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Chapter 24

** DANTE VINO POV **

I sat at the lavish bar and ordered another glass of whiskey. The effects of the liquor clouding my mind and granting me a temporary reprieve from my thoughts that have kept me hostage. I've been coming here every night for the past 12 days, drinking myself into oblivion and coming home during the early hours of the morning.

The past week and a half have been so tedious without the witty and sassy attitude of my little vixen.

After my little rampage in the meeting, I made as much of an effort to stay as far away from her as possible. I lost control of my emotions that day, something that I cannot possibly allow to happen again. The second I lose my composure, is the second this Mafia falls.

But my little vixen makes it so complicated to be level-headed whenever she's around. I almost ripped Damon's door off the hinges when I found out they were alone working in his room. The thought of her alone in a room with another man makes me want to go on a killing rampage. Her beautiful silky skin, her mesmerizing eyes, her witty intellect, everything about her entices me. Her full, voluptuous- 

"Brother, I changed rooms four times and the fucking Ghost is following me man, I swear." Angelo says as he grabs his glass.

"Yeah, sure." I grumbled, annoyed Angelo interrupted my thoughts. In all honesty, I haven't even been listening to a word he was saying.

"Hey man, you alright? You've been acting weird for the past few days." Angelo asked as he took a drink of his whiskey.

"I'm fine." I said as I downed my drink and ordered another. Maybe if I drink enough, my subconscious will black out too.

"It wouldn't be because of a certain hacker, would it?" He smirked at me while I glared at him in response.

"Ahh so it is about her! My big brothers got a crush." He said, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

"I have no feelings towards m- the little annoying vixen." I said as I grabbed the whisky bottle in front of me and refilled my glass. I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince more, me or him.

"So you wouldn't mind if I fucked her right?" Angelo said, raising his eyebrow at me.

"Angelo, I swear to fucking god if you touch her I'll cut your fucking hands off." I growled, nearly shattering the glass in my hand from my tight grip.

"So you do have the hots for her!" He laughed as he smacked his hand down on the bar top.

"You're delusion." I said as I rolled my eyes. My little vixen rolls her eyes, it must have rubbed off on me. 

Fuck.

"You shot that new recruit for her and gave her a $4000 pocket square for her to get blood off her face. You usually have a new woman in your bed every night, but since she's been here, you haven't slept with anyone! Just admit it already!" Angelo said before he finished his glass of whiskey.

"You're wildly inaccurate in your accusations." I scoffed, even though he was telling nothing but the truth. Every woman I meet I find myself constantly comparing them to my little vixen. Each woman disappointing me or disgusting me with their stupidity, caked on makeup, and poorly drawn on eyebrows. 

"Prove it then." Angelo said as he nodded in the direction of a woman walking towards us.

She was tall, taller than my little vixen by a few inches. Her hair was long and black, shorter than Rebel's hair, but still long nonetheless. Her eyes were green, darker than the hazel eyes that entice me. Her lips were injected and unnatural, and her makeup was applied heavily. Her upturned nose was similar to my little vixens, but she doesn't even compare to her natural beauty.

"Just admit it, brother. You can't live in denial forever." Angelo winks at me before getting up and walking away.

"Hey, handsome." The woman who isn't my little vixen says seductively in a high pitched voice. After pretending to listen to the annoying stories and jokes the Rebel-imposter was saying, I found myself blacked out drunk.

"Wanna get out of here baby?" She says as her hand travels up my thigh to my groin. I drunkenly nod and walked outside. My chauffeur was waiting for me in his usual spot, and opened the door of the Escalade upon seeing me. I sit in the backseat and rest my head back against the seat and close my eyes.

Why can't I get you out of my damn head.

The Rebel-impostor takes this opportunity to straddle me, her already short dress riding up and revealing her artificial ass. She grinds against me and kisses my neck. Her pointy fingers weave their way into my hair as she then starts to kiss me. I kiss her back, hoping this distraction would work, but find myself relieved as we pull up to the mansion. I push her off of me and get out of the car.

Her obnoxious heels clink against the pavement as she hurried over and wraps an arm around my waist.

Clingy non-Rebel is annoying the hell out of me.

We stumble into the garage. There's not a chance in hell that I'll take this Rebel-impostor through the front door. The sounds of a Jimmi Hendrix solo was softly echoing throughout the garage. It was "All Along The Watchtower", one of my favorites. As we make our way to the door, my attention goes to the back of an all black Dodge Demon SRT with a Hennessy package installed.

When did I buy that? I never buy American cars.

I walk over to the supercar with non-Rebel still latched onto my waist. My breathing hitches as we walk towards the front and I see the real Rebel, casually installing a supercharger. The hood was popped open, and she was leaning in tinkering with the mechanics of the vehicle.

She was wearing a white tank top that was smeared with oil and grease. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and her black ripped jeans were hugging her curves perfectly. There was nothing sexier than seeing such an exquisite woman working on a car.

God damn.

She looks up from the hood of her car, her perfect eyebrow raised in curiosity. Her expression soon morphed into a disgusted scowl.

"Never would have thought you'd be an American muscle kind of girl." I said, attempting to sound smooth but instead my words drunkenly slurred together.

"What can I say? I'm not particularity fond of Italian engineering, or anything Italian for that matter." She said as she emphasized her words and rolled her eyes. I felt something cold on my neck, and realized that the Rebel-impostor was kissing my neck, smearing her bright red lipstick on my skin.

"Now, if you two don't mind, I have a lot of work to do, and watching you two fuck isn't on my to-do list." She said sarcastically as she pointed her wrench towards the door.

"You could always join us?" I smirked.

By us, I mean me. Only me.

"I'd rather undergo a lobotomy, but thanks for the invite." She said coldly as she leaned on the side of the Dodge Demon.

"There's that sassy attitude I adore." I said, smiling a drunk smile as the non-Rebel pulled me towards the door.

Due to our drunkenness, it took us a while to arrive at my bedroom door. The Rebel-impostor was whispering in my ear, describing in full detail all the disgusting and vulgar things she wanted to do to my body, but my thoughts were filled with my sassy little vixen. She was magnificent, her intelligence never ceasing to amaze me.

The non-rebel walked into my room, and locked the door. She slipped out of her dress slowly while looking me in the eyes. Her bright pink lingerie making my eyes sting. Non-Rebel's breasts were not proportional to the rest of her body, her implants causing them to spill over the top of her lace bra. She kissed my neck and moved down my body slowly, removing my shirt in the process. I didn't move as she got on her knees and started to unbuckle my pants. She looked me in the eye as slowly undid my belt and slid my pants down to my ankles, leaving me in only my boxers.