✔️ ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

Chapter 13

ROMAN

I planted A little Flower in my Tub.

This is the first flower to grace my home, after my cocaine tree, and she's already spoiled. Being a devoted florist, I made sure she wouldn't catch cold. She's got the best pot — a bathtub. It's cozy.

The bathroom has no windows. She heated up with the tension a lot during the car ride, her cheeks still flushed as I dragged her into my apartment. I figured sunlight was a little inflated.

And, I tied her up. Just to make sure she stays rooted. Feeling generous, I even put her friend on her lap — an emotional support — so she'd have a plant-friend to talk to. Then, I left her to enjoy some quality "me-time," so she could have a little plant-to-plant therapy as well.

Though, my handiwork took longer than five minutes. Now, I'm out of the apartment, heading to the car. Marco's already in sight, shooting me his annoyed glances.

"Finally. What took you so long?" Marco's voice slices through the air as I slide into the car, shutting the door after me — which I know he hates. "And don't break my fucking door!"

"I had to make myself pretty for you," I turn to him with a grin, giving him a charming smile I know most pants would damp for. "And it's not like you have anything better to do other than to play Seraphina's donkey."

"You still look like my dick," he says, heaving a sigh and shaking his head. "And I have better things to do than waiting for you dick-face. I have luggage to pack."

"Oh? Another mission? Someone is going to suck a bullet? Who is it?" My brow arches, my face lacing with genuine curiosity.

"Not a mission," Marco answers, shaking his head. "It's my turn to take six months off. You know, after babysitting Helena and her trope of gremlins."

"You really are dramatic," I tell him with a snort, fastening my seatbelt. "Complaining about playing Seraphina's donkey... what shall my poor brother do? He's stuck teaching Cara how to handle a gun." I chuckle wickedly.

Workloads piling up, deals to cut, no time for tutoring — we convinced Capo that Valerio — my brother from another motherfucker — should mentor Cara. The excuse was flimsy, but it worked.

Not that we'd ever shirked training Alanzo. The kid's got resilience. But of course, the Capo's all about keeping his precious spawn equally spoiled, so we also had to hand Alanzo to Valerio.

"I'd rather train Cara than provide for Helena's insatiable pregnancy cravings," Marco grumbles, shaking his head like the mere memory is haunting him down.

"How bad was it?" I ask, half-smirking. I know it must've been bad. I had to go through the same torment. "And why do we have to bear the aftermath of Antonio getting his dick wet?"

"Bad," he mutters, a groan slipping through his teeth. "She made me tour Chicago for organic grapes — in the dead of winter. I drove for hours... Thank God I found some. And why don't you ask him?"

"Organic grapes? Lucky you," I snort as he drives us through the gate and parks in front of the mansion. My apartment's close to the mansion — a convenience, sure. "Try organic dragon fruit. Nowhere to be found... and I passed..."

"You had the audacity to return empty-handed?" Marco asks, doubtful, as he parks the car before the mansion and we step out.

"Of course not," I reply with a chuckle, shaking my head. "I grabbed a regular one from the store and thought she'd buy it."

He lets out a low whistle. "Clever. I'll note that for her next pregnancy. And? Did her pregnancy nose find out?"

I roll my eyes with a huff. "It didn't work. Her pregnancy nose is deadlier than a bloodhound's. She sniffed out the fraud immediately. Then, she hurled the dragon fruit at my head, sobbing about how it wasn't fit for her precious baby."