no. All the possibilities shuffling in my mind cause my pants to get tighter the more I think about what tonight has in store for me. Adhering my signature to the bottom of the document, I smile truly for the first time this evening letting my joy shine through. I hand the executed contract back to the bartender to be filed away in a database before turning to her.
