When I got out of the shower, Siena had already left. She did the walk of shame and asked one of my men to take her back to Florence. I expected her to still be in bed when I walked out with the towel around my waist. I expected her to stay for a few hours.

But she disappeared the second the opportunity presented itself.

She couldn’t sit still.

I didn’t have to wonder if the sex was good for her because I could feel it anytime I was inside of her. She was so wet the condom didn’t experience any friction. She was so wet I could get my fat dick inside without issue. And she sucked my dick like nothing in the world would make her happier.

But when she got her fix, she disappeared.

I’d never seen that before.

Bates and I had a meeting with our Chinese clients at the estate, and after several hours of crunching numbers, they finally departed the property. More money was in our accounts, hiding in plain sight from their government. Some of it would be used to fund the Skull Kings and their weapons project. Money was taken from some piles and dropped into others. It was the nature of the business.

Bates helped himself to the decanter of scotch then relaxed in his leather chair around the conference table.

I shut the folder in front of me, partially thinking about the money I’d just made and partially thinking about the woman I’d fucked two days ago. Still hadn’t heard a word from her. She hadn’t come to the estate to continue decorating it.

She just disappeared.

“What’s on your mind?” Bates asked. “Money or pussy?”

“What if it’s neither?”

He chuckled before he took another drink. “It’s never neither. Which is it?”

I’d been thinking about pussy a lot more than money lately. “Siena.”

“And what’s new with her? Haven’t seen her around lately.”

“Neither have I.” I ignored my scotch because I wasn’t in the mood for booze. A cigar would be nice, but I didn’t have the energy to get up and fetch one. Giovanni was always two seconds away, but I was too proud to have the man wait on me hand and foot.

“Really?” he asked. “That’s interesting.”

I didn’t do much kissing and telling. Bates knew about my rendezvous because he usually witnessed them directly, but I rarely mentioned them out of context. I’d finally had Siena and assumed I would forget about her now that her name was carved into my bedpost. But I was even more confused than I had been before. “She stayed over the other night.”

Bates watched me, his hostility slowly filling the room. “How’d that go?”

I skipped the details. “I haven’t stopped thinking about her.”

“Then it went really well. You’re usually bored by the time you get into the shower.”

I definitely wasn’t bored this time. She was the only woman in my bed, and that seemed to be perfect for me. My fingers drummed against the table as I pictured the way she looked underneath me. With her ass in the air and her face pressed into the sheets, she was the sexiest thing in the world.

Bates studied me for a moment longer. “I was hoping this interest would burn out like all the others.”

I knew my brother was suspicious of her, but I believed she was harmless. If she really had negative intentions, she wouldn’t be so cold and distant. It seemed like she genuinely hated me, but her attraction to me kept her in place. She wasn’t like the others, the ones who threw themselves at me in the hope something would stick. “She’s harmless, man.”

Just like every other time he made a speech, he sighed before he spoke. “I did some digging. I didn’t like what I found.”

“How many parking tickets does she have?”

Bates didn’t laugh. “I’m serious, Cato. She’s Siena Russo.”

Was that name supposed to mean something to me? “Russo is a common surname, Bates.”

“She’s the daughter of Stefan Russo.”

Now that name did mean something to me. Stefan had a drug enterprise. He smuggled his goods in cigars. He’d asked me for money on many occasions, but I always turned him down because we could never agree on a mutually beneficial interest rate.

Bates held my gaze, knowing this information was important. “You don’t think it’s a strange coincidence that she follows you around and gets a job working where you sleep almost every night?”

I was the most paranoid man on the planet. I didn’t trust anyone—except my own brother. Even then, that was difficult to do sometimes. “You think this woman is here to take me down? What’s she going to do, Bates? She can’t get a gun past security, and she certainly couldn’t fight me off. Even if she did, how is she going to get me out of here? I admit it’s a weird coincidence, but that doesn’t mean she’s guilty of anything.”

Bates tensed visibly like a snake, as if he wanted to lunge at me with a knife raised. “I know you like pussy, but come on. How stupid are you?”

“I’m not stupid. I’m just not afraid of a woman who’s a little over five feet tall. She’s been working at that gallery for five years, so it’s not like this was all some setup. If it is, then she and her father have been plotting this for a long time.”

“Actually, she hasn’t spoken to her father in five years. When her mother passed away, they stopped speaking.”

I hardly knew this woman so I shouldn’t care about her feelings, but sympathy immediately tugged on my heart. Not only did she lose her mother, but she also lost her father. “Why?”

He shrugged. “From what I can gather, Siena blamed him for her mother’s death. She wanted him to walk away from the business because it wasn’t safe. Her mother was taken as a hostage and then murdered. That’s when Siena turned her back.”

Again, I shouldn’t care. But I did care. “She didn’t want anything to do with the business.”

“I guess not.”

“Which is why she got a job at the gallery.”

Bates shrugged again.

“She’s not a threat, Bates. She’s just a woman trying to get by. Everyone in Italy has ties to the criminal underworld. It’s impossible to meet someone who doesn’t.”

“I still think it’s too much of a coincidence. If she wants nothing to do with the underworld, why is she working for you?”

“She wants to decorate my house with artwork, not work in one of our offices. She’s still sticking to her own discipline.”

He shook his head. “Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I don’t think I am. The last thing I want to say is I told you so.”

“If she has no connection to her family, then what’s the harm?” I questioned. “It’s not like she has a group of men she’s reporting to. She’s completely on her own, and even though she’s got a serious attitude, one woman is no threat to us.”

Bates dropped the argument because he knew he didn’t have a case. “I just wanted you to know. Do whatever you want with the information.”

I was glad my brother told me all of that, but not because I thought she was a serious threat. Now it all made sense. She didn’t want anything to do with me because she knew what kind of lifestyle I led. She knew I was at the top of the hierarchy of the underworld. She knew I was dangerous, and being associated with me for too long would put her right back where she didn’t want to be.

Now it was no wonder she was nothing like the other women.

Because she really didn’t want me.

The more she distanced herself from me, the more interested I became.

Four days had come and gone, and I hadn’t heard from her once.

All I got was a shipment of paintings I had already approved of. She didn’t even deliver them in person. There was just a note for Giovanni and instructions where the paintings were to be hung.

Was she avoiding me?

I got her address from my security team and stopped by for a visit. She had a quaint little house just outside Florence. It was a two-bedroom Mediterranean-style home with a small garden and driveway. It wasn’t ideal for a family, but for a single person, it was the right size. I left my Bugatti out front then knocked on her door.

It took her a few minutes to answer, and when she did, she didn’t look happy to see me. “What are you doing here?” The annoyance was bright in her green eyes, like she couldn’t stand the thought of my stopping by unannounced. The signs of arousal that she showed the last time I saw her were long gone. Now I was just a nuisance to her.

My hands slid into the pockets of my jeans. I admired the way her blouse clung to her curves so snugly. Her black jeans fit her long legs perfectly, catching the perkiness of her ass and the tightness of her legs. “Came to see you.”

“Well, a phone call would have been more appropriate.” She stepped outside and shut the door behind her, as if she was trying to hide something from me. Or she was hiding me from someone else.

I glanced at her closed door before I looked at her again. “Got company?”

She kept her hand on the doorknob, like standing in my way would really stop me from getting inside if I wanted to. “I’m on a date right now.”

The last thing I should be was angry. We only had one night together, and that was the most time I extended to any woman. After that, they were just a memory. There was no attachment or interest. By the following night, I was usually with another woman anyway. But I’d never been the recipient of such indifference, of a woman so unaffected by me that she looked for someone else the second we were finished.

It reminded me of myself—which annoyed me. “Then tell him to leave.”

“Why would I do that?” She stood her ground when everyone else would crumble. “I’m not going to let you ruin a second date.”

“Do you regret how the last one went?”

Her rage slowly died away when she remembered our night together—and how she loved sucking my dick as much as she enjoyed fucking it.

“Why would you want him when you could have me?” I didn’t need to see what this guy looked like to know he was no match for me. I didn’t need to remember our last rendezvous in absolute detail to know I was a better lay than he would ever be. Never in my life had I chased a woman who couldn’t be conquered. I constantly had to remind Siena of my qualities, like they were so easy for her to forget.

“That’s a bit arrogant, isn’t it?”

“It’s a serious question.”

She rested her back against the door, giving herself extra space between the two of us. “I thought that was a one-time thing. We had fun, but it’s over. You’re my boss.”

“And as your boss, it’s smart not to piss me off.” I stepped closer to her and pressed my hands against the door, blocking her in so she had nowhere to run. I tilted my head toward her and brought my lips close to hers, remembering exactly how that mouth felt against mine—and my cock. “So get rid of your date and invite me inside.”

