Chapter 153
Chapter 153
Lucky – The Queen of Mafia – A month later
Wow the temperature currently here in Arizona is over one-hundred degrees Fahrenheit and I am sweating. My sweat is sweating. I wipe my brow with the back of my hand and let out a long sigh, longing to be back on my honeymoon with my gorgeous, hot husband.
He bought an island. Can you believe it? An entire island, one of the British Virgin Islands, with white perfect sand, glorious aquamarine water and nobody around except the people who were taking care of us and of course the ever-present bodyguards.
It was like a slice of heaven, gorgeous weather everyday as you can imagine. Lazy days lounging in the hammock together, him on his mobile doing some bits here and there, me reading and sometimes us reading peacefully together. Honestly, in the two weeks we were away, the stress was zero.
We made love and fucked nearly all night long, getting hot and sweaty since we only had a ceiling fan in our cabana. The views to the water were mesmerizing. How I wish I could be back there for a short spell again. However, I can’t. I have obligations now that I am his Queen.
Nico announced it over a big dinner with our families present, Dario for once didn’t give any kind of retort or snort like a sulky frat boy. He was on his best behavior.
Not only were our families present, the outer circle was there too and the syndicate members. It was scary as hell as I held my breath whilst he made the announcement. Telling them that Lucky Gianluca-Santangelo is now the Queen of the Mafia scene and must be obeyed and respected as if they were addressing or dealing with the King, Nico Santangelo. Honestly, my heart squeezed several times, as he delivered his speech looking handsome in his tuxedo, his hair a bit tousled and those glorious eyes of his capturing everyone’s eyes.
I chose to keep my name because when I have children, it is important to me that they recognize they are also heirs to the Gianluca family and our name must go on too. Nico was fine with it even though Tony did advise if would be better to drop the Gianluca name from mine. I protested and told him no way. Take it or I will remain a Gianluca and not take the Santangelo name.
My husband, God I love saying that word, it sends a thrill through my body and lifts my heart – said nothing against my retort. He is fully supportive of me and has my back at all times. A good thing since now I’ve been in Arizona for two weeks already, there are some assholes who seem to think they can give me the royal runaround.
The architect being one of them. Saunders is what I consider a total and outright asshole who looks like he was born in another era completely. He hasn’t stepped out of the gangster realm of the nineteen-twenties, the way he wears his double breasted, black suits with thick white pinstripes, a waistcoat, pocket watch and Spats on his feet. He is difficult to work with but he is apparently the best. According to Nico.
So, yeah, some things I definitely need to suck up. For now. I’ve got my trusty assistant, Alex to look into another architect because working alongside Saunders is like pulling my hair out of my head one fine strand at a time. Every time I put forward an idea, he bats it away and gives me ten reasons why something won’t work. My stress levels are through the roof. My deadline to complete this magnificent casino-hotel complex is eighteen months. At the rate I’m going with this douchebag, it’ll be five years.
He sits in front of me at my desk in my office that overlooks the city. I tap my perfectly red manicured nails on the table impatiently. We’re discussing a boutique type of mall for the residents. I figured since they will be paying top dollar to stay at the resort they would like some shopping, especially those wives or girlfriends who have nothing better to do all day than look like Barbie clones.
“I still don’t think it’s the right thing to do,” he tells me. “Personally, I’d invest in another casino or you could expand the hotel with additional rooms, you could offer deluxe bungalows for couples that want a bit of extra privacy.”
Wearing my sharp as fuck, red pants suit with a black blouse, I lean forward resting my elbows on the table. “I don’t pay you to tell me what you think I should do, Saunders on a business level. I pay you to tell me what can and can’t work and provide designs, details, cost breakdowns and recommend the additional labor. Nothing else.” My voice is direct, cutting almost with a hint of ice.
The older man, I’d hazard a guess at late fifties, mops his head with a white handkerchief. He squirms in his seat under my direct glare. Purposefully, I have not put on any fans. We don’t have air conditioning; I am against it for sustainability reasons. The whole casino-hotel is costing a pretty packet since I want it eco-friendly. Tony raised an eyebrow since he looks after not only security but the purse strings. However, Nico overruled being the awesome husband that he is, and I got my own way. I usually do. Fierce is my middle name!
“Of course, Mrs. Santangelo, we can create the drawings for you with cost proposals and have our project manager make the plan for you and scope it out. Is there anything else you need this morning?” I can tell he wants out as soon as possible.
The door knocks, Alex pops her head in. “Hey, Lucky, your husband is here to see you.”
“Thanks, Alex. Can you see Saunders out please,” I tell her.
Nico steps in giving a handshake to Saunders who scurries away like a mouse. He walks towards me after closing the door and pressing the button to make the automatic blinds come down since I am surrounded by glass.
“How’s my Queen doing this morning? You look radiant as ever,” he says as he walks towards me looking hotter than sin in hell, with his dark jeans on, tight black T-shirt that displays ever muscle in his chest, arms and practically outlining his abs. The man has the physique of a dream Greek God.
“She’s had a very stressful morning,” I tell him as he comes round and swivels my chair to face him. He leans down and kisses me, it’s passionate and makes my pulse begin to race.
“Well, I’m here now to de-stress you, my beautiful woman. Get undressed, I want to christen your office table.”
I feign shock at his words, fluttering my long dark lashes against my cheeks. “Now!” he commands making me insta-wet. The way he uses his mouth and words makes me practically pant for him to fill me with his manhood.
“I’m going to make you come all over your nice pristine desk, Lucky.”
I’m ready for that.