Transgressions Read online

  And it wasn't as if he hadn't spent a huge amount of time in strip clubs in his day—less so now—but when the boys went out, he went with them, although he rarely did anything but look, even before they'd gotten together. Nowadays, he wouldn't even do that. He had everything he needed at home.

  "You can go. I want you to have fun. When is it?"

  She gave him the date, but he wanted to know what hours.

  "Nine to eleven."

  "So you should be back here no later than, say, one a.m.?"

  She sat up a bit, looking down into his eyes. "You're giving me a curfew?" she asked. She didn't sound upset about it but more curious.

  "Yes. I don't want you out on the roads at all hours of the night. How are you getting there?"

  "I'm not sure. I was going to offer my limo—"

  "I'll take care of that. Then I don't have to worry about any of you girls getting drunk or you getting into trouble if I find out you let someone who was drunk drive you home. I'll have it stocked with the best champagne, flowers, and a nosh bar, in case you get hungry on your way to or from the city."

  She pouted, which was something she rarely did, thankfully. But she did look pretty doing it.

  "Allegra…" he warned

  "You want us to use your limo so that you can keep tabs on me and spoil my fun," she not quite whined. He had a very stringent no whining rule.

  To her surprise, Enzo laughed. "Honey, I'll always keep tabs on you. I've already made provisions in my will so that, even if I'm gone, someone I trust will be looking out for you."

  Her stunned surprise showed on her face, and she tucked that bit of information aside to mull over later. "But I want to use my own limo and driver."

  Enzo tilted his head and laid a finger along her jaw. "My limo, my driver, or you don't go at all."

  Her lower lip became quite prominent and threatened to quiver, and he had to hide a smile at how cute she looked, but he didn't need her to know that he thought that.

  Instead, he pushed her to make a decision quickly. In some ways, he coddled her surprisingly well—practically waiting on her hand and foot if she wasn't feeling well, which she hadn't thought at the time was very Dommish, but she'd reconsidered that opinion. She was his, and he took care of what was his. "What's your decision? Are you going to go or not? Make it now, or I'll make it for you."

  Sometimes, him pushing her to submit made her feel even more submissive. Sometimes not. This was definitely one of the latter times. Her face went dark with anger. She wanted to stomp her foot. She wanted to yell at him that she'd decide in her own good time—what difference did it make to him when she decided? She wanted to hit him, so much so that her hands balled into fists. Both actions would get her into deep trouble, of course.

  And she knew he would be even less likely to wait for her to make up her mind than he was to wait for her to ask anything. "Oh, all right, I'll go," she said ungraciously.

  "Allegra!" he chided strongly. "Do I need to blister your behind for the fourth time today? It sounds very much like I do."

  "No, Sir, please!" She would do anything to avoid another spanking today, although she knew that she had no control over whether or not he bent her over and paddled her bottom again, regardless of how well behaved she was. But it didn't help her to do things that she knew he wouldn't like. "Thank you for permission to go out with my friends, Sir," she said, sincerely contrite.

  "That's better. But I think you need a lesson, anyway, little girl."

  Allegra began to cry immediately at his words, knowing how hard this punishment would be to get through, considering the delicate condition her bottom was already in.

  But Enzo already had her bent over the edge of his desk, reaching in the drawer for a ruler he'd put there that had a purpose unlike any other he owned. It was not for measuring anything—he had dozens of plastic ones for that—but rather, it was specifically designed to punish a girl's naughty behind. It was the regulation twelve inches long, but it was much more solid and thicker—even than the other wooden ones. It had all of the earmarks of a normal ruler, except that it had her name engraved on the back in very pretty script, and the first four inches of it was wrapped in leather, to form a convenient handle.

  It packed a wallop, and it packed even more of one when he relentlessly laid it across bottom cheeks that had clearly already been dealt with several times that day.

  She did go—frankly more because he pushed her to than because she really wanted to, but she did have a very good time. He, of course, provided transportation—it was a gorgeous limo with all the amenities any of them could want, except, of course, men, but then the ones they were going to see proved absolutely gorgeous. They didn't go straight to the club but had dinner at a wonderful restaurant beforehand, where some of the girls noticed the new jewelry she was sporting.

  "Oh my, is that a diamond ring?" Terri asked loudly, so that everyone else at the table would turn to look, as if she had gotten engaged, of course.

  Not quite, she thought to herself. They all looked at her for an explanation, and she knew they were all much too vanilla to hear the truth.

  Enzo had given her the rings not long ago. He'd had them specially made. They were both circles of diamonds, a smaller one around the index finger and the larger around her middle finger. They looked innocuous enough, but if they were examined closely, the larger one had a tiny, delicate chain that linked it to the other. It was long enough that she had complete use of her hand, of course, but it was still a tangible reminder of her submission to him.