She showed subtle signs of melting, but she was also annoyed by my orders. “If you want to come by tomorrow, I’m free. But I’m not blowing off my date just because you don’t like it. I don’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe me anything.”

My hands moved to her hips, and I squeezed her gently, my thumbs digging into her waist. “No.”

“You really think I would march up to you in a bar when you were with someone else and demand you ignore them?” she asked incredulously. “Demand that you go home with me instead?”

“I would love it if you did.” I pressed my forehead to hers and smelled her perfume. I remembered how it smelled against my sheets after she left. I loved the way she smelled when she was coated with her sweat as well as mine. I’d never been a man obsessed with the chase, but the more she evaded me, the more I wanted her.

“Leave—”

I pressed my mouth to hers and kissed her against the door. It was quiet being so far away from the city, so I could hear her breaths as they entered my mouth. Every time our lips moved together, they made the sweetest sound. Her breath of arousal was the best noise of all, so subtle and sexy. My hand moved into her hair, and I kissed her deeper, wishing she was naked with her legs spread. I didn’t want to leave knowing she would be fucked by some other guy. I wanted to be the one to do the fucking. “You know you want me to fuck you tonight. Not him.” I kissed the corner of her mouth then her neck. “Get rid of him. Or I will.” I was the kind of man who shouldn’t have to ask more than once. People didn’t dare defy me, not if they wanted to live a long and happy life.

She tilted her chin up to look at me, her eyes a deep green like the Tuscan hillside in the height of summer. Her gaze shifted back and forth slightly as she debated her next move. Even though she wanted me, she might continue to be stubborn out of principle. Or she might drop this charade altogether and ditch the loser who would never please her the way I could. “Give me a minute.” She walked back inside and shut the door.

Minutes later, her date walked out. Tall and handsome like the last date, he seemed worthy of a beautiful woman like Siena. She certainly didn’t struggle to replace the men she used. Just like me, she could be entertained by a new man every night because she was magnetic. He got in his car and drove away.

Siena opened the door again but didn’t invite me inside. She walked back into her home and headed into the kitchen. “All I’ve got is wine. Red okay?”

I walked down the hallway and examined her cozy home. With wooden floors and historic architecture, it was clear the house could easily be a hundred years old. The windows were blurry from age, and the hallways were smaller than homes built in the modern age. “Yes.” I rounded the corner and arrived in her small kitchen. There was a dining table that could seat four people, so I took a seat. Paintings of flowers were on the walls, along with family portraits on the mantel. One that stuck out to me the most was a picture of her and her mother. At least, I assumed it was her mother—because they looked like sisters.

Siena placed the glass in front of me before she took a seat, the bottle in hand. She swirled the contents before she brought it to her lips. Lipstick was already smeared across the glass because she’d been drinking out of it with her other date.

“When did you meet him?”

“You really want to talk about the guy I just got rid of?” With her elbow resting on the table, she held the glass near her lips. She licked her lips slightly, collecting the last hint of taste before she took another drink. Her actions were so smooth it didn’t seem like she was making them on purpose. It was natural.

She was naturally sexy. “Just curious. You seem to have a new guy every time I see you.”

“I could say the same about you,” she countered. “Except, in your case, you always seemed to have several new women every time I spotted you.”

I was a magnet for beautiful women. They could feel the pull from my wallet and crotch. “When did you meet him?”

“He came by the gallery the other day. We made small talk before he asked me to dinner.”

“And how did you end up here?”

“I invited him.” She didn’t possess a hint of shame whatsoever. This woman wasn’t afraid to be herself at all. She couldn’t care less about my opinion. She lived a life similar to mine, and she enjoyed every second of it.

If I didn’t want her all to myself, I would actually respect it. “I’m just a phone call away.”

She set her glass down before a ghost of a smile stretched across her lips. “I never pinned you for the jealous type.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Really?” She swirled her glass again. “You usually sabotage dates? Show up on a woman’s doorstep without an invitation? Demand for her to get rid of her date? If you aren’t jealous, then what are you?”

I didn’t have an answer. None whatsoever.

She set her glass down then shifted her gaze out her back door. The sun was setting, and the heat was slowly dissipating. A gentle glow from the sunset still filled the room and blanketed her skin in the most beautiful color. “I’m not looking for anything serious right now. I told you I’m just interested in good sex and my career. And even if I were looking to settle down, you aren’t my type.”

It took me time to process a response because her words caught me off guard. Like she threw a pitcher of cold water in my face, I was stunned. No woman had ever said anything like that to me. Even when I was just a man with a dream, women wanted me for more than the night. It made all the muscles in my torso tense in both offense and curiosity. This woman was completely unaffected by my charm, and it drove me crazy. “Then what’s your type?”

“Not a murderer, for one.”

“Then you’re going to end up with a pussy.”

She ignored the insult. “An average man with average means.”

All women wanted was a rich man who could buy them the world. They wanted nice cars, a beautiful mansion, and a necklace covered in a wealth of diamonds. They wanted to feel like a queen and be married to a king. “Bullshit.”

Her eyes moved to mine, full of hostility.

“All women want security. All women want a powerful man who can protect them.”

“Only women who can’t provide for and protect themselves.” Her fingers wrapped around the stem of her glass, and she fidgeted with it as she kept her eyes on me. “I’ve been doing it for a long time, and I’m pretty good at it. That’s not what I’m looking for in a man. And money is the root of all evil. When you have too much of it, everyone wants it. It’s impossible to tell who really likes you for you…and who wants to screw you over. People will do anything to get their hands on it…even murder innocent people.”

I had a few asshole comments in retaliation, but I didn’t say them because I understood the context of her words. Her mother had been murdered because of her father’s empire. Being associated with a life of crime had only ripped her family apart. Now she lived on her own and hadn’t spoken to her family in many years.

“So, you aren’t my type, Cato.”

I hadn’t touched my wine since I walked inside. I was far more interested in drinking her in than letting the alcohol touch my lips. Bates’s paranoia seemed like overkill now that I’d heard her confession. This woman didn’t have a trick up her sleeve at all. She really just wanted a job from me—and that was all. If anything, she was a lesser threat than anyone else I dealt with. “You aren’t wrong. But you aren’t right either.”

She placed her hand under her chin as she examined me. Her thick lashes made her eyes even more beautiful, hypnotic. They shone with ecstasy when I was deep inside her, and the effect was absolutely stunning.

“With great power comes great responsibility. If you’re a man worthy of that power, you will rule without consequence. I’m the biggest shark in the ocean, the top of the hierarchy. I control this world, down to every last detail. Men look over my shoulder for me, but my power is untouchable. I’m the most powerful man in this world—and no one can ever take that away from me. Perhaps my station makes me a target, but it also makes me untouchable. If a woman were ever by my side, she would never have to be afraid of anything—because the world serves me.” Her father had a respectable empire with plenty of men, but he was still no match for me. She thought she understood wealth and privilege, but the others were penniless compared to me. She had no idea what real luxury was like. “I can make all problems go away.”

She hung on every word without blinking, but she still didn’t seem impressed by what I said. “You can make problems go away, but I prefer not to have problems to begin with.” She grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass. “I inherited this house from my grandmother. It’s small and quaint, but it’s perfect for me. I don’t owe anything on it, and the money I make from the gallery is enough for a comfortable life. There’s nothing else I need or want.”

I wasn’t envious of her attitude, but I respected her for it. It gave her the ultimate level of power. If there was nothing else she needed, then she didn’t need to bend over backward for anything or anyone. She was in control of her life, and she wasn’t looking for a man to make her life easier. She didn’t need anyone for anything.

She drank her wine, licking her lips in between tastes.

It was the first time in my life when I’d wanted a woman who was borderline indifferent toward me. She wanted to sleep with me, but not enough to blow up my phone with texts or to show up at one of my favorite clubs. She didn’t have an ulterior motive, a fantasy that she could become the richest woman in this country. She didn’t need anything from me—so I meant nothing to her. It was pretty sexy.

She met my gaze and didn’t blink for several heartbeats. “What?”

“You’re sexy.”

“Me?” She tilted her head sideways slightly.

“Yes. You.”

A smile formed on her lips, and this time, it was genuine. “You like an independent woman?”

“I don’t have a type.” As long as she was beautiful and subservient, I didn’t care. Her personality, religion, and beliefs were irrelevant. I’d never paid enough attention to a woman to learn anything about her. “But I was raised by a single mother. She worked as many hours as she could to provide for Bates and me. Not once did she complain or seem weak. So I do have a soft spot for a woman who takes care of herself.”

Her eyes slowly softened, and the smile on her lips faded away. Her fingers rested against the rim of her glass, and the playfulness she’d shown just seconds ago was gone. “I didn’t know that.”

“You’re not a very good stalker.”

