Bound to the Ruthless Don

Four—-Luca

Luca

In lacy red lingerie that left nothing to the imagination, Allesandro knelt between my knees. The flimsy netting barely covered her breasts, her hardened n*****s visible beneath. The see-through thong had a slit underneath, designed so I could take her without removing it. A garter, held up by matching lace, clung to her thighs.

She unzipped my trousers, freeing my already hardened c**k, and licked a slow line from my balls to the tip before taking me fully into her mouth. She moaned throatily, like the w***e she is, her throat working to swallow me deeper. She kept her gaze locked on mine, her hands massaging my balls as she tried to take me all the way in.

It feels good. But Allesandro is starting to get too clingy. Too needy.

The only reason I keep her around is her throat and the fact that she’s flexible as f**k but lately, she’s been trying to get information out of my men. And it’s starting to piss me off. I tried focusing on her, but Isla’s auburn curls, her bright blue eyes, her perfect Cupid’s bow lips—they kept popping into my mind.

Allesandro kept making sloppy noises. A distraction, a f*****g annoyance.

I could have her killed, of course. But she’s one of my best undercover agents. She seduces and eliminates targets better than most. Still, her recent behavior, her constant pushing, her suggestion that I get rid of Isla doesn’t sit well with me. And not because she sees Isla as competition. She’s starting to catch feelings, and I don’t do feelings.

As if I would ever make her my queen.

Allesandro is a good f**k. A useful one. But a queen? No. An undercover agent is never loyal to one side, and I don’t trust a woman who lives on deception. I’ve seen her bullying some of my subs at my clubs when she thinks I’m not watching. I never promised her a relationship, only a temporary position in my bed, and she plays her submissive role perfectly. But now, she’s taking it too close to home. Just like today’s attack.

Too personal. Too close to home.

It was too clean, too well-planned. My mansion gates and front door riddled with bullets. My security cameras disabled, emergency alarms cut. Fifteen of my men, all poisoned with injections at the back of their necks. And yet, they didn’t steal anything.

Just left a single message.

“I don’t know anything, I swear! We were just ordered to attack without killing you personally!”

The fourth guy we captured sobbed, his right cheek melting away as acid ate through his flesh. He wasn’t lying.

The last one—tied upside down, naked—stayed silent.

I flipped off the water heater, grabbed the kettle, and walked toward him. He cackled, but I caught the twitch in his eye. He saw what I had in my hand. His face blanched.

I tipped the kettle.

He screamed.

A cloth was shoved into his mouth, muffling the sound. He almost passed out, but a sharp whip across his midriff jerked him back.

This time, when the cloth was removed, he cried, all traces of earlier bravado gone.

“Front pocket. My trousers. That’s all I know.”

Pike rummaged through his pants, pulling out a small object wrapped in a bloodstained white handkerchief.

A chess piece.

A white queen, stained dark with dried blood.

Pike wiped it clean before handing it to me, but the stains wouldn’t come off completely.

“That’s all they dropped for me, along with your house address. They told me to leave you alive.”

The hot water had done its job. His skin was an angry, blistered mess, deep red where the heat had kissed lightly, pale and peeling where it had sunk in deep. Clear fluid leaked from torn blisters, trailing down in trembling lines. In some places, the flesh had already started curling away, exposing raw, tender layers beneath.

Ugly. Painful. Permanent.

I let my gaze linger on his shaking body.

“My life is nobody’s decision to make.”

That’s the mistake they all keep making.

I’m alive because I’m careful. Because I don’t leave my fate in the hands of others. And whoever sent them? A coward.

I put a bullet between his eyes.

Someone wants me alive. Someone is leaving messages. But for who? Me? Or can it possibly be Isla’s attackers?

I turned the chess piece between my fingers. The blood had dried, but its meaning was still unclear.

###

Orsini took a long swig from the wine bottle, tapping the chess piece against the edge of the table.

“You really don’t know what it means?”

I stared at him. My maternal uncle. My self-appointed godfather. Orsini should have been the Don of the Irish, but he chose his wife over the title, passing it to his younger brother. He has no stomach for bloodshed, though his father was one of the most sadistic men I’ve ever known.

But he’s sharp. Too sharp. He connects dots faster than most.

“This piece signifies a woman in power. Do you have any female enemies looking to get bloody with you?”

I let out a dry laugh. “I have enemies of all genders, Uncle. And plenty of people want to get bloody with me.” He smirked, but his expression shifted as he inspected the piece closer.

“Then again… it could mean your queen is the one getting bloodied.”

His words settled like a slow poison in my veins.

“Have you decided on a queen?”

I took the chess piece from him.

“You’ll be the first to know.”

Orsini nodded, taking two more bottles of my rarest wine as he stood to leave. I didn’t stop him. Didn’t warn him.

I should have, but I didn’t know. And rarely do I miss out on threats.

Because the moment we got outside and he stepped into his car, it exploded. Flames shot into the sky. The shockwave rattled my bones. The heat licked at my skin.

An attack on my home.

An attack on my family.

On the same day.

Whoever this is, they just signed their death warrant.

###

I watched Isla through the secret cameras in her room. She stood by the window, still in the same clothes she wore to breakfast.

She heard the bullets.

She heard the explosion.

She knows what kind of world she’s trapped in now.

I should be focusing on the traitors among my men. I should be comforting Aunty Khristie. Instead, my hands are itching to pull Isla into my arms. To reassure her that nothing will touch her as long as I’m alive.

I won’t say it.

Not yet.

Instead, I texted my man tailing David.

Still nothing. No dirt on him. No evidence he was involved in Isla’s kidnapping. But something about the timing is off. And I have a bad feeling it’s about to get worse.

###

I pulled her blonde hair back, f*****g her throat angrily, channeling all my pent-up rage into her mouth. She swallowed every drop, licking her lips like she’d just finished ice cream.

Then she turned, crawling onto all fours, hands behind her, begging to be tied. Her ass was high in the air, her p***y glistening, already soaked.

I pulled out protection, holding her neck tight—just enough to let her know I could snap it if I wanted to as I slipped into her.

Her moans grew louder. Annoying.

I pushed her off, ripping the condom off and buckling my pants.

“Get out.”

She froze, eyes wide. She’d never heard those words before.

“What did I do wrong, Master?” She purred submissively, but her eyes were questioning.

I grabbed my phone, and Pike stepped into the room.

“Take her away. Don’t let her leave her room.”

Pike entered almost immediately and grabbed her. Allesandro yanked her arm free, adjusting her lingerie with as much dignity as she could muster. She threw on her robe, glaring openly at me before storming out.

She doesn’t know it yet.

But her days are numbered