Tempting The Mafia Don

3

Cristiano POV

The penthouse office overlooking Naples’ glittering bay was silent except for the low hum of the city below. I stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, a glass of aged scotch in my hand, the liquid burning a familiar path down my throat. At forty-two, I had learned to trust only two things: power and control. Everything else was a liability.

Yet the Russo sisters were testing both.

Valentina first. Bold, seductive, twenty-six years old with a body made for sin and a mouth that promised trouble. At the charity gala, she had approached me like a predator, those dark eyes locked on mine, red lips curving with pure confidence. Her red dress had clung to full breasts and hips that swayed with every step. When she spoke, her voice dripped honey and challenge. I like dangerous. The words still echoed. I had imagined bending her over the nearest table, shoving that slit high up her thigh wider, and burying myself deep until she screamed my name. Raw. Uncontrolled.

Then Bianca. Quieter, but no less dangerous. Two nights ago at the business mixer, I had stepped in when that fool Gallo put his hands on her. The way her cheeks flushed when I draped my jacket over her shoulders… the way her breath hitched. Modest black dress stained with wine, but it couldn’t hide the swell of her breasts or the way her n*****s peaked against the fabric. She trembled, but not from fear. From want. I had caught the scent of her arousal, faint but unmistakable. Sweet. Addictive. I wanted to peel that dress off her slowly, spread her legs in my bed, and taste how wet she got for a man like me.

Both sisters. Flirting. Hunting.

I had noticed it clearly over the past few days. Valentina sent messages through mutual contactssubtle invitations to private dinners. Bianca had returned my jacket personally yesterday, her fingers brushing mine longer than necessary, those intelligent eyes holding mine with quiet intensity. They were competing, even if they didn’t say it outright. Sisters chasing the same devil.

And f**k, I wanted them both.

I downed the rest of the scotch. My c**k twitched at the thoughtValentina’s fiery passion clashing with Bianca’s manipulative sweetness. Taking them together, one riding my face while the other rode my c**k, their bodies pressed close, moans mingling. Dangerous thoughts. Reckless.

I set the glass down hard. No. I would stay away.

The Moretti Syndicate was expanding into new territories. Deals with the Rossi family depended on this engagement. Isabella Rossi was a suitable matchbeautiful enough, connected, and cold like me. No messy emotions. No distractions. The Russo sisters, with their ambition and fire, were complications I couldn’t afford. One slip, and rivals would smell weakness. Blood would spill.

My phone buzzed. Marco, my underboss.

“It’s done,” he said when I answered. “The announcement goes live in thirty minutes. Papers, social channels, the works. Congratulations, boss.”

I grunted and hung up. The engagement was public now. A shield. A warning.

I should have felt nothing. Instead, irritation crawled under my skin.

The next evening, I attended a small reception at a waterfront villa/neutral ground for a few key players. I hadn’t planned to see them, but there they were.

Valentina arrived first, in a tight emerald dress that made her legs look endless and her breasts strain against the fabric. She spotted me immediately, sauntering over with that fearless smile.

“Cristiano,” she purred, using my first name like we were already lovers. “You look powerful as always. Celebrating anything special tonight?”

Her hand brushed my arm. Heat shot straight to my groin. I could smell her perfume jasmine and sin. I pictured shoving her into the nearest private room, ripping that dress down, and sucking those hard n*****s until she begged.

Before I could respond, Bianca appeared at her sister’s side. Black silk this time, elegant and clinging in all the right places. Her eyes flicked to Valentina, then to me, soft but burning underneath.

“Don Moretti,” she said quietly, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thank you again for the other night. Your jacket still carries your scent.”

Valentina’s eyes narrowed slightly at her sister’s words. Competition. Open now.

I kept my face cold, even as my body reacted. Both of them here, flirting in their different waysValentina bold and direct, Bianca subtle and deep. My c**k hardened painfully against my zipper. I wanted to claim them. Bend Valentina over and f**k her rough while Bianca watched, then switch and make the quiet one scream.

But I stepped back.

“Ladies,” I said, voice flat. “Enjoy the evening.”

I turned away, ignoring the flash of disappointment in their eyes. Control. I had to maintain control.

Later, as guests mingled, the announcement hit. Phones lit up. Murmurs spread like wildfire.

“Did you hear? Cristiano Moretti and Isabella Rossi…”

The room buzzed. I watched Valentina’s face from across the space. Her smile faltered for a split second before she recovered, lifting her chin higher. Bianca went very still, her fingers tightening around her glass. Something dark flickered in her eyesobsession, jealousy, determination. It should have warned me. Instead, it made my blood run hotter.

Isabella arrived shortly after, slipping her arm through mine for the cameras. She was polished, elegant, empty. I felt nothing as photographers flashed. This was the deal. Power secured.

But my gaze kept drifting. Valentina laughed a little too loudly nearby, drawing eyes, her body language screaming choose me. Bianca stayed quieter, but every time I looked, she was watching. Intense. Calculating. The kind of obsession that could ruin empires if ignored.

I excused myself and stepped onto the terrace, lighting a cigar. The sea air did nothing to cool the fire in my veins.

Stay away, I told myself. They were trouble. Beautiful, seductive trouble. f*****g oneor bothwould ignite a war between sisters and expose cracks in my armor. The syndicate came first. The engagement was public now. A done deal.

Yet as I smoked, I couldn’t stop imagining it. Valentina on her knees, those red lips wrapped around my c**k while Bianca whispered filthy encouragements in my ear. Their bodies intertwined with mine, sweat-slick and desperate. Pure passion. Raw lust.

I crushed the cigar out.

No. I would stay away. Distance was the only safe play.

But deep down, I already knew the Russo sisters wouldn’t make it easy. And a dark part of the devil in me didn't want them to.