“I guess I didn’t think your childhood mattered.”

“Every boy becomes a man. But the man never forgets who that boy was.” It didn’t matter how rich I was now. I could never forget what it meant to struggle. I could never forget the winter nights we couldn’t afford heat and the summers we couldn’t afford air conditioning. I could never forget picking up food at the homeless center when Mom got laid off from the cannery. My suits were as expensive as cars, but underneath my skin, muscle, and bone was the memory of where I came from.

“Your mother must be proud of you.”

“Yes.” It didn’t matter how old I was, my mother seemed to relish any opportunity to compliment me. “My father took off when Bates and I were young. Being a father and a provider was just too difficult for him. My mother had to be two parents and two incomes. But she made it work and always made us feel loved. She’s a badass…and there’re not many women out there like her.”

Siena’s eyes filled with emotion, like that story was as touching to her as it was to me. “That’s sweet. I’m guessing you take care of your mother now.”

“Of course.”

“That’s even sweeter.” She didn’t seem interested in her wine anymore, only focused on the conversation we were having. “I lost my mom a few years ago. We were really close, and it’s never been the same without her. She was always so strong and driven. She was a homemaker, but that didn’t stop her from being my role model. I’ve been trying to pick up the pieces since she left, but I feel like I never make any progress. Anytime the holidays roll around, I have to start over.”

I could see the devastation in her eyes the second she mentioned her mother. Without a father and brother in the picture, she was really on her own. Bates and I didn’t exchange heart-to-hearts, but he was still a prominent figure in my life. I had him and my mother. It seemed like she had no one. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. She’s the reason I want my own family. I want to be a mom the way she was my mom.”

I didn’t know her well, but I could easily picture her surrounded by three kids. I could picture her making dinner for an imaginary family, all living under this small roof. It would be cramped, but they would still be happy. My future didn’t involve a wife or kids. Bates and I knew we could never marry, not when it was impossible to trust anyone besides each other. So Siena was right—I could never be her type.

I grabbed the glass and took a drink, keeping my eyes on that deep brown hair. Her fair skin contrasted against the darkness of her hair, creating a captivating beauty that was impossible to ignore. The only reason I’d noticed she’d been following me was because she was the most stunning woman in the room. I’d have to be blind not to notice her.

“What brought you here tonight, Cato?” Her eyes followed my movements as I lifted the glass and returned it to the table. “What exactly do you want?”

I rested my arm on the table and felt my watch tap against the wooden surface. “You.” I could have gone out with Bates and found someone to occupy my bed for the night. I could have called up one of my regular girls for entertainment. Instead, I’d been fixated on one woman.

She held my gaze with her usual look of bravery. She must have been expecting that response because she didn’t have a perceptible reaction. This was the second time I’d shown up unannounced, tracking down her location because I had the power to do whatever I wanted. “You might own the world, but you don’t own me. I don’t appreciate being followed on my date or you showing up on my property like this. You have my number—you can always call me.”

I couldn’t stop the smile from entering my lips. “So you can follow me around, but I can’t do the same to you?”

“I followed you in public spaces. I never encroached on your love life or showed up on your property.”

“Because you would have been shot if you did so.”

“Whatever,” she said. “If you want me, you need to respect me. That’s the only way this works.”

I had all the power, but she was calling the shots. It was cute. No one else would have the balls to make a request like that. “Alright.” I grabbed my glass of wine along with hers and carried them to the sink. Her date’s glass sat at the bottom, drops of wine dripping down the drain. Just the thought of her getting naked with some other guy made me livid, so I walked back to the table and stared down at her.

She held my gaze, unafraid. Sitting there with her head held high, she was a queen without a throne or a crown, but she possessed such dignity and grace it was impossible not to respect her. I could be out with any other woman, but I was standing in her kitchen, her cheap wine still flavorful on my lips.

Maybe her coldness burned me. Maybe her indifference thrilled me. Maybe the only reason I was there was because I wasn’t bored, because this relationship had unfolded much differently from all the others. “I could leave now. I could bring another woman to my bed—preferably two. Or I could stay here—with you. What will it be?” I slid my hands into my pockets and stood near her dining table. My hand ached to grab her by the back of the neck and bend her over the table. Or better yet, throw her on top of it and ram my dick deep and hard. The last thing I wanted was to go out and find pussy elsewhere. It was uninteresting and boring, the same thing over and over. The only remotely interesting woman I’d ever had was sitting right in front of me, defiant and beautiful. Since she didn’t want anything I could offer her, there was no reason for her to be impressed with me. It only made me want to prove her wrong.

“If I asked you to leave, would you actually do it?”

I didn’t do anything anyone asked me to do. “Not sure. I’ve never actually listened to someone before. But we both know you don’t want me to leave, so let’s stop pretending.” Arrogant as it made me seem, I didn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

She stared at me for several heartbeats, her poker face impenetrable. Maybe she didn’t like me as a person, but she certainly liked the way I made her feel. She’d been coming around my dick all night, so enthused it was like she’d never had such good sex in her life. She needed me for a good time, needed me to make up for all the boys who wasted her time.

She rose to her feet then slowly sauntered toward me, her presence drawing the air right out of the room. With eyes glued to mine, she approached me until her hands touched my muscular arms. Her fingers felt the corded veins and bulging muscles. Then she slowly slid up to my shoulders while she eyed my lips. “I want you gone before I wake up in the morning.”

She pushed me away before we even began. It was the same attitude I took with my lovers, but coming from her, it still surprised me. I was disposable, worthless. It only made me want her more, made me want to conquer this cold woman and turn her red-hot. “We’ll see.” My hands helped themselves underneath her blouse, and I felt the soft skin of her tummy. My thumbs caressed her abs through her skin as I pressed my face closer to hers. The longer I held her stare, the more I felt her strength wane. She was a spitfire when she was in control, but the second my hands were on her, she was easily defeated. My mouth teased hers, coming close to her lips but never kissing her. I backed her up to the table then pulled my shirt over my head.

Her eyes immediately worshiped my body, her desire burning hot. Her palms planted against my pecs, and she slowly dragged her fingertips down, feeling the grooves of muscle in the valleys of my stomach. That fiery attitude was long gone, and all that remained was a woman full of ache. Just like the last time we were together, she quickly slipped into a different person, like there was no other man in the world she would rather be with. Maybe her attitude fooled other people, but it certainly didn’t fool me.

I angled my neck toward hers but still didn’t kiss her, purposely teasing her.

She leaned in to take my mouth, her fingers clawing at my chest.

I refused to give her my lips. “Tell me you want me.”

“You know I want you.”

“Say it.” I would punish her for teasing me, punish her for making me want her so much that I marched over here like a possessive jackass.

Her hands clutched my shoulders. “I want you, Cato.”

“No more other men. Only me.” I’d never made that request of another woman. They seemed to drop everything in their lives to focus solely on me. But with this woman, she had more suitors lined up every time I turned my back. She was the kind of woman who didn’t wait for a man—and that made her incredibly sexy.

The arousal in her eyes died away at my demand. “You can’t be serious.”

“Am I ever not serious?” My life was centered around work and booze. I had a piss-poor sense of humor.

“I just told you I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“Neither am I. But I want you when I want you. I’m not getting in the back of the line every time I want a turn.” I pressed my forehead to hers as I held her against the table. My fingers explored her hips underneath her top, feeling that silky soft skin I wanted to kiss everywhere.

“You don’t seem like a monogamist.”

“Because I’m not.” I rubbed my nose against hers then stared at her lips. “But I can make an exception—for a short period of time.”

A grin stretched across her face, a knowing look in her eyes accompanying it.

“What?”

She shook her head slightly. “I was right.”

“About what?”

“I told you I could handle my own. I told you I was the kind of lover a man could barely handle on his own. I told you I didn’t share—a man would never want to share me.”

It had seemed like an empty threat at the time, but her words had haunted me ever since she’d spoken them. Every time I was with a woman, I wondered if Siena would have been better. I wondered if I’d made a mistake bringing her home with the expectation of a threeway. Now that I’d had her, I realized her threat had been real. She was a special kind of woman—one I’d never met before. “Congratulations. You’re the first person to prove me wrong.”

Her hands started below my pecs and slowly snaked upward. “I like the taste of victory.”

“I like the taste of you.” My fingers played with the top of her jeans, and I discreetly unfastened the top button. My eyes moved to those plump lips, but I still didn’t take them into my grasp. The idea of being with a single woman didn’t sound like a sacrifice. It sounded like an opportunity I’d never explored before. The repetitiveness of my life had become mundane, and ever since meeting Siena, everything seemed to be more interesting.

“So, I don’t date other men. That means you don’t date other women.”

“I never dated to begin with.”

