Mafia King's Contract Breeder
Chapter 33 A Crack in His Control

Chapter 33: 33 A Crack in His Control

Emmanuel POV

In sleep, Lara Brinson did not look like a daredevil who would mock me to my face.

Moonlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, washing her in pale silver. She looked deceptively vulnerable.

Her dainty bone structure made her seem like something fragile and breakable, as if she might snap if I squeezed too hard. Her lashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks, and her full lips were parted just slightly, drawing shallow, even breaths.

I bent down, my fingers brushing the delicate straps of her heels. I slipped them off one by one, setting them aside with a quiet thud.

Then I eased my jacket off her, to which she made a soft, irritated sound and rolled onto her front.

Bruises in the shape of my fingers were beginning to bloom against her hipbones.

It gave me a rush of dark satisfaction to see my mark on her, heat coiling low in my stomach to think of how she had cried out and come apart under my hands.

My appetite stirred, tempted even now to take her again.

Oh, how she would look if I did...vivid green eyes fluttering open in shock...

I pulled the sheets over her, forcing the dark desire back into its box.

She burrowed deeper into my pillow, letting out a deep sigh, as though she was perfectly comfortable there.

I lifted my eyebrows.

Tut tut, little liar.

Turning away from the girl sleeping in my bed, I went to my bathroom to clean myself up.

The bathroom lights came alive with a clean white glow as I stepped inside. I stripped efficiently, stepping into the massive glass enclosure. Scalding water cascaded over me, steam rising thick and heavy, fogging the mirrors until the world outside my thoughts blurred into nothingness.

It washed away the evening—the scent of her on my skin, the faint stickiness of sweat and sin, the lingering adrenaline—returning me to cold, precise order.

After a thorough shower, I changed into a fresh suit. No point in getting ready for bed.

With the girl here—

I would not sleep with anyone beside me.

Which made it terribly inconvenient that I had decided to put her there. I could hardly explain to myself why I had done so. Only that she was mine, and in the moment, that was where I felt she belonged.

She was only a woman.

A woman who was creating tiny fractures in my orderly world, hairline cracks spreading through my iron-clad control like frost on glass.

My plans had been in meticulous motion for years—decades, even. Every deviation from the roadmap invited inconvenience, risk, chaos.

Then again...

When things had been going perfectly to plan, it had started to feel rather... boring.

People were, as a rule, so painfully dull and predictable. Easy to read, easier to manipulate.

I could not say no to the rare chance to make life more interesting.

—

As I left the bathroom, my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.

I glanced at Lara — still sound asleep — and stepped out of the bedroom before I picked up.

"Yes?"

Janine’s voice came through cautiously, almost hesitant, as if she were testing thin ice.

"Mr Sagres—"

She had, of course, witnessed the entire bloody confrontation in the Salon. But she hadn’t dared utter a word until my knives were safely sheathed and I was far beyond striking distance.

"I hope you have an explanation," I said coldly. "Was that the sort of behavior you allow from clients at Elysium when I am not there?"

Elysium was far more than a mere sex club. Perched on the glittering edge of Central Island, its sleek black-and-gold interiors catered exclusively to the rich, the famous, and the dangerously powerful—those who prized absolute discretion and ironclad order above all else.

Its rules were sacred, unbreakable. They were the foundation of its allure.

"No, of course not!" Janine said hurriedly. "That was an unusual circumstance. The girl that you brought tonight— she was eye-catching. I can make a star of her."

I pressed my lips into a thin line, leaning one shoulder against the dark wood paneling in the hall.

Of course she was. Lara had been radiant on that stage tonight. Her singing voice...her expressions and moans...everything about her dripped with sex appeal, the living embodiment of every man’s deepest fantasy.

She struck the perfect balance between innocence and filth, with a burning fire inside her that made it impossible to look away.

Every new layer I uncovered only exceeded my expectations.

Lara Brinson was a diamond in the rough—brilliant, sharp, and dangerously addictive.

In a venue like Elysium, she could bring in revenue to match what I had spent on her within a month or two.

As for bearing me a child... rationally speaking, any healthy, fertile woman could fulfill that role.

I knew what would be the rational thing to do. Cold, business decisions that I had made a thousand times before—

The cold business decisions that she naively accused me for—

But I could no longer consider that option.

The thought of lesser men putting their hands on her made something ugly rear up in my chest.

Why should I not keep the best to myself? I have earned the right.

"I changed my mind," I said. "I have other plans for her. She won’t be working at Elysium."

"Another venue?" Janine said, disappointment bleeding into her tone. "Elysium is the best."

"Not another venue. I have greater things in mind," I said.

Janine knew from my tone that it was not worth arguing any further. Instead, she said, "The guest that you injured tonight. He is the son of Marcus Turdin. Mr Turdin has called demanding compensation."

Turdin. Head of the sprawling mafia networks in South Hartlow. An uninspired brute whose greatest talent seemed to be fathering children with a rotating cast of lovers.

"Did he particularly like this son?" I asked, my lip curling.

The fool who had dared lay hands on what belonged to me deserved what he got.

Turdin’s organization was considerably weaker than mine, but I had been angling for a partnership, a united front against the entrenched elite families of Central Island.

"When he’s asking for compensation?" Janine said dryly. "Oh, it’s his favorite son."

I rolled my eyes.

The poor souls in East Windlem were easy to buy off. Turdin, on the other hand, had a bigger appetite.

But still, everyone had a price.

"I am willing to negotiate," I said. "Ask him what he wants."

"I’ll let you know."

I ended the call with a sour taste in my mouth. Every loss of control carried consequences. But this was still under control. A minor aberration. Nothing more.

—

Dover sat down beside me without invitation, on the bench in the roof garden.

The roof garden stretched around us in hushed elegance—carefully manicured hedges of night-blooming jasmine, potted olive trees rustling softly in the cool night breeze, and strings of warm amber lights woven through the pergola overhead.

"I heard what happened at Elysium," Dover said.

His jacket smelled of smoke and motor oil, suggesting that he had taken his motorcycle somewhere and been on watch long enough that he could not resist his cigarette habit.

He eyed me curiously.

"What was that about, Boss?"

"I was proving a point," I said.

"Oh." Dover nodded at once, understanding flickering in his eyes. "Has Turdin been stepping on our toes?"

I did not reply.

Far below, the city hummed like a distant beast, its lights glittering coldly against the dark.

Reasonable assumption that I had maimed Turdin’s son in order to send a warning. An assumption I did not bother to correct.

Only I knew the truth of who I had been trying to make a point to.

A foolish endeavor, in hindsight. There was no need to win arguments with my little pet. No reason to let her sharp tongue and defiant fire provoke me into such a raw, public loss of control. No more deviations from the plan.

There were far better ways to put her in her place.

I would tame her with my cock, as she was meant to be tamed—slowly, thoroughly, until that burning defiance melted into trembling submission and those pretty green eyes looked up at me with nothing left but desperate need.

Until she understood exactly who she belonged to.