Mr. Mafia's Perfect Bride

Rylan's POV

'May your blood paint winter snow. Merry Christmas, Don.'

I could feel the hint of ridicule in the tone as I read the cryptic text on my phone, getting mixed reactions.

First, this was sent to my private number, which meant that danger was imminent.

"Rylan, are you okay?"

Thane's voice took me off my phone.

Slipping it back into my pocket so that he wouldn't get a clue about what seemed to bother me, I flashed a fake smile at him.

"What?"

"We have the traitor."

He tilted down and whispered.

"Bring him here."

My cold voice echoed in the night sky.

"Si."

He nodded and vanished.

We were in a car park beside the casino. The deemed headlamps of my car were almost the only source of light.

Thane returned with the company of two guards, as they dragged a man with tape over his lips. They pressed down on his shoulders, causing him to kneel before me.

"Hmm."

He murmured inaudibly and rubbed his hands in a desperate plea. Terror gripped him like a vice.

"You know what happens when you steal from me."

A guard peeled the tape off his lips and he cried in agonizing pain.

"Don. I'm sor-"

He choked on his words, getting a glimpse of my stern face. The heck, I hate those words.

"My babies."

The guards left to bring them to me, while Thane remained by my side.

"They're complete, Don."

One of them informed me after counting the bags of coke in a crate. He opened a wrap for me. I took a pinch and tasted.

"Good."

Smack!

I bashed his face with my balled fist, having hefty gold rings on each knuckle.

"This is for messing with me."

He groaned, his lips busted, and his nose broken.

"Don-"

A bullet to his head left him with an open skull, causing a fine mix of his brains and blood to seep out of the broken bones.

Taking out a white handkerchief from the pocket of my pants, I brushed off the stains of blood on my knuckles and dumped it on his body where it formed a nasty heap.

"Clean it up."

Leaving Thane to fix the mess, I strolled down to 'De Russo's Casino'. My father handed it over to me once he retired.

Neo-blue light, well-erected bar with expensive liquors of limited editions, game area. It's exquisite, to say the least, built for the elites in New York.

The air reeked of stale cigarette smoke, expensive perfume, and desperation. It pulsed with the rhythmic din of clinking glasses, muted laughter, and the incessant beep of slot machines.

"Here."

A guard opened the case of my mint-scented cigar. I stuck the edge at the corner of my mouth and clamped down with my lips.

He flicked the lighter and lit the end of it.

"The VIPs, are they-"

My tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth when I caught sight of a petite red-haired by the bar, innocent, I must say. She didn't reek of wildness, like the ladies found in the casino.

"Don?"

He called out to me and stopped when he trailed my gaze, pinning it on the lady.

"Who's she?"

"A stray." He mumbled.

She had to be. This was no place for her kind.

"Don Russo!"

Mr. Vincente hailed from the poker room.

Carefree, his short frame was in a too-tight black garment that made his big stomach poke out.

He had bundles of clean bills stacked in one hand, and a thick glass of liquor and ice in the other.

"How's the night going?"

A creepy smirk creased my lips.

"About to whoop these jerks."

He chuckled, a dry laughter void of hope.

Stake millions and lose in a minute. That was his routine. It was a good thing he was stinkyly rich.

The dealers cared less, as they hunched over the tables and shuffled their cards with speed and stealth.

"When am I getting my goods?"

He adjusted closer to me even though every damn man in the room was diabolical.

"I'll text you the address for delivery."

He sniffed. "None of the bags should be tampered with."

On and on, he bluffed.

"And my ladies, just how I like them."

Slim. Blonde. Wild.

"Covered."

He grinned, too rotten for his age.

"I have a feeling that Santa has got plans this Christmas."

"Hmm." I just mumbled, preying on the red-haired petite at the bar.

"A tempting snack, huh?"

He scoffed, following past the thick cloud of smoke from my cigar, and landed his eyes on the lady.

"Every man here thinks so too."

Oddly, I felt a gut-wrenching blow in my chest, with my heart twisting against itself.

I can't tell if it's the irritation of this old man going beyond his limit, or that I want a taste of her too.

"I like her."

He slurped from his glass.

My fists clenched beside me, in the desperate need to jump on him.

"Your ladies, they'd be more than glad to have you."

Thane surfaced, strolling towards me. He knew the game like the back of his palm, and he was like a son to my father.

Getting my eye signal, he came to my rescue and kept Vicente engaged.

Free, I walked past the crew clustered on a roulette wheel, as they spun it, immersed in the game.

"You should leave."

She turned to look at me, her pair of deep blue eyes... too damn seductive.

Suddenly, she giggled and swept my features at a glance.

I let her have a second glance at my charm; tall, sexy, and firmly built in a bodycum shirt and tight pants.

"You're too cocky for your face."

I scoffed, my ego dashed in pieces.

"Tell a better lie."

Instead, she signaled the waitress for another shot. In front of her, she had about five, six, or even more.

"Fuck off, mister."

Clenched jaws, I walked closer, encroaching into her personal space.

A strong wave of her alluring perfume wafted into my nostrils, and my eyes closed on their own accord, with me taking deep breaths.

Her hair curled around my fingers, with her gasping for air as I screwed her brains out.

Damn it! I snapped out of my vivid imaginations.

She smelled of class and luxury. Definitely from the old money class.

