Chapter 4

Donatello’s POV

Relaxing in a private VIP room of my club, I watched the stripper under the red light, dancing around the pole with smooth and seductive movements. She held my gaze with her enticing eyes, managing to keep my attention even as my thoughts drifted elsewhere.

I was getting married by morning and just the thought of it made my lips curve upward.

No, getting married didn’t excite me. I just found the whole idea very amusing.

I didn’t need a wife. But the Moranno empire needed an heir. And who better than the daughter of Sergio LaRosa, who had connections that extended beyond the shores of America?

I snapped back to attention when the stripper left the pole, swaying her hips as she slowly approached me.

Carefully watching her, my grip tightened around the hilt of my gun as I placed my finger on the trigger.

These strippers were usually vetted before they got the opportunity to perform before me, yet one could not be too careful.

I narrowed my eyes as the blonde stripper began to shed the little clothing she had on, carefully peeling off each fabric until she was standing bare in front of me.

Not bad, I thought, letting my gaze linger on her breasts which had the telltale signs that they’d been enhanced by a doctor.

She wore ridiculously high heels, yet she fluidly went down on her knees without tripping, and I just let her do her thing.

Slowly moving with the rhythm of the music in the background, she reached for my belt and started to unbuckle it.

I finally relaxed my grip on my gun, spreading my legs wider and giving her more access.

Feeling her hands move around my crotch finally made me hard and when her hand found my dick, she smiled triumphantly.

I had to react. It would be a let down on me if I didn’t.

She wrapped her hand around my dick and slowly, she took it into her warm mouth, drawing a groan from my throat.

She sucked and licked, running her tongue over my shaft, from the base to the tip.

I groaned low again, taking a handful of her hair in my hand as she began to bob her head, taking my full length in one go.

I threw my head back, reeling from the pleasure and wondering if the wife I was going to marry the next day was this good.

I didn’t want a virgin. I wanted someone with experience who could fulfill my wildest desires.

“Mmm,” I moaned, feeling the tip of dick hitting the back of her throat.

She suddenly stopped and my eyes flew open. I raised my head to see her getting on top of me, straddling my cock as she put her breasts in my face.

I was not a man who liked being dominated, not even in situations like this. The position also felt a little too intimate.

So I slowly pushed her away and she got off, confusion clouding her expression. Before she could ask me anything, I bent her over and without warning, I rammed into her wet pussy.

“Ohh,” she moaned loudly, arching her back while I waited, allowing her to adjust to the size of me.

When she began to move her ass, I figured that she was ready, so I began to move my hips too, thrusting into her as she screamed in pleasure.

I held both sides of her hip, thrusting faster, harder, feeling the walls of her juicy pussy tightening around her my cock.

I groaned once more and just then, my phone rang, distracting me for a second.

I glanced at the screen to see who was calling: Marco, my right-hand man. He wouldn’t call me on a night like this unless it was something really important.

I sped up my thrusts and when I finished, I headed out of the room.

“Give her fifty thousand dollars,” I said to one of the men standing guard at the entrance, and then I called Marco back.

“What?” I asked as soon as he picked up.

“Don, we just caught the hotel manager trying to smuggle a high-end vintage bottle of tequila out of the club,” he reported.

I closed my eyes, sighing deeply. “Take him to the other room,” I ordered, and then hung up.

I made my way there, cutting through the club instead of taking the back route. As I pushed through the door ahead of me, I stepped out onto the gallery overlooking the main club.

The music thumped loudly, and the neon lights flashed with vibrant colors, illuminating the crowd below as they rocked their bodies to the rhythm.

The place was packed, and I couldn't help but smirk; business was booming.

When I finally reached the other room, a separate section of the building designed for dealing with club staff who dared to cross me, I dipped my hands into my pocket.

As I approached the center of the room, I noticed the manager on his knees, blood splattered on the floor in front of him.

He had his head bowed, and when I stood in front of him, he slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes widening in horror as they met mine.

Trembling, he tried to speak. But before he could get the words out, Marco kicked him hard in the mouth with his knees, and the man fell, blood splattering from his mouth.

“Please, Don,” he begged, gasping for air.

I signaled to the men, and they pulled the manager back up to his knees.

“How much is the cost of the bottle he tried to steal?” I asked Marco, not taking my eyes off the man.

“A thousand dollars, Don,” Marco replied.

Considering I had generously given that stripper fifty times that amount, I could have easily let this man go.

But no, I wouldn’t.

I hated people who thought they could steal from me and get away with it. Everyone knew that.

“Where’s the bottle?” I asked, and Marco immediately presented it.

“No, give it to him,” I said calmly. “The manager wants to drink vintage tequila, so let’s give it to him.”

The man was already shaking his head. Tears and snot mixed with the blood on his face as he pleaded, but I was not one to show mercy.

Marco opened the bottle and placed it against the manager’s busted lips.

“Drink,” I told him, but he shook his head again. He couldn’t speak because Marco was pressing the bottle to his lips.

“I said, drink!” I growled, and he reluctantly opened his mouth, gulping down the tequila as tears streamed down his face.

POW!

I shot him in the head, and he collapsed to the floor, lifeless, with tequila oozing out of his mouth.