Chapter 14

Saturday, five o’clock pm, and I’m getting ready for Sandra’s dinner party. Of course, Sandra has no idea about my night with Alex – and I plan on keeping that way, for now.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, summoning my energy for the dinner party. I appreciate Sandra’s concern and completely understand her wanting introduce me to other people. But the truth is, I wasn’t interested. Not anymore. Not after last night. Alex and I have something between us. Where it’s leading, I don’t know, but I want to find out.

I tell myself to just go and have a good time. Alex and I had an incredible night, for sure. But, we have no commitment to each other, no promises to one another. For all I know, he could be out banging some other woman at this very moment. And given his reputation, it wouldn’t be that surprising if he was. I shake my head, trying not to think about it.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that going out and meeting some new people is what I need. Best to keep my options open, I decide, sighing deeply. This was not going to be easy.

I arrive at the party an hour later, smiling, putting my best foot forward. “Hello!” Sandra greets me warmly. We exchange hugs and quick pecks on each cheek. “You look great,” she says.

“Thank you, so do you,” I reply.

“Katherine, this is Harry,” Sandra says, pulling Harry towards her.

“Hello, so nice to meet you,” I say to him, extending my hand.

“And you, too. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Harry replies, smiling broadly, shaking my hand. Harry has an easy smile, and a warm likeableness to him, much like Sandra. They make a nice couple, and I can see that Harry adores her.

“Would you like a drink?” Sandra asks after introducing me to a few people.

“Sure,” I reply. We walk to the bar, and Sandra pours me a glass of white wine. “There’s Dean,” she whispers, nodding towards him. I look over my shoulder and see a nicely dressed man, average height and built, light brown hair, conversing with another party goer. He looks nice.

“Dean,” Sandra calls out to him. “Come over here, I want you to meet someone.” Dean obliges and walks towards me.

“Dean, this is Katherine,” Sandra says, introducing us, loving every minute of this. I make a mental note to later tell Sandra she should reconsider her career choice and perhaps go into the matchmaking business.

“Hello, Katherine,” Dean replies, smiling. He looks to be around thirty, nice smile, cute dimples.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” I respond, smiling politely.

Dean and I chat for the next hour, with Dean chatting mostly about himself. I learn more than I ever thought I would about the fascinating world of computer programming. I nod and sigh inwardly, letting my mind drift. Thoughts of Alex enter my mind, images of last night flashing in vivid color. Who am I kidding? I think to myself. Meeting new people?? Please. Try as I might to tell myself otherwise, I’m not interested in meeting anyone else. I’ve never met anyone like Alex. I’ve never met any man that makes me feel the way he does. I can still feel his hands all over my body, his smell, the way his cock feels deep inside my pussy. I can feel myself getting wet just thinking about him.

“Katherine?” Sandra’s voice interrupts my sexy thoughts, and I snap to attention.

“Yeah?” I respond, pushing any thoughts of Alex away for the moment.

“Are you okay? You seem a bit distracted,” she says, frowning.

“I’m fine.” I pause. “Well, actually, I’m feeling a little tired. I think I’ll be going soon, if you don’t mind.”

Sandra raises an eyebrow. “Oh, okay.” She eyes me suspiciously.

“Thank you for everything, it was a wonderful party,” I tell her, giving her a warm hug. I gather my things, wave goodbye to Harry, and make my exit. I feel kind of guilty for not enjoying Sandra’s party as much as I should.

Still, a rush of relief washes over me as I climb into a cab, heading for home, my thoughts instantly returning to Alex.

Naples, Italy, Present day

Sergio Rossi lay on his back, looking up at the woman bouncing up and down on him, her beautiful breasts in front of his face. He pulls her down to suck on one of her delicious nipples, while pinching the other. This causes her to moan with pleasure, sending her over the edge, screaming as she finds sweet release. Sergio liked it when women screamed during orgasm, it made him feel like he had total control over them. Sergio liked having control in all things.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded to the woman, in his thick Italian accent. She did as she was told, still catching her breath.

Sergio stood in front of her, his ten-inch cock rock hard and ready. Sergio held his cock and begin caressing the woman’s face with it, slowly, painting his sticky white pre-come all over her face. Sergio then took his cock and slapped her face with it, hard, on each side of her cheek. He enjoyed this immensely – the sound of flesh smacking against flesh - it was his version of foreplay. Without warning, he grabs the back of her head, stuffing his huge cock into her mouth, slamming it all the way to the back, causing her to gag. Firmly holding her head, he pulls back, and does this a couple more times, each time causing her to gag.

“Yessss,” he hissed through clenched teeth. The sound of the woman gagging on him was like music to his ears. “Suck it, mia bella,” he said, fucking her mouth, fast and hard. He explodes in her mouth, his fingers digging into her scalp.