  He had told her that he had wanted to mark her as his own in some way, but that he couldn't stand the idea of branding her or tattooing her, or of marring her skin permanently in any way. And he loved her nipples just the way they were, although he had also told her that he'd considered having them pierced. Instead, he got her rings that were both symbolic and extravagant, and she wasn't allowed to refuse them, nor was she ever allowed to take them off unless wearing them would present some sort of danger to her. She'd be reminded of just who she was every time she looked at them, and that had been the deciding factor for him.

  Of course, the girls had already run away with themselves, trying to figure out who might have given her an engagement ring, but she hauled them back from that brink and simply told them that she'd found two rings she really liked, and that this was the cusp of a trend.

  They swallowed it whole, all vowing to do the same thing.

  The evening was a rousing success. They ate too much, they drank too much, and they tucked entirely too much money into the G-strings of the unbelievably gorgeous men who gyrated in front of them. One of them even sat on Carly's lap, and two of them practically dry humped Robin—she was the prettiest of the group.

  What surprised her was that he was there when they came out, looking like he could have been a part of the revue himself in a very expensive suit that hugged him like a glove, standing in front of a different limo than the one they had used, which was parked in front.

  "I hope you ladies had fun this evening." He smiled. He knew most of them from his long association with her family and was quickly introduced to the newer girls, all of whom were far from new, except to him. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to whisk her away from you—business matters to attend to, you know."

  Robin wandered up to her as the other girls were being helped into the limo by the driver and asked, sotto voce, "Is he the one who gave you the rings?"

  She looked so startled that someone had seen through her little ruse that she gave away the answer without having said anything.

  Enzo saw her discomfort and came to stand with his arm around Ally's waist, saying in a deep, serious voice, "We'd appreciate your discretion, Robin."

  Robin might not have grown up with these women, but she recognized Enzo Matroni, and therefore, nodded enthusiastically at his request. "Of course. You two have fun at your business, whatever that might be." She backed away as she babbled, finally practically running to jo
in her friends.

  "Well, that's one less friend," Ally murmured wryly, only half kidding.

  But Enzo didn't have the time to soothe her ruffled feathers. He helped her into the car and told Maury to step on it.

  They ended up at the cabin, although he knew she had things happening this weekend that involved work that she had to deal with, in which case, he should have brought her home. They very carefully never stepped on each other's toes when it concerned business.

  She thought, anyway.

  She let him escort her inside, then rounded on him. "What am I doing here? You know I have things to do this weekend that don't concern you."

  He had to remind himself to hold his tongue and not correct her for her tone. "I know you do, but something has come up that I need to talk to you about."

  Ally's heart fell through her stomach, and, instead of thinking that he might want to discuss something about their mutual business concerns, her mind went immediately to their personal relationship. Was he breaking up with her? Although the mere thought made her want to run and hide, she instead forced herself to stand a little taller. Whatever it was he was going to say, she could take it.

  "I want you to know that you're safe here. I know it might not look it—I made sure it didn't when I installed everything during the remodel—but we've always been surrounded by my men while we're here. And the little garage that used to be out there that your father used as a tool shed, if I remember correctly? Well, that's not a guest cottage. It's an armory. My best men are patrolling the perimeter of the property, and I have every type of the best possible security systems known to man."

  There was a reason why he'd been keeping such a close eye on her—not that he hadn't always, but he'd upped her surveillance quite a bit lately, and it was because of one man, and also—besides the fact that he always followed through on a promise—that he'd confronted her about the men who had breached the peace with him and had started to do business where it had long since been agreed that they shouldn't.

  He sighed heavily at her confused look, and then decided to just come out with it. "I'm afraid that I've uncovered a bit of a mutiny within your organization."

  She froze. She'd been trying to prepare herself for the goodbye speech she pretty much always expected from him, but this—this was a very close second as far as painful, if it was true. "What? What do you mean?" And, on second thought, almost more importantly, "How—how would you know that?"

  Enzo came to stand in front of her. "I know, because Frank Antonelli made overtures to other bosses—myself included, before we became involved—promising that he could run the family—for me—better than you can and promising to relieve you of your command." He wasn't about to tell her the disgusting details of what he'd said, which had him itching to beat the man into a pulp where he stood. But he hadn't wanted to cut off the head of the snake and leave the rest of it to foul her organization. He wanted to get not only Frankie, but everyone else who had betrayed Ally. They all had to be rooted out. And he was afraid the reality was that it wasn't going to leave her with much of a crew.

  Ally snorted. "Because he's a man, no doubt."

  "Yeah, that was the gist of it. He was looking to off you any way he could, which is why you're here, instead of with your friends. He got wind of the fact that we were on to him, and he's disappeared. And I'm afraid our relationship didn't earn you any points in his book, either. It probably stepped up his plans, frankly."

  She slid down onto one of the snack bar chairs, her head in her hands. She couldn't believe that Frank had betrayed her. He had been with her father since the beginning, and he was one of the few people he had said she could always trust. Frank, even more so than she, she had to admit finally, was the glue that had held the family together. He had the continuity that she lacked, to say nothing of the fact that she was a woman trying to play a man's game.

