Wrath: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Deadly Sin Series Book 1) Read online

  WRATH

  For years I was a good wife, watching my husband, Christian, the mob boss for the Cerisi crime family, sleep with every woman in sight.

  But all that changed after an impromptu girl's trip to Chicago which led me to a passionate one-night-stand with a handsome, blue-eyed, stranger who was everything Christian was not.

  Unfortunately, he wouldn't be a stranger for very long.

  All I wanted was to put that night behind me.

  All he wanted was to relive it…

  COPYRIGHT © 2016 BY PENELOPE MARSHALL

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED, SCANNED, OR DISTRIBUTED IN ANY PRINTED OR ELECTRONIC FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION. PLEASE DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN OR ENCOURAGE PIRACY OF COPYRIGHTED MATERIALS IN VIOLATION OF THE AUTHOR'S RIGHTS. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES AND INCIDENTS EITHER ARE THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR'S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY, AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO LOCALES, EVENTS, BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, OR ACTUAL PERSONS – LIVING OR DEAD – IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

  Dedication:

  To my family for their unwavering support.

  Acknowledgements:

  I'd like to thank everyone who helped make this book possible:

  My wonderful friends, who are willing to read anything I throw at them:

  Jeanette, Charity, Kelsey, Alma, Cheryl, and my Dad.

  Cover: Ric

  Proofread: Avril Stepowski

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  BOOK 1: WRATH

  COMMODITY

  HOOKED

  DIRTY INDISCRETION

  DRUDGERY

  AY DIOS MIO

  TWENTY MINUTES

  SECOND ROUND

  THE OTHER WOMAN

  GETAWAY

  BURNING CITY

  THEN GO

  CRAVE ME

  SPARKS

  RESTRAINT

  BANG!

  IL FANTASMA

  WRATH

  EPILOGUE

  BOOK 2: ENVY (SNEAK PEEK)

  CRIMES

  OTHER BOOKS BY PENELOPE:

  BETRAYED (SNEAK PEEK)

  PROLOGUE

  DEBAUCHERY

  PERKS

  INDECENCY (SNEAK PEEK)

  INDECENCY

  ESCAPE

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  http://amazon.com/author/penelopemarshall

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  You can close your eyes to the things you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel.

  COMMODITY

  LEXI

  I suppose it wasn’t a bad life. I had nice things: purses, shoes, and the latest Paris fashion had to offer. But the intangibles—time—love—that was the precious commodity.

  I had always wondered what real love felt like. Was it soft? Was it safe? Did I even want to know? They say ignorance is bliss, and maybe this was one of those things I should have just stayed ignorant to.

  Love wasn’t a prerequisite to being the wife of a mob boss, beauty was. I had to admit, the first few years were exciting—the lights—the cars—the money. But there was always something missing—a phantom itch I couldn’t scratch.

  Maybe it was the craving for real love or the desire for a husband who wouldn't cheat on me every chance he could. Either way, there's nothing worse in life than regret. So when I was offered the opportunity to go on a girl's only trip to Chicago with my cousin, what else could I say but yes!

  In hind-sight, I probably should have said no…

  HOOKED

  A few days later…

  The vigorous knocking at my hotel door startled me awake. The clock said it was already 9:15 which meant I was late.

  Fuck!

  Celia must be outside, and she was going to be pissed. I ran to the door and swung it open. There she stood, a slender five feet worth of pissed off sassiness wrapped in a skin tight black mini dress. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, pairing it with her usual nude lipstick and black smoky eye shadow which she swore brought out her light brown eyes.

  "I told your punk ass to be ready at 9:00, and here we are—9:15—and you're not even dressed. I should leave you here, and go by my—"

  "I know," I interrupted.

  "But you’re lucky I love your sorry ass!" she said with a smile.

  "Just gimmie a minute to get ready."

  "The way you look, you need like five," she said, closing the door behind her.