They fall asleep on Sergio’s sumptuous, king-size bed. Later, he gets up, the woman still sound asleep, her breathing slow and steady. He looks at her, her long, dark curls spread around her face. Sergio enjoyed fucking Caprice Belmonte. She had the most gorgeous tits he’d ever laid eyes on, small waist, with long, dark curly hair. Very sexy. Not to mention incredible cock-sucking abilities. And she liked it rough. Of course, Caprice liked whatever Sergio told her to like. He was the man, after all. He took care of Caprice, paid her monthly expenses, as well as giving her a generous monthly allowance. As far as Sergio was concerned, he owned Caprice, and as such, he could do with her and to her as he pleased. Or so he thought.

He went to the bathroom, took a gulp of water from the sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror. Everyone said Sergio looked just like his father – jet black hair, dark complexion, with burning black eyes. Sergio wouldn’t know – he never knew his father, Vincent Rossi. Sergio only knew about him from the stories his mother told him, or tales from the older men who worked for his father many years ago. Sergio had only vague memories of his father, memories that would come back to him, and then suddenly drift away, like mist rising from water. He was three years old when his father left, abandoning him and his mother. Sergio’s mother assured him that his father did what he had to do in order to stay alive, and that one day, he would return to Naples, return home to his family. The years passed, and still no sign of his father. Until one day, Sergio and his mother were told of his father’s murder in London, England. His mother collapsed. Sergio felt nothing but rage.

He was twenty-four years old when he learned of his father’s murder. Sergio began planning and plotting to avenge his father’s death. Sergio, just like his father, had joined the ranks of the Mafia – the apple not falling far from the tree – and was just as ruthless and violent. Even more so than Vincent. Sergio stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. He was a feared man, the head boss of a Mafia gang with connections all over the world, politicians bought and paid for, and huge cash flows of money from an array of illegal activities.

But what Sergio wanted most, more than anything, was to kill Alex McCall - the man who killed his father. The man who had forced Sergio to grow up without a father. Alex McCall would pay dearly. Sergio would not rest until he was dead. He had hired someone who knew what he was doing – someone who had the special skills it required to take Alex McCall out. Now, he would sit back and wait. Wait until the son-of-a-bitch was dead.

Caprice Belmonte strolled along the streets of Naples, her skin-tight Versace dress leaving little to the imagination. Every man turned and stared as she walked along, knowing full well the impact she had on them. At 5’8”, with long, dark hair, beautiful brown almond-shaped eyes, and a killer body, Caprice was not a woman to overlook. She prowled, like a panther, in pursuit of her prey.

Caprice enjoyed the attention she received from men, and sometimes women. The looks, the stares – it made her feel confident. She learned at an early age that people were going to stare at her, whether she liked it or not, so she might as well like it. And she did.

By the time she was nineteen, Caprice had developed into devastatingly gorgeous woman, easily passing for twenty-five. She possessed a dark, smoldering beauty, full lips, and a pair of the most beautiful breasts that could give any man a heart attack. At twenty-one, Caprice realized she could capitalize on her beauty and earn quite a nice living by showing off her spectacular body. Armed with a mind for business and a body for sin, she began a career as a stripper. She started out in a sleazy back alley joint, Franco’s, which was managed by a fat German man and his wife. Most of the patrons were manual labor-types or desperate losers. However sleazy and run-down the place was, she made a lot of money, more money than she knew what to do with. Caprice worked there for awhile, gaining experience, then eventually moved on to other, higher class strip clubs in Naples.

Now, at age twenty-three, Caprice worked at Bellisimo’s, the most exclusive gentlemen’s club in Naples, catering to wealthy, powerful businessmen. It was there that she caught the eye of Sergio Rossi, owner of the club. He was immediately entranced by Caprice and knew he had to have her. At first, Caprice rebuffed his advances, smiling coyly, tossing her long dark hair, while strutting her stuff on stage, but always refusing his offers of dates and trips to the Alps. Caprice, too, knew what she wanted, but also knew from experience to play it cool, and to always make them work for it. Especially with a man like Sergio who was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted. Her strategy paid off – after three months of refusing him, Caprice finally agreed to have dinner with Sergio. Two days later, she was living in his house. Well, some of the time. Caprice was smart enough to know that it was in her best interest to keep her own apartment, just in case.

Caprice knew Sergio was the boss of a very powerful Mafia family and was aware of his various “business activities.” This didn’t bother Caprice in the slightest. In fact, it turned her on. Caprice loved bad boys, and Sergio was certainly a bad boy. Very bad. She had overheard conversations between Sergio and his men, secretly listened to their plots and schemes, and knew where a lot of the money came from and where it was hidden. You see, Caprice had brains underneath her beauty. She listened, gathered information, and filed it away – for a rainy day.