  "I should be with my crew," she said, heading for the door.

  Enzo stopped her simply by standing in front of her. "I'm afraid that the majority of them followed Frankie. My men are looking for them, too."

  So, it was over. It was really and truly over. Ally backed away from him, finally bumping up against the chair she'd just vacated and sitting down heavily. She'd lost the legacy her father had tried to leave her, that she had fought so hard to maintain over the past years, sacrificing a tremendous amount of her life to making sure that everything was running smoothly for everyone—but herself.

  In a way, she could almost see Frank's point, although she couldn't agree with it. And she'd bet that Enzo was right—Frank had definitely been threatened by her cozying up to him. It must've made him feel that, after all those years, he was going to be pushed aside in favor of someone Enzo chose. Christ, he probably resented the fact that her father had chosen to groom her the last months he was alive rather than turning the family over to Frank.

  Regardless, she should have seen the signs. She should have seen this coming.

  Enzo couldn't bear to see her cry. He had known about the situation for a while and had already come to grips with it, and if—when—he got his hands on Frankie, the man would become one sorry son of a bitch very quickly. But, since she was in danger, he'd put out the word that he didn't care whether he was dead or alive, as long as someone got him. In his younger days, he would have been the first one out there looking for the scumbag. But he knew now that there were much more important things for him to do as he gathered Ally into his arms and held her close while she sobbed, transferring the two of them to his big bed and tenderly undressing her.

  He even relented on his nudity rule for her, recognizing that she needed comfort now, and put her into a pair of her favorite pajamas, himself, tamping down his own desires with only modest results. Really, she could be wearing a paper sack for all he cared—his body wanted her regardless of whatever wrapper she came in. He cradled her to him, trying not to let her feel his rampant erection that was pretty much ever present whenever he was around her, especially since they had become intimate. The more he made love to her, the more he needed to. He was just shy of an animal with her any time they were alone, constantly at her, either spanking her or punishing her in some way, which turned him on no end, or fucking her. He knew he ought to dial back the intensity, but he wasn't even sure he could anymore. She was like a drug to him, and in his younger days, he'd tried them all, but she had it hands down over any of the artificial ones.

  The least he could do was try to give her a break from his rampant horniness as her world was crumbling around her.

  Enzo did his best—at first—to keep her apprised of what was going on out in the real world while he kept her holed up here, but not long after he'd installed her there, she stopped inquiring or participating in any conversations about the situation, so he stopped telling her.

  He couldn't continue to torture her about it—it was all bad news, anyway. Even weeks later, Frankie was still on the lam and most of her people with him. She seemed entirely unwilling or unable to deal with those who had remained loyal to her, so Enzo had stepped in and rewarded them generously, then offered those who wanted it employment with him. Some took it, some didn't.

  He did tell her what he was going to do then, because it was about her men, but she didn't even act as if she'd heard him.

  She was losing weight, and because of what was going on, he wasn't able to be with her as much as he usually was, and she was losing ground. Her face wasn't beautifully pale any more, it was sickly, her hair listless and limp, her clothes—pajamas that he had continued to allow her to wear around the house, hung off her small frame.

  As much as she might have thought she was fat, the truth was she had very little in the way of reserves, and when she started losing weight, she began to look sickly almost immediately.

  He had been gone for several days, personally making sure that every lead was followed up on, and doing so, himself, in a lot of cases. And today, all of that hard work had paid off. They had found the
rat and his cohorts hiding in Canada, of all places. They hadn't done anything as of yet but were awaiting word from him on how to proceed.

  Although he thought he knew how she was probably going to react, going all stiff and pretending not to hear him, although the tears would drip silently down her face, he was going to tell her, anyway. She was entitled to know.

  He'd left her in Maury's charge, and his longtime friend had been straight with him about her as soon as he'd picked his boss up. She'd flat out refused to eat almost everything he'd gotten for her—and they were all things Enzo had said she'd loved. She ate a bit of the Ben and Jerry's, but that was it.

  "What could I do, boss? Knock her down and force feed her?"

  Enzo understood—he had been expecting that Maury would have trouble with her, but he couldn't get out of going, and he would never give anyone else permission to spank her. So, he got his crap done as fast as he could and raced back to her.

  When he entered his house, he saw her on the couch, just sitting there, a small huddled mass, no TV on or music she loved to sing to, no radio in the background or familiar iPad on her lap. She was just sitting there. He didn't think she'd moved the entire time he was gone.

  Enzo sat down on the coffee table directly in front of her and sighed. "We found him, and pretty much everyone else we're looking for. I'll take care of it. I just wanted you to know."

  She didn't say anything, but dark splotches appeared on the front of her pajamas.

  He ran his hands over his face, knowing he should be comforting her right now, but also knowing she wouldn't acknowledge it if he did. Then he realized that he desperately wanted a shower. One look at her confirmed that she probably needed one, too, so he grabbed her wrist and pulled her off the couch, refusing to take no for an answer.