Empire of Lust: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

I’m having drinks with Nicolo in the Lucianos’ downtown club when he drops the bomb.

“Rumor has it, Bruno will be a free man before his daughter’s next birthday. And by rumor, I mean my intel.”

I pause opening my Zippo to stare at him. “What?”

He leans back against the leather of the VIP booth we’re occupying, a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth. “He might be thinking about turning her birthday into a date of death. It’s a poetic thing some fathers do by taking back the life they gave.”

My pulse starts ticking in my ears at the speed of a lethal bomb. But I force a steady pace in opening and closing my Zippo, zeroing my attention in on Nicolo, who looks a bit too relaxed about the facts he just shared. Seeming not to notice my reaction, or noticing and ignoring it anyway, he makes eye contact with one of his staff and they scurry over with a bottle of Macallan.

The chaos in the club fails to penetrate the confinements of my skull. The loud music filters to the background, holding the importance of a used condom. The stench of strong perfume, sweat, sex, and alcohol hangs in the air like a gloomy cloud.

But I don’t pay attention to all of those details. I don’t even focus on the bottle he offers me. “You can stop it.”

“No can do. Bruno is one of our loyal soldiers and Lazlo’s trusted man. I might have given the redhead protection, but not at the expense of ending Bruno. My idea of protection is to not let him kill her, and it does not, under any circumstances, entail ending Bruno’s life. Besides, she’s not keeping her side of the deal. Mateo is still married to the gold-digging blondie and he’s been acting like her rejected puppy.” He jerks his chin in the direction of his brother, who’s refusing two leggy brunettes’ advances and looking a second away from having them thrown out of the club.

“Your brother’s objections to divorce are on him and you, not on Aspen. And that’s her fucking name, by the way. Use it.”

He raises a brow. “Are you defending her, King?”

“I’m stating facts. She brought you more money in the past two weeks than all your soldiers combined. I don’t fucking care whether you roll it around your dick, shove it up your ass, or soak it in blood. As long as you keep your part of the deal and provide her the protection she asked for.”

“I will, but only under my terms.” He blows a cloud of smoke in my direction. “But if things go south, and they always do, I hold no responsibility for collateral damage.”

“Meaning?”

“I already passed a message to Bruno that the redhead is under my protection now. Even though he’s under Lazlo’s direct order, he accepted that and promised not to go against me. So unless he breaks that promise, I won’t actively plot his demise.”

I slam my lighter shut, narrowing my eyes. “He doesn’t have to get out to hurt her. He’s doing the job from behind bars.”

“No evidence.”

“Fuck that. You heard those scums mention his name in your basement.”

“That was before I passed Bruno a message.”

“Oh, I see where this going.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Back in school, you used to surround yourself with as many people as possible—students, teachers, staff, principals. All of them. It wasn’t some popularity contest but more of an elaborate divide and conquer strategy. They were all a part of your chessboard that could and would be used down the line. The situation is similar now. You don’t want to lose Bruno’s services, but you also like the money Aspen brings to the table, so you’re keeping both. But you’re forgetting something, Nic.”

He slides one leg over the other and lights a cigar, then blows the smoke in my direction with the nonchalance of a hedonist lord. “And what is that?”

“I was never part of your pathetic crowd, strategies, or fucked-up god complex. It’ll be a cold day in hell before you use me or anyone close to me.”

“So the redhead is close to you?”

“Aspen is the fucking name. And she is the mother of my daughter.”

“Is that what you feed your brain to sleep better at night?”

“No, Nic. You’re not using a reversal tactic and switching the subject to focus on me. It’s about you, so why don’t you tell me what the fuck your game is this time?”

“Not a game. It’s…an observation. My old man used to say that there are two types of monsters. Those who roam free, like you and me, only hold the sky as the limit and even consider conquering it. The other type are those like Bruno, who’ve been locked away most of their lives. Their goal is neither the world nor the sky. They have one purpose—destroying the person who shoved them into that cell.”

“In that case, he should take it up with the warden.”

He smiles with a coldness that freezes the air. “Do you know the number of guards Bruno has killed or caused their death?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.”

“Twenty-five. A life for each year he’s spent behind bars. And every time, one of his underlings or prison buddies took the fall for it. So even if you or anyone else sends someone to get rid of him while behind bars, it won’t fly. He has a lawless kingdom there that no one is allowed inside of, least of all, your beloved law.”

“So you’re telling me we should brace ourselves and wait?”

“You have no choice but to wait. The bracing yourselves part is redundant.”