“You know what I mean.” Her hands trailed to my jeans, and she slowly unfastened them. The button popped open then she worked the zipper. Slowly, she dragged it down, along my hard outline which was noticeable in my boxers. Whether it was intentional or accidental, her eyes flicked down and she licked her lips, like seeing my dick was exactly what she’d been looking forward to the most. “Just you and me for a few weeks. When my project is complete, so are we.” She pushed my jeans past my hips so they slid to the floor. She was getting me naked, and she was also establishing a deadline without hesitation. A long-term commitment really was the last thing she wanted from me.

Made me want her more.

She hooked her fingers into my boxers and slowly dragged them down, pulling them over my thickness and then down my thighs. Every inch was revealed slowly, showing the deep vein in my shaft, along with the thickness of my crown. Like a woman who could appreciate the fine things in life, she looked at my cock as if it was a work of art. “I don’t say this often…but you have a beautiful dick.” She looked down at it while her fingers still gripped the fabric of my boxers. Her fingers twisted it in place, her tongue swiping across her bottom lip in the sexiest way.

My hand moved to her neck, and I slowly guided her to her knees on the tile. I’d gotten a good blow job in the back seat of my car or in a bathroom stall, but I’d never gotten head quite so spectacular as I did from her. She had an enthusiasm that couldn’t be replicated or faked. She was a woman who got off on enjoying me, on pleasing me.

She opened her mouth wide and got to work, using that slender neck to take my length in and out. She flattened her tongue and kept her mouth wide as she pushed me deep inside her. Her hands gripped my boxers and yanked them farther down until they were gathered around my ankles. She closed her eyes and slathered me with saliva, soaked me so much, drops sprinkled on her dining room floor. Instead of giving me a quick round of foreplay so we could skip to the good part, she slowed down and took her time. She enjoyed it even more than I did.

And that made it the sexiest thing in the world.

Women wanted to please me to get my attention. Siena sucked my dick because she liked it, had nearly climaxed the last time she did it. Her nails dug into my muscled thighs, and she moaned even when my dick was so deep it might choke her.

Best head I’d ever received.

My hand dug into her hair, and I stared down at the woman beneath me, watched her ignore the discomfort of her knees because my dick was just so good. I’d fucked a lot of throats, but I’d never fucked one so amazing.

“You love my dick, baby?”

She pulled her mouth free and stroked me with her hand. A drop of saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth and fell to the floor. “Yes. So much.” Her fingers caressed my balls, and she pushed my length back inside her throat.

It would be so easy for me to come inside her, to release my hot seed in the back of her throat so it could drip down into her belly. There was nothing I loved more than a good suck, gripping the back of their neck as I kept them in place to finish. But this woman was so good at everything that I wanted more. I wanted to come in her mouth, her pussy, and her ass all at the same time.

Too bad that wasn’t possible.

I pulled my dick out of her mouth and tried not to shove it back in when she made that disappointed face. “Up.”

She used my thighs as a ladder to pull herself up. Her jeans were undone, and her top was slightly bunched up from the way I’d gripped it earlier. When she was on her feet, she pulled her top over her head and stood in a lacy black bra, a push-up that highlighted the beauty of her naturally perky tits.

I’d seen a lot of tits in my life—but nothing compared to hers.

She pushed her jeans down and let them fall to the ground. What was left behind was a matching black thong.

I knew she wore the lingerie for her other date—but now I was the one who got to see it.

My hand slid up her back, and I undid her bra with a snap of my fingers. I yanked her thong down next, pushing it over her sexy hips so it could fall down to her ankles. Now that she was naked and painfully beautiful, I wanted to fuck her so hard it was a punishment. I wanted to reprimand her for bringing another man to the house. I wanted to torture her, thinking another man could fuck her as well as I could.

My body was eager to speed things up, but my lips slowed everything way down. My hands palmed her perfect tits, and I kissed her. My mouth moved achingly slowly, treasuring the softness of her lips and the way they gently moved against mine. Our breathing filled the quiet room, and the sun slowly disappeared over the horizon until we were left in the darkness. Only a few lights in the house kept the room illuminated.

I lifted her onto the dining table and dragged her ass over the edge. Her nipples were so hard they could sharpen a knife. Her voluptuous tits were paired with a slender rib cage, an hourglass frame that could put her on the cover of a dirty magazine. Her flat stomach led to a perfectly manicured pussy, nicely waxed and gorgeous. I’d already tasted her before, but now my cock just wanted to fuck her.

Fuck her so good.

I gathered her legs in my arms then pressed my cock inside her entrance, my large crown pressing through the tightness of her beautiful lips. My head could feel the moisture that was there, and that told me she’d wanted me to fuck her long before my dick was even in her mouth.

“What are you doing?” She propped herself on her elbow and pressed her hand against my stomach, her fingers hitting the thick grooves of muscle. “You aren’t fucking me without a condom.”

“If I’m not fucking anyone else, then I’m definitely fucking you without a condom.” I’d never been bare with a woman, knowing they would take the first opportunity to get knocked up. But this woman didn’t want anything to do with me, so I wasn’t worried about that.

She kept her hand on my stomach. “Show me your papers, and I’ll show you mine. Until then, put one on.”

The head of my cock could feel how wet she was, how much she wanted to take my cock deep inside her over and over. Just feeling that single inch was enough to make me ignore her and do it anyway. But once I turned over my papers, she would be mine and I could fuck her as much as I wanted.

I pulled out then rolled a condom on.

“Thank you.”

I yanked her to the edge of the table and gave a violent thrust as I shoved myself inside her. I pushed through her tightness and wetness and claimed her pussy as mine. That other guy only wished he were me. He was probably at home beating off that very moment, wishing he were fucking her instead of me.

But I was the one fucking her.

She rolled her head back sexily, her long hair catching the drops of wine that had spilled from the glasses. With her lips wide apart and a beautiful zest for life in her eyes, she was a woman being thoroughly fucked the way she liked. She didn’t miss her old date, not when she was being fucked by a dick as big as mine. “Cato…I love your dick.” She grabbed on to my hips and pulled herself into me, meeting my thrusts by dragging her body closer. Her head rolled back, she bit her lip, and then she said it again. “Such a good dick.”

My hand gripped her neck, and I pulled her into me that way, controlling her completely as I slammed my entire length inside her. I hit her over and over again, claiming this pussy as mine. Soon enough, the condom wouldn’t separate us, and I would dump all my come deep inside her, making her the first woman to have the honor.

Couldn’t wait for that moment.

She held herself on one elbow and then tugged my neck down to hers so she could kiss me. She cupped my face as she gave me a hot kiss, her legs still separated so she could keep taking my length. “Keep fucking me…just like that.”

Nothing sexier than a woman saying what she wanted. Unashamed of her sexuality, she used me the way I used her. She used me to get off, to drive herself into a scorching climax that made her toes curl.

“Right there…” She stopped kissing me so she could scream, right in my face. “Cato…yes.” She rested her forehead against mine and closed her eyes as she finished, her perfect pussy squeezing my dick like a python. She came hard and fast, drenching me with another wave of arousal. “Do it again.” She opened her eyes and shot me a fearless expression, like my disobedience wouldn’t be tolerated.

My cock had already thickened because I wanted to explode after her performance. Watching a woman take the lead while being on her back was a rare sight. All they usually did was moan and compliment me. This woman pushed me a little harder, told me how she wanted me to make her come. “I can make you come as many times as you want.”

She gave a gentle kiss to my lips, a subtle apology for her aggression. “I’ll hold you to that.”

We ended up in her bed upstairs. It was a small queen in a cramped room. The window overlooked the backyard and the hillsides in the distance. She had a mighty oak just outside her window, the leaves rustling with the nighttime wind.

A behemoth like me couldn’t be comfortable in a bed barely big enough for a single woman, but we made it work by placing her on top of me. She was lighter than a feather, so I hardly noticed she was there in the first place. My hand rested in the deep curve of her back and caught a few strands of hair at the same time. I watched the shadows dance on the ceiling as I held this woman, the most confusing woman on the planet.

I’d never stayed at a woman’s house before, but there I was, about to break her mattress with my weight. I’d never ambushed someone without notice, never asked a woman to stop seeing other men. I turned into a completely different man overnight—and I had no idea why.

She eventually drifted off to sleep on top of me, her even breathing possessing the same beautiful cadence as a waterfall. She was so small and beautiful, but her magnetic presence rivaled my own. It would have been easy for another man to take my place that night, and that somehow made me feel special.

Even though special wasn’t in my vocabulary.

She took a deep breath then stirred, something in her thoughts waking her up. She moved off my chest then ran her fingers through her hair, getting the long strands out of her face to reveal her smeared mascara. With heavy lids and a distinct look of exhaustion, she seemed ready to sleep for days. Instead, she got off my chest and yawned. “You should go. I have a long day tomorrow.”