  "Shut up!" I yelled from the bathroom.

  "Hurry up!"

  "I’ll only be a minute—I’m just gonna throw on a new shirt," I hollered as I spread toothpaste on my toothbrush.

  I was rushing, afraid to make her madder than she already was. Next to Christian, Celia was the scariest son-of-a-bitch I knew.

  I jumped in and out of the shower as fast as I could, settling for a white midriff tank and a pair of skinny dark black jeans as I quickly dried off. Tousling my long brown hair for that 'just got out of bed' look, I threw on a fitted light brown leather bomber jacket, and marched out the bathroom, feeling just as confident as if I'd had an hour to get ready.

  "Are you fuckin’ ready?"

  "Yes! Let’s go." I smiled.

  "It’s 9:38, and you're making me miss some prime time man meat."

  "Okay, okay. I’m sorry, shit," I said, slipping on my black sling backs.

  "I'll forgive you—this time." She smiled, taming some stray hair I had missed.

  "You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my cousin," I said, waving her off.

  "You always say that, but would I lie to you?"

  "Uh, yeah, you would. Remember the time you told me that home perms were a good idea?" I sassed.

  "I was fuckin’ thirteen. Get over it."

  "I will never get over that," I said with a laugh.

  "But honestly—you’re so pretty, I never understand why you can’t see that," she replied with a smile in her eyes.

  All I could do was smile back. "Okay, stop being mushy, let’s go before your Prince Charming goes home with another woman."

  She chuckled as we strolled to the elevator.

  "So you think you're gonna get lucky tonight?" I asked.

  "Bitch, do you see how good I look tonight?" She stopped in the middle of the hallway, holding out her arms. "You better muthafuckin' believe I'm gonna get laid."

  I shook my head and pushed the elevator down button. A few seconds later the door dinged open to an empty elevator car. In the blink of an eye, the doors dinged open once again, letting us out in the lobby.

  "I'll get the valet to bring the car around. Gimmie a second," she said, pulling the ticket from her purse.

  "Okay, I'll wait right here."

  She walked out the sliding glass doors, while I waited inside, minding my own business, which didn’t last long at all. From afar, the chiseled jawline of a male Adonis, caught my eye, his dark black hair seemed to carry its own breeze.

  Where in the hell can I get one of those?

  I shook the thought from my mind and pulled my phone from my purse, searching for something to look at to take my attention away from him.

  A text message came through while I was pretending to scroll.

  Celia: I'm outside

  Me: Okay

  Not paying attention while I
texted, I ran smack dab into the handsome man and his freshly tailored navy blue suit. The smell of his cologne alone sent me into a frenzy; I lingered for a moment breathing him in, and for a brief second I imagined dragging him into the bathroom to have my way with him.

  "Excuse me," his soft honey-coated voice said.

  "No. No. Excuse me," I said, shifting my gaze up to a pair of ice-blue eyes which hooked me in, and wouldn’t let go.

  His smile had a slight curl on one side, kind of like Elvis, but a lot more manly. Another text message came through.

  "I think your phone is going off."

  "Is it?" I asked, unaware of anything other than his eyes.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, pressing his hand against my arm.

  The electricity in the touch jolted me out of my trance. "Oh—I'm—I'm okay. Thank you," I stuttered, walking backward toward the exit so I could get some last minute images of him filed away in my brain.

  He turned, watching as I traipsed away, flashing a smile worth a thousand Louboutin's.

  "Hurry up," Celia yelled out the passenger window.

  I turned and quickly hopped into the car, leaving the handsome blue-eyed stranger alone in the lobby.

  "Did you see that man?" I asked.

  "What man?"

  "The fine ass man I was standing next to."

  "Girl, you need a drink," she said, weaving in and out of traffic.

  "Maybe."

  She screeched off the freeway, zipping past a number of streets until we reached the crowded downtown Chicago club scene.