I finally reach for the drink and take a long chug, but not even the burn is able to chase away the number of scenarios invading my head.

Nicolo talks business and I’m only half listening to him. The number of his men I saved from jail is becoming countless and while I consider myself the best criminal defense attorney around, this is turning into overwork. His goons are like untrained dogs. Or maybe they’re well-trained by Nicolo to be on a constant mission to throw their weight around—and therefore, showcase his power.

He always liked to scare people by his ruthless reputation alone, so they didn’t dare to go against him. A tactic that both of us have been using since our childhood.

I never attempted to soften my image or cater to the public’s fragile mentalities and emotional hearts. When they fear me, they stay away. When they fear me, they don’t have the audacity to look at my throne or touch my power.

Mateo joins us soon after and so do some escorts that are courtesy of the club.

Their attempts to get my attention match the desperation of a dying fish. One of them is chattering about the history of Macallan like she’s an automated robot, and I tell her to drink until she no longer pollutes the air with her voice.

I fail to wrap my mind around the fact that I used to fuck her type not too long ago. Granted, I didn’t pick them for their communication skills or lack of character.

I picked them because they weren’t a fucking headache.

Unlike a certain witch that the mere thought of turns me hard with an urgent need to fuck. Her, specifically.

It’s been a week since the day she refused to be mine, both in the middle of fucking and outside of it.

The fact that I spanked her ass to the point that she couldn’t sit properly for days held no importance. At least, not enough to make her change her mind.

Ever since then, however, she’s been coming to my house daily. Or I’ve been dragging her with me. Semantics.

Due to her witch blood and alleged relations to Satan himself, she’s a hard one to win over. Always putting up a fight in fucking everything.

Except for when my dick plows inside her cunt, of course. And even then, she never fails to sing the tune of how much of an asshole I am.

But that’s what makes it all fun. Her resistance, fight, and inability to bow turn me into an animal every goddamn time.

No clue how the hell I was fine with the likes of robot-what’s-her-face before.

They’re not the flavor of fire that I prefer, and they definitely have the effect of minus degrees frostbite on my dick’s state of arousal.

Despite the fact that I didn’t fuck Aspen last night, because she chose not to come over. When I bombarded her phone with texts, creeper style, she told me she was going out with Caroline, Mateo, and his friend.

Emphasis on the friend part.

I told her not to go or I would show up and fuck up her evening and destroy Caroline and Mateo’s chances of ever reuniting. That couple has the combined emotional intelligence of a fat cat and the same philosophy of freeloading.

Aspen hung up the phone in my face after repeating her favorite words of “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

The only reason she wasn’t buried six feet under my cock was because Nate and Gwen visited me for dinner. I could tell he made her do it. She looked miserable, pouted for most of the night, and had dark circles under her eyes.

The traitor has met with her mother two times within a week. Which is a record, but she probably only came to dinner with me because Nate had had enough of her deteriorating state and took things into his own hands.

Needless to say, the dinner was strained. She didn’t apologize and I didn’t shower her with love and spoiled princess behavior.

To make matters worse, I was irritable about the whole Aspen fiasco and her double date with the fucker in front of me and his wife.

Since Aspen is actually smart, she avoided the firm the entire day today, working off-site and even asking her assistant to bring her whatever she needed.

You can run, but you can’t hide, witch.

Swirling the glass of whiskey in hand, I focus my attention on Mateo. “What’s it going to be, Romeo? Will there be a divorce or not?”

He glares at me, then at Nicolo. “The word divorce needs to be wiped from your extended vocabulary. I swear to fuck, Nicolo, if you mention it to Caroline again, you won’t like what I’d do.”

“That sounds like a threat,” I egg on Nicolo, who, despite looking relaxed with a girl hanging on his arm and a cigar dangling from his lips, obviously doesn’t like the sound of what his brother has said.

“Mateo knows better than to threaten me. Isn’t that right, Teo?”

“It is what it is. Caroline is the one person you’re not allowed near.”

“Heard you’re patching things up with her,” I say.

His expression lights up at that. “We’re dating.”

“Considering you’re married, I think you’ve hit a home run with her enough times to go without the dating part.”

“We’ve been hitting home runs since we met. Never dated. It’s different this way. Better.”

“Who’s this imposter?” Nicolo says with disgust. “Give me my brother back.”

“Where do you go on dates?” I ask, ignoring Nicolo’s grouchy presence. “Namely, yesterday, and while you’re at it, with whom?”