Frozen in place, I couldn’t believe the simple way she kicked me out of her house.

Cato Marino.

I owned everything, and she was kicking me out?

When I didn’t speak or move, she turned to look at me, sexy with the covers barely covering her perky tits. With that sleepy look in her eyes, she looked even more beautiful tired than wide awake. The hour I spent pleasing her had drained her completely. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes. Doesn’t mean I’ll listen to you.”

“This bed isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

“You can just sleep on me.”

She propped herself up on her elbow. “Do you always try to sleep over when a woman asks you to leave?”

No. Because I’d never tried to stay. I kicked the sheets back and rose to my feet.

She stayed in bed and pulled the sheets to her shoulder. “Good night.”

I stood naked at her bedside, shocked once again. “You aren’t going to walk me out?”

“You know where the front door is.”

I always thought I was an asshole, but it looked like I met my match. “You need to lock the door after I leave.”

“I’m not scared of anyone. I have a gun, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

I lingered at her bedside, having no reason to stay and not a word to utter. Her indifference confounded me. Her coldness seared me. Any woman would kill for my attention, but it didn’t mean a damn thing to her.

I left her bedroom and grabbed my clothes downstairs. I pulled everything on then checked my phone. Of course, there were ten missed calls from various people. One of them was Bates.

I walked out the door and got into my Bugatti, my security team spread out around the perimeter over the course of a mile. I drove away and called my brother back.

“Where are you?” he asked the second he picked up.

It was pitch black outside, and I headed back to Tuscany instead of my place in Florence. I didn’t get to drive as much as I wanted, so it was a rare treat. With no music, I could hear the sound of the powerful engine as it carried me across the beautiful landscape. “What do you want?”

“Whenever you don’t answer me, that means you’re doing something you shouldn’t—or doing someone you shouldn’t.”

“Don’t worry about my dick, and I won’t worry about yours.”

“You don’t need to worry about mine—because it’s not stupid.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Anyway, rumor has it the Beck Brothers are going bankrupt. Their adventures in oil reservoirs have gone belly up. Information isn’t public, but I always have one man on the inside.”

I’d loaned them half a billion dollars to fund the project with a hefty interest rate in return. Their agenda seemed so simple that I was dumbfounded they could screw it up. “Hopefully, your informant is wrong.”

“He’s not, Cato. They’ve spent half the investment, and apparently, it’s gone. We’ll be lucky to get the second half back.”

“They’ll recoup what they lost—one way or another.”

“That’s a lot of money, Cato—even for us.”

I drove with one hand on the steering wheel and noticed the lights from the cars behind me. It was easy to spot me in the middle of nowhere because a dozen cars packed with men and weapons accompanied me everywhere I went. Even when I was alone, I was never really alone. “People trust our money because we always make our clients pay. It keeps us liquid. We will get that money back one way or another. I’ll see to it.”

“Or we could execute them.”

“Killing them is too easy. Putting them to work is more practical.”

“But we’ve got to kill them anyway.”

Everyone knew that was a risk once they borrowed money from me. I had the cash to make their investments come true, but they were bartering with their lives. If they failed to make good on their promises, they would face torture and death. There were no exceptions. “Yes. I’ll do it myself.” I’d killed so many people it didn’t faze me. I didn’t lose a moment of sleep over it. Most of my business associates were criminals anyway, so it wasn’t like I murdered innocent people. I did business with the rest of the world, families that needed a loan to buy their first home, but that was a completely separate side of my business. That was the public version, the one that was written about in the newspapers. The underworld was where I made my real money. I was a glorified gangster in a pretty suit.

“I’ll do some more digging and let you know.”

“Alright.” The phone call seemed finished, so I was about to hang up.

“Were you with the art buyer?”

My finger hovered over the button. “I’m not sharing her, so stop asking.”

He chuckled. “I’m not interested in sharing. I’m interested in getting rid of her. If she turns out to be the worm I think she is—”

“I’ll put a bullet in her brain myself.”

I sat in the conference room alone and took my time enjoying my cigar. The smoke filled my lungs with pleasurable electricity before it slowly filtered out of my nose. I’d finished paperwork, emails, and phone calls, but I was in no rush to leave. Time passed slowly, and I sat there, thinking about nothing.

I wasn’t just the richest man in this country, but I was also the youngest to accomplish the feat. My mother never had to worry about money ever again, and my brother and I would never have to struggle for the rest of our lives. Sitting at the top of the world should give me a beautiful view, a climax that never faded.

But it felt bland, boring, and artificial.

Was this depression? Was this hopelessness? I didn’t have a single complaint to make, but yet, I felt empty inside.

Why?

Giovanni knocked before he opened the door. “Miss Siena is here to see you, sir.”

I kept smoking my cigar. “Send her in.” I’d forgotten she was stopping by that afternoon. Decorating my home was a large task that would take her at least a month, and every time she moved on from one room to the next, she needed my approval.

She stepped inside a moment later, dressed in black with white pearls. Her elegance was respectable, but anytime I looked at her, I pictured that hourglass shape, those luscious tits, and that wet pussy that could service my dick like a pro. Her folder was under her arm, and she helped herself to the seat on my left, remaining as professional as ever.

I didn’t put out my cigar like a gentleman. I continued to draw the smoke into my lungs as I stared at her, admired the woman who was so indifferent to me it was a miracle she remembered my name.

She crossed her legs then opened the folder on the table.

I waited for her to tell me to put out the cigar.

“You seem moody today.” She flipped to the correct page then clicked the top of her pen.

“I’m always moody.”

Today, her hair wasn’t pulled back in the rigid librarian look. It was curled and thick, framing her face and reaching past her shoulders. Pearl earrings were in her lobes, and her bright red lipstick was the perfect shade for her skin tone. She was a gorgeous woman whether her hair was up or down. She could be dressed in a potato sack with no makeup, and I would still find her fascinating. Something about this woman drove me wild, but I hadn’t figured out what that quality was.

She watched me bring the cigar to my lips and puff the smoke into the air.

I waited for her to tell me to put it out.

“You’re being awfully rude.”

“Am I?” I set it in the ashtray, letting the smoke rise to the ceiling.

“You don’t offer me a cigar?”

I did my best to hide the surprise from my face, but I couldn’t. Instead of nagging me to be healthier, she wanted to join in on the fun. I grabbed another cigar and placed it in my mouth to light it. Then I handed it over.

She held it between her fingers and took a deep breath, the smoke dancing around her slightly open mouth.

I’d never seen anything so sexy.

She slowly let the white smoke escape from her mouth and nostrils before it rose to the ceiling. She took another drag, closing her eyes like she was really treasuring it. Then she set it in the ashtray and turned to her notes.

“Most women would ask me to stop.”

“Most women have never enjoyed a good cigar.” She turned her papers toward me and showed me pictures of the new paintings she wanted to hang on my walls. “I visited Milan the other day, and I found these. Since you host important clients in this room, I thought we should put our most stunning pieces here.”

I looked at the pictures she’d taken with her phone, but the flash and poor quality didn’t do the work justice. “Bring them here like the others so I can see in person.” The paintings weren’t that important to me, but seeing them with the naked guy was a much better way to judge the impression.

“I can’t do that with these. They’re being housed at the museum. You never gave me a budget, so I wasn’t sure what price range you were looking for. But these are also some of the most expensive pieces in the world.”

The arrogant asshole inside me wanted to laugh. “Money is no object, baby.”

“This one alone is ten million euros.” She pointed to the Monet. “It’s been at this museum for twenty years, and they aren’t willing to let it go for a euro less.”

My Tuscan home was a power symbol, a subtle way to impress and intimidate the men I worked for. There was nothing too expensive or outlandish. “The price is fair. We’ll head to Milan and see the painting in person.”

“Alright. Just let me know when.”

“How about now?”

She was about to take a drag from her cigar, but she lowered it back into the ashtray. “This second?”

“Yes.” I made my own schedule. I could do what I wanted, when I wanted. “We’ll take my plane. We can leave in thirty minutes, arrive in Milan in an hour, and then have dinner before we return.”

Siena wasn’t as suave as she usually was. All of that information caught her by surprise. She knew I was rich, but she probably didn’t realize how easily I could make things happen with the snap of my fingers. Her father had an impressive empire, but it was dwarfed by mine. “Alright. I’ll call the museum and let them know we’re coming.”

The exhibit was closed off to the public, so we could see it in private. Anytime I did anything, I usually shut down the building because I wasn’t a big people person. I wasn’t concerned about being assassinated or kidnapped. I simply liked my own space.

