Unbound (The Dominator 3) - Page 48

Delgado looked at me, “Let’s have a party tonight, shall we, Joseph? Show young Master Ferrano what it’s all about.”

I leaned over and tucked Angel’s hair behind her ear.

“She keeps me plenty busy.”

“Ah, the blush of young love,” Joseph Lucas lamented. “We always have a big party the opening night of the summit. You’re here a day early so we’ll have a more intimate party and you can decide whether you want to partake. We don’t push. You’re always the master of your own limits. Come. See what it’s all about. No pressure.”

I gave a nod and took a sip of my coffee.

They’d told me they wanted me a day early so that I could get more information on the way things worked. That worked for the Feds. I didn’t like it. I was not a rat. I’d been raised to know deep in my gut that being a rat was lower than low.

Fuck you, Pop, for making me become this.

I’d spent such a short a

mount of time here when I picked up my wife that I knew very little, really, about the ones in charge, how the place got started. Any little bit of info would serve in making the place fall. I was under no illusions; these people lived this lifestyle and another place like Kruna or multiple places like it would pop up somewhere else to fill the gap this place left.

But, taking this place down, taking down the motherfuckers who’d hurt Angel? That was worth me becoming a rat. That was worth every dime I had, every ounce of dignity I possessed. Justice for her. The love of my life.

I just had to play it smart so I wouldn’t fuck it all up.

And then I had to figure out how the fuck to get her sister away from Romero.

I hated calling her Felicia, knowing how much it would hurt her, but she needed to be in the ‘Felicia’ mindset. She was doing well. My perfect angel.

We were shown to our room after brunch. It was the same room as before. It felt strange. Before we’d come, we’d talked at length about how we couldn’t discuss anything here. We were in character and staying in character. The fact was that we were bugged by the Feds and we had to behave as if we’d been double-bugged with the resort bugging our room as well. I’d gotten no indication that the Kruna partners didn’t trust me. I still wasn’t taking any chances.

I took her hand and pulled her to me and we laid down on the bed. I put my lips to her throat. She was wearing the three-strand choker necklace I’d gotten her. I twirled her hair with my index finger.

“You sleepy?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Let’s catch a nap and then we’ll go for a walk on the beach.”

“Yes, Master.” She said, looking deep into my eyes.

I put my lips to hers and breathed her deep. I held her close. We didn’t fall asleep, neither of us; we spent a good hour just holding one another, not talking, just feeling one another. We didn’t need words that others might hear. I just wanted to give her my touch so that she’d know I had her.

Tia

I woke up alone in my Vegas hotel room in the fancy six bedroom hotel suite overlooking The Strip. I woke to the curtains drawn tight, which they weren’t when we’d gone to sleep. Tommy must’ve closed them. I could almost pretend I wasn’t here. Almost.

Wait. No, I couldn’t forget it because of how I’d been the previous night. What a night. What an awful night. I took a shower, hoping to wash the ugliness it felt like I was coated with down the drain.

It didn’t work. I didn’t know what to expect from Tommy today.

When I emerged from the bedroom, I was dressed in a pink fitted tracksuit, hair up in a ponytail, and I had a coffee cup filled with decaf café au lait in my hand.

Someone had to have heard me in the shower, likely Sarah, or maybe Tommy and had deposited it on the dressing table in the bedroom. I sipped it. It was probably Sarah. It tasted like it had no sugar at all and Tommy rarely brought me a coffee but when he did, he always put sugar in it. I’d taken to putting sugar in my one daily decaf since becoming pregnant. If I had to give up caffeine for my pregnancy, I would take back sugar.

The suite was beyond nice, open plan, with a dining area, wet bar kitchenette area, large living space with that 12-seater white leather sectional, and two hallways that each had three bedrooms with ensuite bathrooms.

Tessa’s boys were on the floor, Antonio huddled with an iPad, Lucas, with his eyes on big 70 inch or larger TV, a hackey sack that looked like a baseball in his little fist held against his mouth. Sarah and Tessa were on one end of the couch, Sarah playing something on her phone and Tessa with her eyes on the boys. Go, Diego, Go was on television. Tommy was at the head of a table that was big enough to seat a dozen.

He had a plate of half-eaten food in front of him and I spied several chafing dishes lined up along the serving table behind him. That serving table was on a wall of windows that overlooked the Vegas strip. He was on the phone, looking like he was listening to someone, but his eyes swept over me and then he looked the way of the window and kept talking. I couldn’t hear him over the television.

Tessa gave me a tight smile.

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