“A restaurant downtown that’s owned by my college friend. He later joined me, Caroline, and Aspen.” Mateo pauses. “She loved the food and the company.”

“Caroline?”

“No.” He smirks. “Aspen.”

My hand flexes so hard, I’m surprised the glass doesn’t break beneath it.

That’s it. The witch will have to ask her ancestors for some spell to restrain me once I get my hands on her tonight.

“Speak of the she-devil.”

I raise my head at Mateo’s voice to find Aspen being directed in our direction by a bouncer.

She’s in a pantsuit, which still looks sexy as fuck wrapped around her tall, slim body. Since she has her briefcase, she must be here for work.

A fact that both Nicolo and Mateo forgot to mention.

Doesn’t matter, though, because this might as well be my chance to keep my promise to her from a week ago.

“Get on my lap, Julie,” I tell the girl who’s been fighting with a single drink for the past hour.

“It’s Judith.” She frowns but does as she’s told, her legs stretching out on either side of my thighs.

I whisper so only she can hear, “Put on your best show and you’ll be compensated with a better profession than the one you obviously hate and are terrible at, judging by your subpar conversation and drinking skills.”

Julie Robot Judith shows the first real smile in the entirety of her clusterfuck career and nods.

She fingers my tie just in time for Aspen to see us. I pretend that I haven’t noticed her as I smile at some nonsense Julie is saying.

But in my peripheral vision, I spot the slight pause in Aspen’s movements. It’s a mere fraction of a second that doesn’t even translate on her face. Not a moment later, she strides toward us with sure determination, her bright hair swishing over her shoulders.

She clears her throat loud enough to compete with the half-muffled music from the club.

“Aspen,” Mateo greets her. “To what do we owe this visit?”

“I need Nicolo’s signature for an acquisition.” I can feel her attention on me even before I lift my head.

And when I do, she glares at me so hard, it’s a miracle that no lasers come out of her eyes.

“Aspen,” I say as if I just detected her existence. “Do join us.”

“No, thanks. You seem to have your fair share of company.” She sounds like she’s in her element, which means she still has that infuriating control.

My hand slides up Julie’s waist while the other grabs her brown hair in a fist.

Despite the dim light, the blotch of red that explodes on Aspen’s throat would be visible from Mars.

Even her lips press harder against one another.

Just for knockout’s sake, I let my mouth hover an inch away from Julie’s neck as she moans like a porn star.

Even while she turns a curious shade of red, Aspen keeps her composure. I’ll give her that.

So I say, “You can still join us. Julie wouldn’t mind.”

“The only thing I’ll join is your funeral,” she spits out and throws open her briefcase nearly spilling all the papers inside, then pulls out a file and thrusts it in Nicolo’s face. “Sign.”

He appears half-amused, half-bored as he takes his time scribbling on the document.

She taps her toe on the floor, completely ignoring me and Julie, who’s humping herself on my thigh for an orgasm.

As soon as Nicolo is finished, Aspen practically snatches the file from his fingers and shoves it back in her briefcase. I expect her to turn and leave, but she marches toward us.

I grin. “Changed your mind about joining?”

She stares me straight in the eye as she snatches Mateo’s drink and pours it over my head with a sweet smile on her face.

“Have a shitty evening, prick.” Still smiling, she nods at everyone. “Gentlemen.”

Then she turns and leaves with the grace of royalty.

But not before I get what I want.

My lips twitch and I push Julie and her annoying gasps away from me.

Nicolo, who’s been smirking like an idiot on crack, looks at me. “Care to elaborate about why you’re smiling?”

“None of your business.”

“I disagree.” He fingers an unlit cigar like it’s a woman’s body. “Remember when we were young and our fathers taught us the importance of aiming for someone’s center of power? The one thing without which they’ll crumble and won’t be able to pick up their pieces again? I think I might have just found yours.”

“You’re too arrogant to think you can hurt me without being crippled in return, Nic. Remember, I dish out toys, but I’m not one of them.” I wipe the liquid from my face, not even caring about my ruined tailored suit.

Without bothering to excuse myself, I stand up and trail after Aspen.

She might not have been as forthcoming about it as I’d hoped she’d be, but she gave me the opening I was looking for.

The opening that means she not only cares, but her control might as well be hanging by a thread.

Because no matter how much she tried to hide it, I saw it just now.

Tears shone in her eyes.

Might have been out of frustration or anger, but it’s enough ammo for me to use.

This time, she’ll learn the hard way that she’s fucking mine and there’s no fighting it.