Siena stood by my side, and we examined the Monet masterpiece in silence. The watercolors were breathtaking, and even after all these decades, it was still marvelous. Time hadn’t worn it down, not when it was so meticulously preserved. Most famous artists were penniless and starving, and I always wondered how they would feel about their work being revered—and sold for millions.

Siena was quiet beside me, her black dress stopping above her knees. She wore black stilettos that gave her several inches of extra height. Her posture was always so focused, always so perfect. She seemed like a model rather than an average person. She had more elegance than the Queen herself. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She was standoffish and cold most of the time, but right now, her sincerity was heavy. It was thick enough to have substance, to feel like a physical object. “I wish I could paint.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because I’m terrible at it,” she said with a chuckle. “Trust me, I’ve tried. My work looks like a child’s finger painting. To paint something like this, you need to have a special quality. Whether it’s in the hands, in the mind, or the soul…it has to be distinct. It seems like a lot of famous artists have deficits, but those inhibitions somehow give rise to something unique and beautiful.”

I’d never been a conversationalist, but I loved listening to her speak. With other women, I asked as few questions as possible. Getting to know them was never on my to-do list. The less I knew, the better. “There are other forms of art. Pottery, poetry…”

“Being an art buyer is as close as I’m going to get. And it’s the greatest job I ever could have asked for.” Her hands came together at the front of her waist as she stayed several inches away from me. When we weren’t alone in a bedroom together, she kept her distance, keeping it professional between us like we weren’t sleeping together. “What do you think?”

I didn’t think I could leave behind a painting that she admired so much. It made the image more meaningful to me, made me feel like I owned a piece of her. “I’ll take it.”

She turned her head my way, her green eyes beautiful under the art lights. If someone painted a portrait of her, I would buy it in a heartbeat—whatever the price might be. “You’re sure? It’s a big responsibility.”

“Having a painting?” I asked incredulously.

“This isn’t just a painting. It’s a piece of history. Artwork isn’t something you ever truly own. It’s like a home. You keep it for a while, enjoy it for decades. But when you’re finished, you sell it to someone else. It’s never really yours to begin with. You’re just paying to borrow it—for a period of time.”

I hated listening to anyone talk, but I could listen to her talk forever. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

“It’ll have to hang on the northern wall so it doesn’t get direct sunlight. As long as no one bumps into it or anything, it should be okay. If any of your clients knows anything about art, they’ll recognize it right away. And that could always be a good conversation starter.”

There wasn’t much talking that took place between my clients and me—except about money. “Let’s make the transfer. Then we’ll have dinner.”

“Of course.” Siena left the hall to handle the deal with the manager of the museum.

I stayed behind and stared at the painting I’d just bought—something that would remind me of Siena every time I looked at it.

The painting would be carefully transported by car the following day, so Siena and I went to dinner at one of my favorite bistros. Giovanni called ahead and told them I was coming, so they set aside their private room just for me and my date.

Siena sat across from me with her shoulders back and her posture perfect. The menu was open in her hands, and her hair naturally settled across her shoulders with her slight movements.

I ignored the menu and focused on her instead. I could have taken her to my home in Milan and fucked her instead of taking her out to dinner, but spending the evening with her over a bottle of wine didn’t sound so terrible.

It was the most interesting part of my day.

“I’m getting the lasagna.” She shut the menu. “What about you?”

“The chicken.” I filled my glass and took another drink.

She opened the menu again and took a peek. “That doesn’t come with cheese.”

“So?”

“Who goes to an Italian restaurant and orders something without cheese?” She examined the bottle on the table and read the label. “This is a good bottle of wine. You’re a fan of the Barsetti vineyards?”

“They make the best wine. And no, I don’t eat cheese.”

“Lactose intolerant?”

“No.” I couldn’t eat anything with fat or carbs to keep up this appearance.

“If the doctors told me I couldn’t eat cheese, I would just do it anyway. There’s no consequence I wouldn’t face.” She swirled her wine as she looked around the empty room. The other side of the restaurant was full of people, but our side was nearly silent. Low-burning candles were at the empty tables, and the distant sound of classical music came from the other room. She looked out the window for a few seconds before her eyes turned back to me.

Brilliant like gems, her green eyes were as vibrant as the forest after a spring rain. They were so clear and bright, reflecting the light from the candles but also emitting their own sparkle. She wasn’t just a beautiful woman, the likes of which could be found by the dozen. Her unique qualities made her unforgettable, like the sexy curve of her upper lip and the plumpness of her bottom one. Her beauty was easily dwarfed by her poise. While some women were vain about their appearance, she was simply confident. She didn’t think too much about her looks, but not too little either.

I was so transfixed by her perfection I nearly failed to notice the waiter approach our table. “The lady will have the lasagna. I’ll take the chicken.” I handed over the menus and listened to his footsteps as he walked away.

“So, are you excited about your painting?”

I’d stopped thinking about it the second we left the museum. “Not much to be excited about.”

“You’ll have a masterpiece in your conference room. That’s a bold statement.”

“I make bold statements every day.”

The corner of her mouth rose in a smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” Conversations with her never seemed stale. She didn’t ramble on like most people, choosing to get to the point and not drag her feet. There was nothing more obnoxious than listening to someone talk just to hear their own voice.

“Be careful, Cato.”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” I certainly wasn’t afraid of the truth.

“That man you shot in your driveway… Do you really think he deserved it?”

I hadn’t anticipated such an interesting question. I hadn’t anticipated her bluntness. None of my men would be dumb enough to question the validity of my decision. She obviously felt comfortable playing with fire. “Yes.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I have enemies in Russia. They infiltrated my security detail with one of their own. He was planted there to spy on me, to find any information that might be relevant. He was only there for ten days before my men caught on to his tricks. Once they shared their suspicions with me, I handled it.”

She suddenly turned timid and quiet, the beautiful blush in her cheeks fading to the color of snow. Her posture was still graceful, but it took on a cowering appearance, rigid like all her muscles were tightening at the same time. Her eyes remained focused on me, not blinking for so long, it seemed like she forgot how to blink at all.

“I could have had my men handle it for me, but I like to do the dirty work.”

She tilted her head down and grabbed a piece of bread from the basket. She placed it on the plate in front of her and tore off a piece. She dipped it in the dish of oil but didn’t place it in her mouth. It was the first time she’d fidgeted in my presence. “Does that happen a lot?”

“When you’re at the top of the food chain, everyone wants what you have. Some men are stupid enough to believe I can be overthrown. Those men aren’t executed in a merciless way. Those men are tortured first. Their families are tortured. Everything they love is ripped apart before I finally put them out of their misery.”

She pinched the bread between her fingertips and smeared it with more oil.

I watched the color in her cheeks move to her neck. I watched the way she lost her confidence, like she was actually afraid of me. “I’m a scary man, baby. The scariest man in this country. But as long as you don’t betray me, you have nothing to fear. I’m a criminal, but I don’t harm the innocent. They stick to their world, and I stick to mine.” I had the power to make anything happen, to commit murder in broad daylight, and the police wouldn’t touch me. Reporters would cover it up to protect their friends and family. The entire world turned the other cheek—since I let them be.

“You just told me you torture people. I think fear is a rational response.”

“I torture liars, thieves, and assholes. Are you a liar, thief, or asshole?”

She popped the bread into her mouth and chewed slowly.

“I didn’t think so.” I drank the red wine before I set the glass down again.

Siena was quiet now, her interrogation barely surviving a single question.

“You have a lovely home. I apologize for not mentioning it before.” I’d been too busy fucking her on the kitchen table and the bed to make small talk.

“Thank you. I love it there.” She abandoned the rest of her bread on the plate, having her fill from a single bite. “I know it’s a bit small, but I think it’s the perfect size. As long as I don’t have more than two kids, it should work.”

She spoke of a family like it was the only thing in life she really wanted. She didn’t discuss other ambitions, like starting her own company or pursuing hobbies. She just wanted a family to live in that cozy house.

“What?” she asked, addressing the quizzical expression that must have been on my face.

“Nothing.”

“You had this look in your eyes, like you were confused by what I said.”

“I guess I’m just intrigued by the certainty in your voice, like having a family is the only thing you want.”

“It’s not the only thing I want. But it’s one of the things I want most.”

I’d thought she was different from all the other women I met. Maybe she wasn’t.

She cocked her head slightly, picking up on my tone. “Let me guess. You’re one of those men who never wants to get married.”

“And you’re one of those women who has to get married.”

She shrugged. “I don’t have to get married. If it never happens, it never happens. But I want to meet the love of my life, fall madly in love, and sleep beside him for the rest of my life. If that makes me sound boring, I don’t care. If that makes me sound unoriginal, so be it. Marriage to the wrong man sounds terrifying. It could be a trap with no escape, a commitment to misery. I never want to be married for the sake of being married. There would be no point when a man can’t offer me something I can’t offer myself. But a marriage to the right man…sounds like the greatest experience.” She wrapped her fingers around the stem of her glass and brought her wine closer to her. “Think less of me for it. I don’t care. Just as I don’t think less of you for wanting to be a bachelor forever.”

