Vegas Pete - A Mafia Romance 2 (Completed)

Chapter 4: Part 3

I had trouble breathing as I made my way toward the restrooms. Luckily, nobody tried to stop me. I wasn't sure I could have kept up my mask if they had. The moment I stepped inside the bathroom, I released a shuddering breath. I washed my hands because I couldn't wash my face without ruining my makeup. Lifting my face, I regarded myself in the mirror. I wasn't vain but I knew people found me beautiful. I had received praises for my beauty all my life, and yet the mention of Grace's abilities made me realize that it might not be enough to hold Vegas. He loves you. I closed my eyes and counted to ten until I felt the necessary strength to return to the party. Grace was the past. I moved out of the bathroom and stiffened when I saw Grace waiting for me in the hallway. She smiled but it was all fake. Resisting the urge to lower my eyes, I met her gaze straight on. She moved closer, encasing me with her overly sweet perfume. With her high heels, she was several inches taller than me, but I straightened my spine. "I hoped I'd get another chance to talk to you. At your wedding, I didn't have much time." He will fuck you bloody. That's what she'd said and fueled my own terror. She wasn't that much older than me, perhaps twenty, but she had a world of experience on me. "Maybe you think Vegas is satisfied with what you can give him," she began in a low voice. "But I've known him for two years, and he's never settled. I was the only woman he returned to over all that time, because I gave him what he needed." Two years? Even if he'd been with other people in that time, why had he kept her around? Grace's smile widened. "I've let him do every kinky thing you can't even imagine, Pete." It was enough. I took a step toward her, bringing us too close, and narrowed my eyes at her. I was raised in the mafia world. I had grown up among predators. I had rammed a knife into a Bratva member. If Grace thought I'd let her intimidate me again, she was thoroughly mistaken. 

"You will stay away from him," I said quietly but firmly. "The only reason why he used your ass was because he didn't want to see your face. You have always been and will always be replaceable. One among many. You are nothing to him. Cheaper than a whore, that's for sure." I hated that her ugliness brought out my own viciousness, but I couldn't take anymore. She raised her palm to slap me when a shadow fell over us, and Vegas's strong hand clamped around her wrist. He shoved her back from me so she collided with the wall but he didn't release her. His grip on her wrist made her wince, and she cowered under the force of his gaze. He looked murderous. "She's not worth it," I whispered imploringly. His mouth pulled into the cruelest smile I'd ever seen on him as he released Grace's wrist. "You won't ever speak to Pete again. You won't go anywhere near him, or you will see a side of me very few have survived." "Vegas, please," she begged, clutching his arm, and I stiffened. "I'd do anything for you. I love you." He shook her off in disgust. "Don't touch me, whore. You just swallowed my brother's cum; do you really think I want your dirty hands on me?" He turned to me, and some of the anger slipped away, but Grace wasn't done yet. Her face scrunched up as she leveled her hateful eyes on me. "I wish that guy in Vegas's club had raped you when I paid him for it. I bet with roofies in your blood that was the first time you could take all of Vegas's cock inside your hole. It was probably the only time he enjoyed fucking you." I gasped, but my shock lasted only a second because Vegas reached under his jacket for his knife. I wasn't quick enough. He turned and lunged at Grace, thrusting her against the wall and pressing the blade against her throat. The fury on his face halted me only a second, then I rushed toward him and gripped his arm, trying to pull it down but he resisted, and he was too strong for me. His hateful eyes never left Grace as he held the knife against her skin. I didn't much care for Grace, but if Vegas killed her here, Senator Parker would call the police, and not all of them were on the Famiglia's payroll. 

"Vegas, please," I murmured. "You listen to me, Grace. You will leave Bangkok again and you won't come back. I will say this only once: you will never threaten my husband again, or you will be the first woman I will skin alive. That's a fucking promise." He hit his chest with the hilt of the knife, right where his Famiglia tattoo was. His gaze made me shudder, and Grace finally realized he was being serious. Color drained from her face as she nodded. "And now you will go to your fucking room, and you won't emerge until this fucking party is over." He released her and she ran down the corridor where her room must have been. Vegas turned to face me, sheathing his knife, the remnants of the monster still in his expression. I exhaled. "God, even I was scared of you. You can be terrifying." Another chunk of the monster fell off, his expression softening as he regarded me. "So I have been told." I stepped up to him and put my hands up against his chest. There was no sense in punishing Vegas for something Grace had said or done. I'd forgiven him for his slipup long ago. With my touch, the last of Vegas's darkness fell off and the warmth reached his eyes. "Don't listen to a word she says, Pete. She thrives on spite and lies." "Two years?" I asked quietly. Vegas shook his head. "She was one of many, Pete. I only returned to her because..." He stopped himself. "Because of her missing gag reflex," I muttered. "Pete," Vegas said almost angrily, reaching for my hand and pressing it against his chest, over his heart. "I've never wanted anyone more than I want you, and not because I have to imagine my aunts naked to stop myself from shooting my cum the moment your perfect lips close around my cock, though that too, but because you make me laugh, because you are kind and because whenever I look at you, I feel something I've never felt before: peace." I swallowed. Macau chose that moment to barge into the corridor. "It's close to midnight. You lovebirds should make a reappearance." His eyes narrowed as he took in the way we were facing each other. I gave Vegas a small smile to show him we were okay, and he took my hand and led me back to the party. Shortly after midnight we left. Vegas was on edge, and staying any longer would only increase the risk of him losing his temper.

