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She’d definitely know I was thinking of her while I jacked off after getting this. I pumped my cock faster, my head rolling back, envisioning her warm mouth wrapped around me. What would she think when she got the video?

“Are you going to bury your fingers into that wet pussy while imagining me pumping my cock in and out the way I’m pumping into my hand?”

Labored breathing mixed with the sensual sounds from Chase Atlantic. I increased my pace, shamelessly moaning and saying her name. The thick head of my cock moved through my clenched fists. My eyes connected with the camera as I spit on my hand, lubing it up before switching hands.

“I need that wet cunt of yours to come drip down my cock, Scar. It’d be so much better than my spit.” My eyes fluttered closed with pleasure, hand stroking base to tip, going faster and harder with every pull.

“Fuck, Scar. I want to fill you up and watch my cum leak out before shoving it back in,” I breathed out, my movements becoming erratic and desperate. Thrusting into the tight grip of my fist faster and harder. Pretending it was Scar I was slamming into as she moaned my name. My balls drawing up in anticipation. The image of her bouncing on my dick sent me over the edge.

“Ugh, fuck. Scar, I’m going to come.”

Thick, warm liquid hit my hand and abs, my body shuddering with each spurt of cum. I peeled my eyes open again, staring down my phone like it was her icy eyes I was looking into as I dragged a finger through my mess, bringing the digit to my mouth and licking it off.

“Will you come clean me up next time, Scar?”

CHAPTER 18

SCAR

DICK VIDEOS ARE ONLY GOOD IF THEY MOAN YOUR NAME

My eyes flew open, and it took my mind a second to catch up with where I was. The blackout shade submerged the room in darkness. I owned nice mattresses in all of my homes, but this bed rivaled them. Or maybe it was the sheets.

Or that the three fuckers had kept me up past three a.m. They plagued my dreams and made it impossible to fall asleep.

At some point, someone had dropped off a shirt to wear to sleep and my clutch. Even left a charger for my phone, which was good because it died after texting Kenji. My money was on Niko being the good Samaritan. I hadn’t been around them long, but he was clearly the mother hen of the group. Which meant he was also the most ruthless if you fucked with those under his protection. He might be kind to me now, but I had no doubt he’d put a fucking bullet in my brain if I threatened his brothers. Questions about how the three of them became so close swirled in my mind as I climbed out from the middle of the bed.

I’d only ever been close to one man, and that had fucking backfired epically. Ryan was now my sole friend, and we only spoke every few months. But we’d connected on a soul level and didn’t need daily communication. It was a relationship that transcended space and time. Plus, she didn’t have a dick.

Dicks were trouble.

I’d bleed for her. It was why I’d given her a burner with my personal number. No one had that. A direct line to Cain. The merc for hire who was known for the ability to get to anyone.

Of course, Ryan only knew me as Scarletta Romano, niece to Dominick Romano and the bastard daughter of Anthony Russo. I’d never shared with her that the infamous assassin and I were one and the same. She had her suspicions, though. Friendships, when you were a criminal, had different rules. We didn’t share our every secret. Being a good friend meant not having an issue with secrets being kept from you.

Mine could get her killed. She’d become a target for anyone looking to unseat Cain. I laughed thinking about it because Ryan would probably shoot them in the head before they even got close. La Brujita de Los Muertos had twitchy fingers and didn’t give a shit about asking questions.

The cold from the tiled bathroom floor pulled me back to reality. My secrets would be hard to keep around these men. I’d have to figure out what I was going to do soon. I wasn’t even a fucking Romano. At least not by blood. My sperm donor had shot his load into my mother while he was married to the devil, Giana Romano.

It got him killed. My literal saving grace was that my mother was a random stripper he’d assaulted, so Giana graciously allowed Dominick to keep me.

“Remember, Scarletta. I blessed you with life. How is it you’ll atone for your father’s sins?”

In this world, family and loyalty were everything. Someone had to pay Anthony’s penance. My whole life had been atoning for sins that weren’t my own, and I was at my wit’s end.

The bathroom mirror revealed the dark shadows that rimmed my eyes. Their light blue seemed to make the bags stand out even more.

Maybe it was time to make a deal with demons and give up atonement. I ran my finger along the thin line below my clavicle. There was a strange longing for the cut to scar. First time I ever wanted a mark to remain.

For so long, I’d planned my escape from my uncle and his empire. Killing him was a fantasy I didn’t truly think would happen. But now…maybe that life wasn’t what I really wanted. Maybe what I craved at my core was to tear apart the man who’d stolen my freedom.

The idea of him writhing in pain as his entrails fell to the floor filled me with sick pleasure. I longed to hold the blade that would seal his fate. Carve my rejection of repentance into Dominick’s skin before plunging the blade into his gut and twisting.

No, I didn’t want to disappear.

I wanted to seat myself atop his thrown like a blasphemous goddess and make him watch as every man he commanded bowed at my feet. I’d help my new husband and his brothers in their quest to take over the city. Not out of loyalty to them, but out of pure, unadulterated rage for the hand Dominick had dealt me.

He could have loved me as his own. The way Sergio had done with Ryan, but instead, I felt the sting of a belt and the twinging pain of hunger.