“You don’t think less of me?” I asked, a note of surprise in my voice. “You aren’t going to tell me all of that will change when I meet the right woman?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Everyone is different. Not all of us are meant to spend our lives with one person. We’re wired differently. And the second we start making people feel strange for being different, we’re in the wrong. So if you want to be alone for the rest of your life, Cato, then be alone. If you don’t want a family, don’t have one.” She sipped her wine then licked her lips.

My mother always told me how she wanted Bates and me to marry. She said even if she’d known my father would run out on her, she would do it all again in a heartbeat. Having all the money in the world didn’t compare to sharing her heart with the two of us. She said I would never understand until I had children of my own. “Bates and I made a pact never to get married.”

“Married to each other?” she teased. “Good. I don’t have a problem with two men, but I have a problem with two brothers.”

The corner of my mouth rose in a smile. Now that we’d stopped discussing murder, she relaxed. She turned into her flirtatious and playful self. “In our world, we can’t trust anyone but each other. A bad marriage could affect the business. It could destroy our lives. Neither one of us wants kids, so marriage is unnecessary.”

“So, let me get this straight.” She grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass. “Marriage is off the table because of money?” She pushed the half-empty bottle back to the center of the table next to the candle. “Money has dictated your lives so greatly that you can’t enjoy anything else? That you can’t even share it with someone?” She spoke with emotion but not judgment. “I stand by what I said. Money is the root of all evil. Money destroys lives. It’s the monster that swallows happiness whole. There’re so many beautiful things in life that are financially intangible.”

“Only poor people say that.” It was an asshole comment to make, but it was the first thing that tumbled out of my mouth. I would never forget how cold it used to be on winter nights without the heater. I would never forget how raw my mother’s hands were from working in the cannery twelve hours a day. Money had saved my family—not destroyed it.

She didn’t show offense. “Wealth is supposed to give you advantages in life. But from what you’re describing, it sounds like it’s inhibiting you. You can’t go anywhere without thirty armed men protecting you. You can’t trust a woman to love you for you. Men all over the world are trying to infiltrate your ranks to trick you. You’re a prisoner—the walls of your cell, your own cash. I admire everything you’ve accomplished, but above all else, I pity you.” Her pretty green eyes bored into mine, and instead of harsh judgment, there really was pity.

No one had ever given me a look like that before. Women admired me. Men wanted to be me. My mother’s eyes beamed with such pride that it usually turned to tears. Everyone thought I had the world by a string—because I did. But not a single person spotted the loneliness, the emptiness, and the boredom.

No one had ever noticed what I hadn’t noticed myself.

Speechless, I held her gaze, thinking about those afternoons I smoked my cigar while hardly moving, reflecting on the moments I told my brother I was bored. He questioned my sanity. How could someone with so much power and wealth be bored? It was a question that didn’t have an answer. I never regretted everything I had or the sacrifices I made to achieve it, but it did seem like something was missing.

She didn’t display a victorious look in her eyes. She continued to stare at me like the conversation was continuing, just without words.

I forgot about my wine and everything else in the room around us. I was spending the evening with a beautiful woman, but my mind wasn’t on sex. It was the deepest conversation I’d ever had with another human being. Her intellect was dangerous, and her courage was even more startling. She was the only person in the world who didn’t care about the size of my wallet. Unintimidated, she treated me like I was anyone else. “We were very poor growing up. The kind of poor where going to the doctor was a luxury. My mother did hard labor to support us, shaving off years of her life so we could have food, clothes, and someplace safe to sleep. Ever since I could remember, I wanted to be rich. I never wanted to worry about my next meal, and I didn’t want my mother to have to put up with bullshit from other people. My ambition caught fire and never extinguished. Maybe money is evil, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her knowing look slowly faded and was replaced by an emotional gleam. “That’s inspiring.”

“The worst part of being poor is being powerless. You’re at the mercy of other people. People are far more evil than money, and they’ll take advantage of you when you’re down. By holding all the money, I have all the power. Maybe I sleep with one eye open, but I also control everything around me.”

“It seems to me you’re in the same situation as before, just in reverse. You have to work hard to maintain your stature because everyone wants to take it from you. There’s a middle ground you’re overlooking. You can be wealthy and secure, but also disappear from the public eye. You can have everything you need—without looking over your shoulder all the time.”

The only reason I was patient with her was because I knew her background. Money had obviously destroyed her family. Her father kept playing with fire until someone hit him where it hurt—by killing his wife. Siena had the wisdom to turn her back on that lifestyle and settle for peace. To her, there was no other option. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Is it?” The glow from the candles illuminated her features in the most beautiful way. Her emerald eyes reflected the white light, making them shine like Christmas ornaments in front of a fireplace. “Let me ask you one question. And you don’t have to give me an answer.”

Regardless of what her question was, I wouldn’t give her an answer.

She tilted her head slightly. “Are you happy, Cato?”

The definition of happiness was lost on me. My money made me feel secure. My power made me feel invincible. The women in my bed made me feel like a king. But happy…I wasn’t sure if I’d ever felt that before. The only thing close was seeing my mother comfortable and safe. Sometimes when I stopped by the house, I saw her tending to her garden, wearing a floppy sun hat as she got her hands dirty in the soil. She was at ease, reading by the window in the morning and then making me lemonade when I stopped by for a visit. Giving her a life she deserved was the only thing that ever made me feel anything. Everything else was just momentary highs. Making money was exhilarating, but after a few hours, the effect wore off. Making two women come before I finished ballooned my ego, but once the fun was over and we lay in bed, I was back to my calm coldness.

The answer was right in front of me.

No. I wasn’t happy.

We got into the back seat of my car.

“To the residence.” I hit the button and raised the shade between the driver and us. The summer sun had set, and Milan was illuminated with the brilliant lights from the historic buildings and churches. We could return to my plane and be home in an hour, but I wasn’t in the mood to finish the journey.

Siena turned to me, her legs crossed and her safety belt across her chest. “Where are we going?”

“To my place.” I wasn’t going to ask if that was okay with her. Her preferences didn’t matter.

“Aren’t you going to ask me first?”

I stared out the window. “No.”

She continued to stare at my side profile. “That’s rude.”

“You work for me, remember?”

“Yes, I work for you. But I’m not being paid to fuck you.”

I turned my face to her, noting the way she looked stunning regardless of the lighting. “After sitting across from you at dinner all night, the last thing I want to do is wait another hour and a half before I can get you on your back. I want to taste that red wine on your tongue. I want to remember how sweet your cunt tastes. I want to be balls deep inside you, fucking the woman who’s teased me all night with her beauty. Maybe I’m impatient, but I have every right to be impatient. Do you have a problem with that?”

Her hostility faded away as desire entered her gaze. The cues she gave were always subtle because she didn’t wear her feelings on her sleeve. She was too proud to be obvious, too respectable to be deciphered. But there were hints of her emotions in the subtle movements she made, the slight shift of her eyes when she tried to hide something.

When I didn’t get an answer, I forced her to give me one. “Do you?”

She cleared her throat. “No. I don’t have a problem with that.”

I owned a five-story building in Milan. After I’d bought it, the inside had been remodeled into a three-story home. The bottom two floors housed my security and weapons. We walked inside and took the elevator to the third floor.

Siena looked around as we stepped into the large living room. With hardwood floors, couches as soft as pillows, and a beautiful floor-to-ceiling window that showed the city, it was cozy like my place in Florence. I had many homes in different cities, and that was because it was the only way to truly guarantee my safety. All my homes were bulletproof. All of them were full of a security detail. My private property was the only way to control the situation. Going to a hotel or a public place made me vulnerable to an attack.

Besides, my homes were more luxurious than any hotel.

Siena slipped off her heels right away and left them in the middle of the floor. Now she was several inches shorter, but her confidence still projected her at an impressive height.

I headed to the bar. “Would you like a drink?”

“No.”

I turned back around and ignored the scotch calling my name. If she wanted to get right down to business, so did I. I walked over to her and saw the color rise in her cheeks. Her breathing had picked up, the intensity of our privacy rattling her. She faced me with the same confidence, but there was a hint of intensity that couldn’t be denied. She’d already slept with me, but it seemed like this was the first time again.

I pulled the paper out of my wallet and handed it to her.

