Twisted Devotion to My Mafia Kings

Five

Dominic

Nico and I walked through the throng of bodies towards Seamus and his crew. The security tablet showed him at the bar with one other from his crew. It was stupid for him to come here tonight. He knew he was crossing boundaries. He knew he was breaking the rules.

I kept an eye on my surroundings, watching every person we passed. My eyes strayed back to the little spitfire that had run into Nico. The minute I saw her, my mind conjured images of her between Nico and me. I imagined wrapping her caramel colored hair around my fist while Nico licked and sucked a path up her neck.

God, I was hard just from the sight of her.

I reached down and adjusted my c**k in my pants.

Later.

We will find her later.

The head of the Irish mob sat at the bar with a glass of one of our finest whiskeys in front of him. He was a few years older than us, and he loved to make sure Nico knew it. Like that made him smarter, wiser, more powerful. It didnt. It only made him arrogant.

The man he was with whispered something in his ear and Seamus turned towards the dance floor. When I followed his line of sight, red coated my vision.

He was looking at my mystery girl.

Nico, seeing the same, put his hand against my chest, knowing that I was likely to charge.

I didn't share my toys. Not back then, and I certainly didn't now. She may not know it yet, but she is mine. Ours.

"Calm down. Now,"

When Nico gave an order, there was no room for negotiation. He was the only one I listened to. The only one I would ever submit to. There was a trust between us that had been forged long ago. I trusted him with my life. His decisions were sound and he always had a plan.

I backed off and took several deep breaths to push the monster down back in the pits of my mind.

Everyone has demons, but mine? Mine were truly the devils that haunted people's dreams.

I watched as the vixen sipped from a glass. I watched as her throat bobbed with each swallow. I took note of the drops of alcohol lingering on the corner of her mouth. I thought of licking them off with my tongue. I imagined wrapping my fingers around her throat. I tried to picture the way her throat would constrict against me. There was a man with her. One that she had walked in with. One that was standing next to her side when she bumped into Nico. One that had glared at us as if he didn't know the repercussions of disrespecting the Italian mafia prince.

She had handed her glass off to a passing server before moving her body to the hum of the music. Her curves were sensual, and her body swayed intimately to the beat as if she was feeling the music and not just hearing it. The man was dancing alongside her, but there was no spark of fire in his gaze. No interest. Not the heat that I felt when I saw the little devil. Perhaps that's why I didn't feel the overwhelming urge to rip his throat out or put a bullet in his skull. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered on a man sitting in a booth on the opposite side of the room. I made a mental note to look deeper at the registration list for tonight when we were done here.

"I wondered when you would find me," Seamus said as we approached his backside. He had a strong Irish accent that most women seemed to swoon over. He wasn't an unattractive man. I wasn't insecure enough to hide that fact. He had brown hair, green eyes, and his body was littered with ink that seemed to tell a story. He had a broad chest, strong arms, and scars on nearly every surface of his skin.

He was as dangerous as he was attractive.

I kept my hands in the pockets of my pants, my fingers dancing around the handle of my knife. My gun was tucked into my belt, but I wouldn't use it unless I had no other choice. We didn't need to incite fear and chaos. Not if we wanted this club to thrive and grow.

"You are in my territory. You think I wouldn't know the minute you stepped foot in my club?" Nicos' voice was calm, but I watched the way he eyed the Irish fucker.

Seamus turned around on his stool and leaned his arms back on the bar, exposing his chest and stomach to us. Cocky son of a b***h.

"See, I heard you opened a club up. I wanted to see what all the talk was about. Also, your territory? Has there been a change in leadership I am unaware of?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and I wanted to punch him.

It was as much of an insult as it was just a statement of fact.

"My father's territory is my territory. Don't argue semantics with me when you were only handed your crown less than a year ago. You're what? 35 and you have just now got your daddy to give you the big boy toys?"

Seamus' eyes darkened with anger. Nico was 28 and I was 27. Nicos' father was supposed to hand over the territory either when Nicos married into a respectable family, or he turned 30, or challenged his father for the position and won. It wasn't a secret that Seamus had been gunning for his father's position for years. That greed and power were the only things his family cared about and their "little gag" tended to suffer from the bad decisions his father had made.

"You are not welcome here. Your drink is on the house, but unless you want trouble, leave. That is not a request. Yes, it is a threat. Your only and final warning. This is Italian territory."

Seamus lifted his glass and downed the liquid. He didn't flinch as the burning alcohol slid down his throat. Instead, he smirked. Tapped the bar and tossed a hundred to the bartender and swaggered towards the door. He stopped and stared at the crowd, his eyes finding my little vixen before heating.

"So many pretty faces here tonight. So many....opportunities," he smiled as he clocked my fists balled at my sides and Nicos' clenched jaw. We were never ones to usually give away a poker face, but Seamus saw through them. Even the slightest tells.

He turned and left without a second thought.

Nico stormed off and headed towards the office. Like his shadow, I followed him. He needed something to take the edge off, and I would gladly give it to him.