Curtis Jesus Christ. Who the hell got my wife all riled up? Forget that. What was with this strange obsession of wanting to grind my balls? I covered my crotch protectively. “I’ll just take a shower.” I inched away from her and left the kitchen. By the time I left the shower, she was done cooking and she came to get me so we would have dinner together. I had just taken off my towel when she entered the room without knocking. Her eyes bugged out before she could get the first syllable out. “Uhm…” She cleared her throat while simultaneously turning away. “Dinner’s ready. I came to get you.” “And you’re scared because you saw me naked?” I teased. “Baby, you’ve had this cock inside you fourteen hours ago.” My cock was already stiffening to life at the memory, and of course I’d kept track of the time. I had literally counted the hours until I could get back home to her. I was right before. Angelica was a drug. A taste of her was all it would take for me to get addicted. I was certa

Angelica It took a moment to realize he was not talking about my father but about my uncle. It made sense. I couldn’t remember everything about my childhood home but I had always known there were many similarities between the Arciero mansion and my parents’. If Uncle Robert designed both, it would make sense. Maybe the secret tunnels were his thing. But why would he dig tunnels under his client’s mansion and not tell the client about it? I would have assumed Hugo Arciero knew about it and just didn’t tell anyone else if they were not my family’s arch enemies. “Wait.” I frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Didn’t you grow up here? I don’t think my…I stopped myself from accidentally saying ‘uncle’ and quickly replaced it with… “dad was already an architect when you were born.” “We moved here when I was ten.” He explained. “I don’t know the whole story but my grandfather bought this mansion on a whim and felt it was too huge so he asked my parents to move in with him.” One thing was a

A woman playing poker like a pro was nothing surprising. The poker casino had seen its fair share of all sorts of pros. New champs came in every night and not every one of them was playing a fair game. Cheating was not impossible as long as you didn’t get caught—hence the rule against weapons in case things got out of hand. On the other hand, a woman handing out her husband’s money like candy because she kept losing was comical, especially when said husband kept buying more chips with a grin. It was almost as if he was happy to lose. How exactly did it turn into this? Well, I had shot my mouth off about how horribly I could kick Curtis’s ass in a game of poker. When he brought me to the basement casino to see me prove it, I couldn’t even beat a rookie. I don’t know whether or not I was actually that bad at it—I had never been interested in playing it but I wasn’t trying to win. My aim was to get a chance to speak to Yakov Yenin. I was buying time until his arrival by making everyon

My father probably had enough enemies to fill a city the size of Silverwood. Anyone could have done this to him but I had a strong feeling it was related to a mafia family. He had poked more than enough trouble with those. Besides, the gruesome torture wasn’t about killing him. If they wanted him dead, we would be hearing from a mortician instead of a hospital—if he didn’t mysteriously disappear, that is. His condition was worse than Giancarlo described it. We quickly realized the culprit had specifically taken away all his means of communication. He couldn’t talk and neither could he write down whatever he wanted to say. They had broken the fingers of his right hand beyond restoration. “Why does this MO feel so familiar?” I glanced over at Giancarlo, who was leaning against the ward’s door with his arms folded over his chest. “A hundred bucks say it’s the Angel of Death.” That wasn’t quite right. The Angel of Death would leave a message inscribed on his body and kill him. “He pro

“I tried to close my eyes, Arciero.” Yakov grinned, making fun of the entire situation. Curtis was furious.There had to be something I could say to explain why I was at the same table with the man he warned me about and why I didn’t tell him I was coming here. It didn’t seem like it but there wasn’t any situation I couldn’t get myself out of—I was a professional liar, for heaven’s sake. But seeing him standing there, obviously battling the urge to punch Yakov in the face and drag me out of there had my brain short-wired. I couldn’t string two words together.Was there any chance the floor could open up and swallow me alive?I didn’t wait for him to drag me out. I walked over to him, trying my best to remain silent in case I said something that would make things much worse.Any hope that we could forget about what he just witnessed flew out through the window as soon as we got to his office and he locked the door behind us. “Explain.”I could have made something up about wanting to pl