Undressed By The Mafia God-Chapter 175: Glad To Be Of Service

Her fingers curled into his hair, holding him there.

He lifted her thigh to his waist. His palm came down against her ass.

"God yes!" Bianca cried.

Cassidy smiled to himself, he’d found it. The way she liked it. Was this the way Luca fucked Veronica too? Or was he tender with her just as she used to like it with him?

He pushed Bianca further against the wall. His hands moved with growing confidence, sliding the rest of her shirt down, his touch slow enough to tease, quick enough to keep her breath unsteady. When he unclasped her bra, he leaned in.

His focus narrowed entirely to her as he consumed and kissed her breasts and nipples.

Bianca’s fingers curled against his shoulders, then into him. His fingers slid into her skirt, past her underwear, fingers curved in search of her pleasure.

Time blurred after that.

The living room became the hallway, the hallway the bedroom, though neither of them could later say exactly when or how they got there.

An hour later, they were both gasping for breath on his bed.

The sheets were tangled around them.

"God that was good!" Bianca chuckled.

Cassidy let out a low breath, one arm resting behind his head as he turned slightly to look at her. "Glad to be of service."

"Oh...it was some service."

Cassidy shifted slightly. "I’m guessing this is it?" he said.

Bianca exhaled slowly. She sat up, reaching for her clothes scattered across the floor. "Yeah...I need to get my husband back. And I cant do that when I am sexually frustrated."

"And whats your plan? Tell him you fucked someone you just met?" Cassidy joked, but still prodding for information.

Bianca chuckled, shaking her head as she pulled on her clothes, regaining pieces of herself with each layer. "Don’t be silly. I just need to get his nanny on my side."

"His nanny? He is a grown man."

"Yeah, she has been his nanny since he was born. She knows everything about him. You want to kill Luca, that’s the woman to use."

"Really?" he asked.

She simply shrugged as she slipped back into her clothes.

"So you want to get her on your side," Cassidy continued, watching her carefully. "Don’t you already have his father on your side?"

Bianca glanced at him through the mirror, her lips curving faintly. "Oh I do," she said smoothly. "But Nonnina is the maternal figure of my husband’s life. If she likes me, I am golden."

She turned fully now, watching him as realization settled behind his eyes. You could almost hear the gears shifting in his mind, connecting pieces, mapping intentions.

"of course," Cassidy murmured. He pushed himself to his feet, closing the space between them again.

He reached for her shirt, helping her button it, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric, occasionally grazing her skin.

A subtle intimacy.

"Will I see you again?" he asked.

"I’ll call you when I need you."

"I’ll dress up and drop you off."

Bianca nodded once, already turning back to the mirror. Her fingers moved through her hair, fixing, smoothing, perfecting. By the time she was done, there was no trace left of the woman who had been crying in the airport.

Only Bianca Genovese remained.

A satisfied grin crossed her lips as she admired her reflection.

One down.

Plenty to go.

It really was the easiest way to get rid of your enemies—never get your hands dirty. Let others do it for you. Especially the ones foolish enough to believe they were the ones in control.

Her gaze flickered briefly toward Cassidy. He was adjusting his shirt now. He was useful.

And, she admitted privately— he was enjoyable.

He was a good distraction.

But that was all he was.

Because no matter how much she tried to rewrite the narrative in her head, there was one truth she couldn’t quite erase.

Cassidy was a good fuck. He had delivered.

But Luciano Genovese—he wasn’t even trying when he fucked her and yet he was hitting places she didn’t even know existed.

Bianca’s fingers paused briefly in her hair. She measured other men against him.

And they kept falling short.

Luca was the ultimate man, the ultimate lover, the king of pleasure. No wanna be idiot could match his skills.

*****

Julian barely felt the ground beneath him as they wheeled him out.

The medication dulled the edges of everything—pain, anger, even the bitter taste of humiliation that sat permanently at the back of his throat—but it didn’t erase them. It just made them slower.

The handicapped exit creaked open, and sunlight spilled across his face, forcing his eyes to narrow. The doctor brought him to the backyard.

Julian’s gaze lifted slowly and saw his brother already in position.

Shirtless and kneeling.

Wrists bound in front of him, the rope biting into his skin just enough to leave marks that would linger long after the punishment ended.

His back was exposed. He faced away from their father.

A man stood beside him, holding the whip. It was an ugly thing—long, worn, rough at the edges.

Julian’s lips twitched faintly.

His father had waited for him to be well enough to watch.

How thoughtful.

His chair came to a stop.

From here, he had a perfect view.

Don Genovese stood a few feet away from him, hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed.

And the look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated pride.

That was the part Julian couldn’t understand.

His gaze flickered between them, confusion threading through the haze in his mind.

Everything Luca did seemed to be... right.

Even this.

Julian swallowed, his throat dry.

That wasn’t what he was supposed to be feeling.

This was supposed to be satisfying.

Therapeutic.

Watching Luca suffer—watching him bleed, break, pay—

It should have filled the hollow feeling inside of him.

But it still wasn’t enough. He still thought of Bianca.

He had opened himself up to her.

Stripped himself down.

And she—she had taken it.

Looked at it.

And crushed it beneath her heel.

For Luca. For him.

And then she left without any goodbye.

Not even the courtesy of pretending he mattered.

(Brought to you by Janelle Fox)