Together we returned to our penthouse to toast the New Year again without dozens of curious eyes on us. Macau and I grabbed glasses and a bottle of champagne, and headed out onto the rooftop while Vegas searched for snacks. Fireworks were still rising into the sky in the distance. Macau opened the bottle and poured champagne into the three glasses before he handed one to me. His dark eyes were keen as he regarded me. "Grace cornered you at the party." I didn't say anything but gave a small nod as I took a sip from my champagne. Then when I was sure my voice would come out strong, I said teasingly, "I hear I'm not the only one she cornered." Macau cracked a grin. "More than cornered," he said suggestively. I nodded, looking back out toward the skyline. "Trust me, no missing gag reflex ever made Vegas look at Grace with anything close to the fucking vomit-inducing adoration he shows you when he thinks no one is watching," Macau said with his trademark grin. "My brother is hopelessly in love with you, and to be honest I want to have the same drugs you use on him for Tay so he'll look at me the same way once we're married." I burst out laughing, and champagne shot out of my mouth and onto Macau's shirt. He glanced down at it then back up at me with raised eyebrows. "That was incredibly sexy—no wonder Vegas can't keep his hands off you." "I have my moments," I said with an embarrassed smile. "What was sexy?" Vegas asked sharply as he stepped up to us with a plate loaded with bread and cheese and olives. He shoved it at Macau, who winked at me. "Possessive husband mode activated." Vegas circled my waist with his arm. "Macau, I think you pissed me off enough for one evening. You don't have to shoot all your ammunition today." "I never shoot all my ammunition, Vegas," Macau said with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows. I pressed up to Vegas, feeling my cheeks heat from embarrassment and the effects of the champagne. Vegas sighed, but when he looked down at me, I could tell he was happier than I'd seen him all day. "And that look is my cue to head out and find someone to shoot my ammunition at," Macau muttered, downing his champagne. Hesitation flickered in Vegas's gaze. They had spent every Sylvester together, and I realized that I had changed things between them too. "No, stay." I reached out and grabbed Macau's shirt because I didn't get to grasp his arm and pulled half of it out of his pants. I released him at once. His eyebrows shot up. 

"Vegas, can you please tell your husband not to rip my clothes off my body? It's sending out mixed signals." I burst out laughing and Vegas pressed a kiss to my temple, then shoved his brother. "You wish." I smiled. "How did you spend your last Sylvester?" Macau rubbed the back of his head, glancing at Vegas, who sent him a warning look. I took another gulp of the champagne. "I assume that means women and men were involved." "A few, yeah," Macau said with a wink. "At the same time?" "Macau was too drunk to remember," Vegas said firmly, and I rolled my eyes at him but decided to let it drop. "I never got to see old photos of you from when you were kids." Macau grinned. "Let's see if we can change that." He moved back inside and began searching the cupboards. Vegas sighed. "He's a pain in the ass." I touched his arm and his brows drew together, but I didn't say anything. Maybe Vegas thought he had never loved anyone before me but even if he didn't realize it, he loved his brother. "Come on," I said. "I want to see you when you were little." "I was never little," Vegas objected as he followed me into the living room. Macau held up an old photo album and I settled beside him on the sofa. Vegas sank down beside me, grimacing at the first photo. It showed him and Macau at ages three and five, dressed in suits. Vegas was already tall but still scrawny, and his face already held a hardness a kid that age shouldn't display. Macau was holding his brother's hand. "You are holding hands," I said with a smile. Vegas groaned. I turned the page and both Vegas and Macau tensed. The photo showed Macau and Vegas, wearing the same suits as before, beside a woman with long dark hair. She was staring into the camera with the most hopeless expression I'd ever seen. I could practically feel her despair. Vegas's mother had killed herself when he was only nine, and seeing her expression, I wasn't surprised. I quickly turned the pages until I found a photo of Vegas in his teens with the most horrible mustache I'd ever seen. "I'd forgotten your pornstache!" Macau said, chuckling. "Pornstache?" I repeated, raising my eyebrows at Macau. Vegas was glaring at his brother. "Because that's the facial hair many porn actors had." I took another sip of my champagne even though I was already drunk. "I was fourteen and thought it would make me look grown up," Vegas muttered and turned the page to a photo of him on a yacht in only bathing shorts. The mustache was gone and he was already all muscle, even though he couldn't have been more than sixteen. I let my eyes wander over him appreciatively and Vegas smirked. I couldn't wait for us to be alone.