Step Bride: A Bad Boy Mob Roman(56)

“You’re all talk,” she said, kissing me again. “But I want to see you back it up.”

I smacked her ass as she walked away from me, grinning to myself. My cock was hard already, and I couldn’t wait to show her exactly what I meant.

The whole night had been exciting, starting with the rough, incredible sex surrounded by priceless art and finishing with a long, comfortable dinner. I could feel myself slipping. I was falling into something I couldn’t quite explain, something I had never experienced before. Watching her look back over her shoulder and smile at me made my stomach do flips. I wanted to take her right there in the hallway and make her feel things she had never imagined before.

“Sir?”

I glanced over to my left and Natalie stopped walking. A staff member was looking at me.

“Yes?”

“Sir, your father requests your presence in his study.”

I sighed. “What the hell does he want at this hour?”

“I’m sorry, sir, he didn’t say. But he seemed very agitated.”

I paused and glanced at Natalie. I could see what she was thinking clearly on her face: Arturo knew about the two of us.

And I was thinking the same thing. He was bound to find out eventually. Our marriage record was public and we weren’t doing a good job hiding what we were up to. I had hoped we had more time to figure out what we were doing before Arturo got involved, but maybe that time was up.

“Okay,” I said to the man. “I’ll be there soon.”

He nodded and walked off.

Natalie came over to me, frowning. “What does he want so late?”

“It’s probably nothing,” I said, smiling at her, covering up my worry. “Probably a business thing.”

She nodded uncertainly. “I’m sure you guys do this sort of thing late at night all the time in your line of work.”

“Crime is a twenty-four hour business.”

She laughed softly. “Come to my room when you’re done.”

“Okay. I will.”

She kissed me quickly and I watched as she walked off back down the hall.

Damn Arturo. I had been going to be cock deep in Natalie’s pussy, and now I was going to have to sit around in my father’s study and listen to him complain about some inane bullshit.

I headed off, walking through the familiar old hallways. I eventually stopped outside his study and took a deep breath.

I wasn’t sure I was prepared for what was gong to happen inside. I had no clue how Arturo was going to react to finding out that I had married my stepsister. I expected him to be angry, but how angry was the real question. Maybe I was going to have to get violent, possibly wrestle control of the mob out from under him. Or he was going to order me to divorce her, and that would be that.

I knocked hard.

“Come in,” I heard him yell.

I pushed inside. “You summoned me?” I said.

“Sit.”

He had a half-empty bottle of scotch sitting on his desk, which he promptly poured into an unused glass for me. He topped himself off and took a healthy swig.

“What’s this about, Father?” I asked, sipping my own scotch.

It was the cheap stuff. That was a bad sign.

“I found something out an hour ago,” he said, sounding sad. “Something that angers me and saddens me.”

I frowned, sipping my drink again. I savored the burn of the liquid as it rushed down into my stomach.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“Security tape showed me the truth.” He looked over toward his window, out at the ink-black yard. “I saw everything, Lucas. Everything. Do you know how betrayed I feel?”

I opened my mouth and then shut it. I simply shook my head, remaining silent. I didn’t know where he was going with this, and frankly I felt nervous. He seemed more sad than angry, though that was probably because of the alcohol.

“I am a fool, you know? A fool for trusting those around me. I am always betrayed in the worst ways.”

So it was true. He had found out. My heart was racing.

“I can explain,” I said slowly.

He looked at me sharply. “You knew about this?”

I was taken aback. “About what?” I asked.

“About my whore wife,” he spat angrily. “She’s been cheating on me, Lucas, fucking some lowly driver.”

I stared at him, open-mouthed.

He didn’t know about me and Natalie. He had found out about Camille and Franklin.

Which, in some ways, was much, much worse.

“I can’t believe it,” I said.

“Nobody can,” he said mournfully, drinking his scotch. Clearly he had already forgotten my slipup. “I was in love, Lucas. Love blinds us to the faults of other. I never saw this, never imagined this, but I could have.” He slammed his glass down, sloshing the liquid over his desk.