"So you know, you're just as bland."

I smirked.

Anger flickered in her long stare. "You're just bitter and annoying."

She looked damn sexy with those cherry-bloom lips pouting.

Holy crap!

"And you should not be here."

"Why? You think I'm not as hot or wild for this place?"

She groaned. "You all are dead wrong?"

"Hmm."

Pushing closer, I leaned on the well-polished surface until my breath was warm on her skin.

"Wild enough?"

Standing upright, I sauntered past the club and outside the casino.

A shadow lingered, with messy curls. Her sweet smell returned.

"Be warned..."

She didn't let me finish when she hauled herself at me, smacking me against the body of my limo.

I can't tell if she was this desperate to prove a dare, or just too horny to think straight.

Right now, all that mattered was fucking her to repentance.

Slowly, she toyed with the strap of her shirt, and let it down, giving me a good peek of her breasts.

Taking down the second strap, her shirt came off, revealing her voluptuous boobs. She was bare, not with the tiniest fabric beneath.

I pulled her to myself and flipped her with ease, pressing her to the car, with her ass pushing against my hardness.

"What are you wearing beneath?" My tone was raspy.

She chuckled and pushed backward, teasing my cock between her butt crack, her high school girlie skirt parting with ease.

"Nothing."

Going wild with arousal, one hand clutched around her throat, keeping her as my prisoner.

The other wandered down her frame, grazing her breasts, as I took them in my hands, sizing the watermelons one at a time.

"So soft."

I loved the feel of them on my coarse palms.

Trailing down her belly button, I grabbed a handful of her skirt, and slipped in, teasing in between her thighs.

Sticky fluid dripped on my fingers.

Fuck!

"Ah!"

A loud moan escaped her lips when I thrust in a finger.

She threw her head backward and groaned in pain, causing my grip on her to loosen.

"You're a virgin?"

She swallowed, her throat bulbed. "Don't stop, please."

Her frail voice beckoned.

"I'll hurt you and..."

"Please, take me, sir."

Drunk with her order, I hastily guide her into the back seat of my car, more needy than she could imagine.

Like butter, she laid on the leather seat, spreading apart for my penetration.

My pants came down with ease, and I gently leveled on her, leaning casually on my elbows.

"Ah."

She moaned when I slipped in a finger, but this time, not so loud.

Teasing her soft pink cunt, my too-big-a-finger fucked her.

"Hmm." Her groan oddly consumed me.

"It will hurt a little."

I mumbled against her soft skin.

Damn it, it will hurt so bad.

Smearing saliva on my hand, I lubricated my cock, stroking the hard grid.

Gently, I pushed in, causing her to adjust beneath me.

"Oh, god."

She groaned, stilling a cry.

I've never been this gentle with a woman. Never been this scared that I'd hurt them.

She was too delicate... Too damn naive for my casino and the devils within.

"Ah."

Unable to bear the pain, she clutched her hands around my hard mass, with her fingers digging into my back.

My lips found out, taking her in bouts of hot kisses, and stealing her mind away from the pain as our tongues entwined.

Devouring her, I let my tongue graze every inch of her mouth, tasting the liquor on her.

Riding her in a slow and sensual rhythm, she drew up air in her lungs, feeling a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Damn."

She cried as the fucking intensified in seconds, driving us to a climax. She quivered beneath me, squirming hard as a snake, cumming around me.

Once my body stiffened, I instantly pulled out of her warmth, before shooting a truckload of sperm on her body.

For a minute, I paused to catch my breath, with my face buried in her messy curls and I inhaled the rich scent of her shampoo.

"Here."

I sat up, withdrew a stack of cash, and dumped it on her nude body.

"Fix yourself. I don't repeat."

Somehow, she found it humorous and started to laugh.

"This is a joke, right?"

Ignoring her, I pulled up my pants and zipped up.

"Leave. Now."

The look of disbelief in her innocent eyes stung me.

Facing sideways, I protected my sanity.

"You think I did this for money?"

"What now? Just one fuck and you want me?" I sighed and wriggled my nose. "Get a grip."

"You are a monster." Her breathing was labored. "A freaking monster!"

Tossing the cash at me, she nudged me aside and got down, hurriedly scrambling for her shirt.

"You all get over it."

"Go to hell and burn!"

With that, she ran off, and luckily, not inside the bar to those hungry lots. Else, I'd be forced to drag her out myself or spill their blood.

"Focus, damn it."

I slapped my jaw.

One minute, I'm Don Rylan, the next, I'm a freaking pussy.

Leaving Thane behind to handle things, I hit the road. More than ever, I need a bottle of liquor and a cold shower to think straight.

"You can't let her emotions crawl on you, Rylan."

The loud shot from a distance ripped through my thoughts.

Scrambling to grip my pistol, I lost my balance when they shot at my tires. Immediately, I marched the brakes.

It got out of control, colliding into the oncoming vehicle with the assassins, and screeching to a forced halt.

With each passing second, I slipped into oblivion, becoming enveloped with gross darkness.

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The nonstop beeping of the vital signs machine pulled me into consciousness.

I flickered my eyelids lazily, getting a faint image of a man with a stern face, and angry eyes.

My father.

"Padre."

I tried to sit up, but paused, getting a strange sensation down my limbs.

"Don't try, son. You can't walk."

The room fell silent following his awful revelation.