She unfolded it and read through the results. Apparently, my word wasn’t good enough. She checked the name of the laboratory as well as the date before she handed it back. “I didn’t know we were going to do this now. I didn’t bring mine…”

“Your word is good enough.” I didn’t trust anyone. Any interaction I had with someone besides my brother was considered suspicious. Bates was the only person I could trust implicitly. But something about this woman made me step out of my comfort zone, made me take a chance I never would have taken with anyone else. All of this could be a stunt, but I didn’t believe it was. This woman seemed to be real, seemed to be scarred by wealth and power. She wanted nothing to do with my money or connections. All she wanted was a job—and a good lay.

“You’ve never asked me about birth control.”

I grabbed her wrist and turned her arm, revealing the slight scar on the inside of her upper arm. She had an implant inserted there some time ago. It had healed, but she would have those marks for the rest of her life. Other types of birth control were impossible to detect, unless I saw a woman take a pill every day. But this was obvious. I released her arm then moved to the back of her dress. My fingers found the zipper at the nape of her neck, and I slowly pulled it down, revealing the gorgeous skin along her spine. She was so thin I could see the small bones jut out underneath the skin. Her slender muscles shifted slightly as she breathed, and the most beautiful bumps emerged over her beautiful skin.

The zipper stopped at the top of her ass, and that’s when the dress came free. It fell to the floor at her feet, leaving her in a black thong that contrasted against the fair skin of her gorgeous ass.

Something I’d noticed before but never paid attention to was the scar on her right shoulder. I’d pulled the trigger enough times to recognize exactly what it was—a bullet wound. She’d been shot—and the bullet passed clean through. It’d been stitched up and healed nicely, but the distinct scar was impossible to miss. The injury told a story, a story she hadn’t confided in me. My curiosity wanted answers, and I imagined she’d received this wound years ago when she was on speaking terms with her father. Perhaps her mother had been murdered and Siena was the next victim on the list—but she escaped.

I hooked my hands under her arms and squeezed her perky tits as I pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. My crotch pressed right against her ass, and my cock pushed against the fly of my jeans. My lips cherished her neck and kissed the shell of her ear. My hands continued to grope her beautiful tits, feeling the nipples harden under my ministrations. Her breathing picked up, and so did mine. “I can’t wait to fuck you.” I’d never been with a woman without a condom. I’d never felt bare pussy before. Even when I lost my virginity, it was with a rubber. But now I was about to feel this beautiful woman so intimately. She already felt amazing with a condom. She would feel even better when it was just the two of us.

She reached her fingers down to her panties, and she pushed them over her ass and to her thighs. They fell the rest of the way and landed around her ankles.

I kissed her left shoulder and sank my teeth into the skin gently. My tongue caressed her, and my breathing filled the space around us. My cock was anxious to be free of the restraints of my jeans, and I was eager to deliver my come deep inside that pretty little cunt.

She turned around, heat in her eyes and desperation in her hands. She pulled my shirt over my head then unfastened my jeans. Her eyes took in my physical perfection, her fingertips feeling the grooves between the muscles and the hardness of my chest. Every time she looked at me when I was naked, she wore that same look, turning into a sex heathen who couldn’t wait to enjoy me. All women looked at me like that, but it seemed like she really meant it.

She pushed my jeans down with my boxers, sinking to her knees in the process. Her lips found my length, and she kissed him with full desire, worshiping my dick like it was God’s gift to women. She sucked my balls into her mouth then dragged her tongue up my length before she took him deep into her throat. She closed her eyes and moaned, as if sucking my dick was nothing but a pleasure.

No woman had ever sucked my dick so well.

She moved back to her feet, carefully sliding my dick through her sexy cleavage on the way up. She used my forearms for balance, relying on my strength as an anchor to move back to a standing position.

I could lift her into my arms and carry her into a bedroom, but my hand swept deep into her hair and I tilted her chin back so I could kiss her. It was a slow kiss, full of warm breaths and gentle tugs with our lips. My eyes studied her mouth as my fingers fisted her hair hard. I yanked her into me and kissed her again, my tongue greeting hers sensually. I could be fucking her right now, but this arousing kiss seemed to be enough. For once, I wasn’t in a hurry to fuck. I wasn’t in a rush to hit the finish line. All I wanted was this, this sense that time was standing still.

Her hands explored my chest as she kissed me back, feeling the rock-hard slabs of muscle and the firm biceps of my arms. Her fingers moved down until they wrapped around my length. She squeezed it hard then ran her thumb across the tip of the crown, collecting the drop that beaded at the surface. “I’ve never let a man come inside me before.” She looked up at me with smeared lipstick across her mouth and desire deep in her eyes. My dick was still in her hands as she smothered him with her experienced touch.

My cock immediately twitched when her words registered in my brain. Now I wanted her even more, to give her so much come that she wouldn’t be able to hold it all. It would make a mess across the sheets, and if she got up in the middle of the night, it would drip down the inside of her thighs. Once it was all gone, I would just give her more.

I scooped my hands under her ass and carried her down the hallway. She was light as a feather and soft as a rose petal. My eyes stayed locked with hers as I carried her into a bedroom. I knew exactly how I wanted to fuck her, how I wanted to take my time and enjoy that smooth cunt. I laid her on the bed with her head against the pillow then moved between her legs. My knees separated her thighs and kept her wide open so my enormous dick could pierce those pussy lips. I hooked my arms behind her knees, and I held my face close to hers, my dick twitching in expectation.

She breathed hard even though she hadn’t felt me yet. Her nails dug into my biceps, and she moaned in my face, as if the anticipation was just as good as the real thing. “Don’t make me wait…”

I pressed my crown between her pussy lips and pushed inside, feeling the squeeze of her cunt as I slowly sank into her warm flesh. She was wet and smooth, even wetter than the last time I had her. Bare pussy was the greatest sensation in the world. Nothing had ever made me feel more like a man. All the money and power in the world couldn’t compare to this feeling. I released a moan that sounded like a growl and kept sinking, enjoying every inch even more than the last. “Fuck.” I slid in deep until there was nowhere else to go. My balls rested against her asshole, and I felt my entire body shiver with ecstasy. It was so wet, so tight, so fucking good.

I couldn’t use a condom ever again.

I locked eyes with her, seeing this beautiful woman spread wide apart so she could take my big dick. I wanted to fuck her like this all night, give her mounds of my come until she was too sore to take me.

Her fingers moved into my hair. “I’m already gonna come…” Her pussy throbbed around me confirming her confession was true. A woman had never wanted me so much, so deeply. They wanted to be fucked good and hard, but Siena had a different look in her eyes. Maybe it was because it was just the two of us and she didn’t have to share me with anyone else.

I started to thrust inside her, shoving my dick deep until I pulled my crown to the entrance of her lips. Her wetness smeared my entire shaft and even collected at my balls. There was cream as well because her pussy was producing everything to accommodate my big dick.

I didn’t even fuck her hard or fast. I just moved slowly, took my time, and enjoyed it. I enjoyed this woman’s cunt like it was the most priceless thing on the planet. I would have paid a billion dollars to fuck it, to coat my dick in her sexy cream.

She made good on her word and came. “Yes…” Her pussy clenched me like an iron fist, and she looked into my eyes, showing a raging fire. Her soft fingers unleashed their nails, and she clawed at me like a tiger. “God…yes.” Her cunt gripped me a little harder then released, her climax passing.

As a man with something to prove, I wanted to keep going. I wanted to send her into another climax that would bring tears to her eyes. But all I could think about was coming inside that pussy, pumping all my seed inside this woman.

She grabbed my ass and yanked me inside her, her legs wide open. “Come inside me, Cato.” Her nails sliced into my skin. “I want to feel your come as you keep fucking me.” She breathed in my face with her sexy moans, her legs spread and her pussy so slick.

“Fuck.” I pounded into her and smacked the headboard against the wall. The rhythmic sound echoed like a steel drum. I pushed hard and felt the explosion start deep within me, a visceral pleasure that set every nerve on fire. It sank down into my balls, a fiery goodness that made all the muscles of my back tighten around my spine. Then the seed exploded out of my dick, giving me the kind of ecstasy that could make my knees buckle underneath me. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I impaled her with my dick and released all the way inside her, my ass tightening as the convulsions rocked my body. It was my first time combining my come with a woman’s, and now I couldn’t imagine any other way.

The climax seemed to last forever. It wasn’t a quick jolt of pleasure like it usually was. As if the sensation was on repeat, it just kept going and going. My dick twitched as it finished inside her, and instead of softening, I was still rock-hard. That fuck was so good, but I wasn’t close to being done. I started to thrust again, my come mixing with her cream as it coated my dick.

She gripped my ass and rocked back with me. “Cato…that feels so good.”

My cock slid through the hot wetness between us. So much slickness, so much come existed between the two of us. My cock was buried in the nicest pussy it’d ever met, and the last thing it wanted was another pussy to fuck. Why would I want two women when this single cunt was more than I could handle? “Let’s see how much come this cunt can take.”