  "Of course there’s no parking!" Celia yelled trying to fight the bumper to bumper traffic. "Get out of the way, asshole!" she yelled out of her window to a black sports car that cut her off.

  "Road rage much?" I chuckled.

  She whipped her head around and glared at me. "We wouldn't be having this problem if someone had better time management skills."

  My smile quickly disappeared, replaced with the look of terror. Celia was serious about her club time, and I had already fucked up by making us late.

  "Sorry," I said, looking down at my twiddling thumbs.

  We ended up parking a few blocks away, but even that didn't appease my animal of a cousin.

  "You do know these shoes aren’t meant for walking right?"

  "What are they meant for?"

  "They're muthafuckin' display shoes, Lexi. Display only!"

  I shook my head. It was best not to poke the bear when she was acting like that.

  "Fuck, this is gonna take forever. Next time, be ready!" Celia said, punching my arm.

  "Man, I hope you get laid tonight so I don’t have to hear about how you might have missed the man of your dreams because I overslept," I said, rubbing my arm.

  "You better hope I get laid," she said, marching to the club. "Shit, I hope I get laid tonight," she added as we schlepped up to the extra-long line for the club.

  She looked at the line and then glared at me, shaking her head.

  "I know. I know. I shouldn't have overslept. You know, you're really starting to act like, Christian."

  "Oh no. Don't you dare compare me to your crazy ass husband. When was the last time you saw me slit someone's throat and then head off to dinner like nothing happened?"

  "You don’t know that he does that."

  "Don't be naïve, Lexi."

  "I'm not being naïve. I've just never seen him do it."

  "He's the head of the fuckin' Cerisi mob. I know you don’t think he just sells spaghetti and lasagna out of that restaurant."

  "Shh!"

  "Don't you 'shh' me. I'm just saying something you wanna deny."

  "I'm not denying it—I'm just saying I've never seen it."

  "You think he's gonna take you on a field trip to one of his executions?" she asked loudly.

  Some people in line turned around and stared at us. I smiled at them, pretending she hadn't said anything inappropriate.

  "You can ignore me all you want, but that shit is real."

  After what seemed like hours, probably due to the awkward conversation, we finally made it to the front of the line.

  "ID?" the monster of a bouncer asked.

  Celia pulled her ID out of her wristlet and handed it to him. His eyes moved back and forth between the card and her face, making sure it was her. After a few tense moments, he handed her back the ID, his gaze then shifting to me, holding his hand out for mine.

  Reaching into my pocket to fish out my ID, the stark realization fell over me…I had forgotten it at the hotel. I looked at Celia, and she automatically knew.

  Her brown eyes turned a blazing pepper red. "Oh, hell no—I ain’t taking you back to the hotel to get your ID!"

  "It's okay Joe, she’s with me," a familiar voice said behind me.

  DIRTY INDISCRETION

  I turned to see the man from the hotel, standing next to the bouncer, his hand patting the monster's shoulder as he smiled and pointed at me. The bouncer nodded me in as the stranger took me by the elbow, guiding me through the door, and down a dark flight of stairs.

  "You’re here?!" I exclaimed.

  "I am here." He smiled.

  "I'm sorry about the hotel."

  "Sorry about what?"

  "For running into you."

  "Don't be sorry. I'm not."

  Oh my goodness!

  His overt flirting tantalized me, magnifying every heat wave that overcame my aching pussy. I wanted him. I wanted him in me.

  I tried to change the subject. "How about you tell me how you got that bouncer to let me in?"

  "I put myself through college working here as a bouncer."

  "Really? I wouldn’t have pictured you as the ruffian type. You look so clean, and straight laced."

  "You can’t imagine me getting rough with someone?" he asked, moving toward me.

  I could feel the electricity he exuded waft over me. "No, I can’t," I replied coyly.

  Celia chimed in, killing the mood. "Ahem, excuse me. Am I chopped liver over here?"

