Trapped in his End Game (Series)

2-23



VINCENT

The blonde swings her ponytail as she watches me from the kitchen. She teased me all night with her skinf-tight, black jeans, staring at me under her long lashes with fuck me eyes. My cock gives a twitch in my pants as I imagine her gagged and bound on my bed, but the girl in my fantasies always looks like Adriana. Maybe banging Blondie will get my mind off her.

Jack eats his penne alla vodka, eye-fucking me when the blonde returns with a bottle, giving me such a seductive smile that it ought to be fined. I grab her tiny waist when she tries to leave and pull her onto my lap.

“Mr. Cesare!”

“You’ve been teasing me all night. It’s rude.” She squeals when I squeeze her hips. “Tell her, Jack.”

Grinning, I glance towards Jack, who doesn’t look at all amused. What’s his goddamn problem?

“I think you should let her get back to work.”

Fuck that. Adriana’s fucking that scumbag, Carmine Lucchesi.

She’s giggly, this girl. She plays with my hair, fucking it up, but I don’t mind because her tits are in my face. Then I yank her closer to me and my lips crush against hers. I try to lose myself in her, tasting strawberries on her lips. It’s all wrong. She’s too soft. Blondie doesn’t do anything for me. She squeezes my arms and pulls away, biting her lip.

“Something wrong?”

I disguise my indifference with a smirk. “What’s wrong is I have to wait for your shift to end to get you alone.”

“You’re the boss,” she leans in and mouths my ear. She bites my ear. “Can’t you send me home early?”

Adriana used to do that. She would bite my ear and whisper filthy things that would make my dick so hard that I could pound nails. I don’t even have a chubby with this woman.

This isn’t helping. All I think about is how much I miss her and agonize why the hell she’s with Carmine. Seriously. What does he have that I don’t?

“No, get your ass back to work.”

I push her off my lap and as she turns around, I lift my hand and slap her ass. The sound cracks through the quiet, moody atmosphere. Her face burns a brilliant magenta as guests wheel their heads around and stare at me with contempt.

Tacky. Not gentlemanly. I don’t care.

Jack glowers at me from across the table. “You want to fucking embarrass me some more?”

“What?” I snap, grabbing the glass of wine and draining it.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

“I think you should leave the girl alone.”

“Oh, so now who I fuck is your business?”

I don’t care if he’s the boss.

“I’m just saying, you might regret it.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

My jacket pocket buzzes and my hand dives into my pocket. I glance at the black screen and a small shock runs through me.

Maria.

Adriana’s roommate. What does she want? I jam it against my ear.

“What?”

“Hi Vince, it’s Maria. You know-”

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me?”

“Well, it’s about Adriana.”

My fingers bite into the phone. “Adriana and I broke up, Maria.”

She chooses to ignore that fact. “Vince, she’s in pretty bad shape. She’s been drinking nonstop and she dropped all her classes.”

My chest tightens. She dropped her classes? Jesus.

I don’t care, I don’t care. I repeat it like a mantra in my head, but it doesn’t make a fucking difference. I do care. Even if she’s a fucking bitch and a liar. There’s also the fact that Carmine and her make no sense together.

“I don’t see how any of that is my problem anymore.”

Her voice grows impatient. “Oh, come on, Vincent. I know you guys are going through a rough patch-”

Rough patch?

“She is fucking someone else, Maria. I want nothing to do with her anymore.”

“No, she’s not! I don’t think she’s dating him, Vince. She hasn’t spent a night away from here. Something is wrong with her. Something’s not right.”

I try to ignore the glee soaring in my chest.

“Tell somebody who cares.”

“Vince, you’re all she has. She doesn’t have any family-”

I slam the phone on the table, ending the conversation.

Jack’s eyes narrow at me. “Who was that?”

“Her bitch friend trying to get me to help Adriana with her drinking problem. Like I give a fuck.”

But my heart pounds with the possibility that maybe, maybe Maria is right. I know deep down that I’m still in love with her. I can’t rip it out of my chest, as much as I want to.

You’re acting like a fucking jerk-off. Fuck Blondie and forget about that bitch.

Adriana’s body lays on the floor, her eyes glazed as her hands curl around a bottle, choking on her own vomit. A chill grips my spine like icy fingers running down my back. Whatever my feelings are for her, I don’t want that to happen.

And it’s my fault that she no longer has a mother. I remember the promise I made to her. To take care of her.

But she’s not mine anymore.

I glance down at my plate at the half-finished stracatto, but my appetite is long gone.

Why did she have to fucking call me?

There is a loud bang at the entrance and low, male yells. All thoughts of Adriana vanish as male choruses of “Freeze!” make me sit up straight.

I’m already grabbing the piece strapped to my ankle. Truth be told, I never really got over the whole restaurant shooting. I feel like I’m trapped in one of my nightmares. Fuck, not again. No-

“Put it down, Vince,” Jack says. “We’re being raided.”

Men in business suits flash their badges as men in FBI vests prowl through the restaurant, weapons drawn.

Oh, fuck.

Shaking, I stand up with Jack and we make a beeline for the kitchens.

Don’t run. Just walk calmly. We need to get the fuck out of there before they get us.

We enter the steam filled kitchens, my eyes focusing on the glowing, red EXIT sign. The kitchen staff look up as we enter.

“Mr. Cesare-Vincent!” A gruff voice yells out my name from behind.

Fuck.

I watch hopelessly as Jack hurries through the back of the restaurant. I turn around. A balding FBI agent flashes his badge to me.

“You’re under arrest.”


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