  "This is the man I was telling you about—from the hotel," I said.

  "Please, call me, Liam."

  "Liam," she said, eyeing him up and down, holding out her hand for a shake.

  I couldn’t believe he was standing in front of me again. A second chance. I could have died right there.

  "Are you here with anyone?" I asked.

  "Yeah."

  "Oh," I said, slightly disappointed.

  "I’m here with you," he replied quickly.

  The butterflies in my stomach doubled at that very moment. Upon entering, we headed straight for the bar, where he plied us with a consistent supply of Tokyo Teas and Midori Sours, handing his black Amex over to the bartender to keep the tab open. I had only ever seen one other person with a card like that, and they didn’t come cheap.

  As the alcohol accosted my liver, my inhibitions evaporated, and I was no longer Mrs. Christian Cerisi. I was a woman, dancing with a handsome man, in the middle of a city where no one knew me. The way he touched me was almost primal. There was no denying the attraction I felt for him, and I wasn’t trying to.

  I felt free. A feeling I hadn't felt since I was eighteen when Christian had handpicked me from a long list of women, tying me to him with a ring and a warning. Leave him and die. The ring might as well have been a pair of handcuffs, permanently chaining me to his bed.

  I shook Christian from my head, clasping my arms around Liam's neck, feeling the smoothness of his skin. He slid his thigh between my legs, and I was hooked.

  I exhaled. I wanted him. I wanted him as much as he wanted me. The bulge protruding from his slacks couldn't hide his true feelings. He ran his fingers down the length of my arms, resting them on my hips.

  Pressing his forehead against mine, he gazed into my eyes. The room melted away, leaving Liam and me alone, drunk and uninhibited.

  He leaned in, seducing me, letting the alcohol from his lips coat mine as they grazed.

  Fuck, he's good a
t this.

  Cupping his hand to my cheek, he slipped his tongue between the small separation of my lips, tilting his head to the side, and kissing me like a woman should be kissed—hard and with purpose.

  Fast forward a few minutes, and we were no longer dancing, just standing and kissing amidst a crowd of drunken twenty-something-year-olds. I could have fallen in love right there.

  What was it about a man that could handle his liquor, and his woman at the same time that could make a girls heart skip a beat?

  Nature was probably to blame for the way I felt; not the sensual way he caressed my cheek, letting me know he was the kind of man who I had been looking for. The kind of man that I wasn't going to have to settle for.

  What was I saying? I was married! How could I possibly entertain the idea of Mr. Right, when I had a husband at home? Mr. Right Now was more like it.

  Wait was I Mrs. Right Now?

  Before I could figure out the answer, he said, "Come with me."

  Unclasping my arms from around his neck, he took me by the hand, leading me through the sea of drunk, horny, college kids that filled the dance floor.

  "Where are we going?" I asked, trying to keep up.

  My legs felt like noodles, and all I wanted to do was lie in bed, preferably with him next to me.

  "I wanna show you something."

  We made a break for the bathroom which, surprisingly, only had one man at the sink, washing his hands.

  "Stay here," he said, leaving me at the door as he headed for the sink.

  He looked in the mirror, watching the man's reflection while he waited for him to leave. The man took his sweet time, making eye contact with Liam through the mirror. They smiled at each other as he turned and left.

  The moment he was out of sight, Liam took me by the hand and guided me to the largest bathroom stall, locking the door behind him. He inched closer, taking hold of my jacket collar, pulling me close. His lips crashed into mine, kissing me with all the passion a man, with at least four Long Islands coursing through his veins, could have.

  And let me tell you—it was a lot. My skin throbbed from all the alcohol, and every touch was amplified tenfold. He pressed his left palm behind my head and continued to kiss me as his right hand descended toward the button of my pants. Quickly, and without reservation, he unbuttoned and unzipped them, revealing my dainty, pink, laced, panties. Maneuvering passed the material; he slid his finger into my anticipating pussy.