Needing Arturo: A Dark Mafia Billionaire Romance (Amatucci Family Book 4) Read online

  Needing Arturo

  Amatucci Family Book Four

  Sadie Jacks

  2020 Sadie Jacks

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means–electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise- without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by the United States copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, brands and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or places is entirely coincidental.

  Please note that this e-book is ONLY distributed through Amazon. If you obtained this copy from elsewhere, please email the author on the email address above, as this is a pirated copy.

  Editing by Niki Trento-Spencer

  Cover design by Natasha Williams with Dazed Designs. www.dazed-designs.com

  1st Edition

  Other books by Sadie Jacks

  Amatucci Family Series

  Chase the Pain (Released August 28, 2020)

  His Love is Pain (Released September 25, 2020)

  Sweet Pain (released October 30, 2020)

  Needing Arturo (this book you’re reading right now)

  Loving Talia (releasing January 25, 2021)

  Finding Domenico (releasing February 26, 2021)

  Freeing Massimo (releasing March 26, 2021)

  Keeping Raphael (releasing April 23, 2021)

  Circle of the Stars – PNR RH (series complete)

  Celtic gods/goddesses, dragon shifters, and druids

  Breakaway

  Bonded

  Brutal

  Brilliance

  Iron Serpent Chronicles (series complete)

  Not your typical PNR RH. This series takes a wide step to the side in terms of harems. Please note, not all characters introduced at the beginning of the series are in one harem. But every main character does get a happily ever after.

  Caged Magic

  Wild Magic

  Warring Magic

  Broken Magic

  Magic Freed

  Dedication

  First and most importantly, Jesus Christ. Thank you for the gift of life and freedom.

  Niki and Cherrie, thanks for letting me steal your names. I hope you like your character baby as much as I do.

  Angel dragons, you guys are seriously the best!

  Mom and Dad, here’s to the end of craptastic year that has seen some hard times. I love you both so much.

  2020, you jerk, I hope you rot in the deepest darkest fathoms of existence.

  TRIGGER WARNING: This book is for mature readers. Please be aware that there is talk of potentially triggering topics within this book with references and/or detailed descriptions of violence, physical, mental abuse, rape, suicide, murder, and other sensitive topics that some readers may find offensive.

  Chapter 1 – Nik

  I gritted my teeth. Tried to act like I was having fun. My body shook and jostled under the thrusting body of the guy I’d picked up at the club. He’d been pumping away for the last half hour. The only thing I was close to was being chafed raw.

  Stupid Arturo Amatucci’s face flashing in my mind. A low curl of heat twisted through me. Suddenly, it was Turo’s body that curled over mine. His skin that I dug my short nails into. I closed my eyes, sank into the —

  “Fuck, baby, yeah. Just like that,” the guy said.

  I wanted to choke him as my fantasy went up in smoke. I glared at the ceiling. This was doing nothing but pissing me off even more.

  I dropped my legs from around his waist. Pushed at his shoulders. “Okay, we’re done. You can leave now.”

  He grunted against my neck as if he thought I was joking. “Right. I know you’re having fun.”

  I threaded my fingers through his dark hair. I wanted to snatch his scalp bald. Asshole. I yanked his head up. “No. I’m not. Not only do you suck at this, you’re rubbing me raw. Get out, get off.”

  He blinked at me owlishly for a couple seconds. His dark eyes cleared after a moment. “You’re serious.”

  I nodded. Tried to pull my pelvis from his. The man didn’t weigh a lot. In the grand scheme of things, I could take him down with both hands behind my back. But I was trying not to make him cry all over me. Man tears just made me sick.

  He flicked his dark eyes between mine for a bit longer. “And if I don’t want to stop?” His tone carried ego and venom in it. The last ditch efforts of the truly weak: intimidation through size and fear.

  I shook my head, smiled. “Then be prepared. I will wreck your shit so badly you won’t be able to piss out of your dick for the rest of your natural life. So you should learn how to spell self-maintained catheter. And that’s to say nothing of your future sexual options. You’ve been a good boy up until this moment. Don’t make me hurt you, junior.”

  He snorted. Looked down the length of our joined bodies. “You talk a big game for someone underneath me right now.” He jerked his hips up into me again with a sharp stabbing motion.

  Did he think that would help his case? Make me more inclined to let him finish? Did he hook up with a lot of women who were too scared to tell him no and then stand up for themselves?

  Asshole. “Should have listened the first time.” I shifted my legs up from the outside edge of his to just below the line of his ribcage. With all of my lower body strength, I squeezed his fragile chest cavity until I felt some things pop and he screamed like a little girl right in my ear.

  His dick went limp in a flash. As he collapsed against me, I shifted and gained the dominant position. I hooked my legs around one of his while I caged his other leg with my arms. With a slight twist, I had his legs spread so far apart he would be singing soprano.

  The final nail in his particular coffin came when he grabbed at my hair like a middle school girl. What a whiny baby bitch move. I snarled low in my throat. Screaming and shouting like his balls were on fire, I showed him what fiery balls really felt like.

  I arranged my fingers into a spear and stabbed it deep into his perineum—the delicate line of skin and nerve between scrotum and anus. My grin was savage as he went limp above me. That grin wilted at the corners when he peed on both of us.

  I scooted out from under him so fast, I landed on the floor on all fours. Gagging. I pushed to my feet and hauled his pansy ass out of my bed. He was a heavy beast as dead weight, but I’d made besting bigger men into my life’s work.

  I dragged him to the front door. Smiled when I saw the snow falling from the midnight sky. “Fucker,” I said as I set his unconscious body at the top of the short stack of stairs. With a shove on his hip bone, he tumbled down the concrete steps like a wonky Slinky. He deserved more than that, but standing naked in the falling snow wasn’t exactly on my top ten list of fun things to do in the early hours of the morning.

  Rushing back into the bedroom, I grabbed up his clothes. After flinging them down the steps at him, I shut the door. Shivered. Brrrr. It was fucking cold out there.

  And I was splashed with that little bitch’s urine. I glared down at my body and ran to the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, I thanked my stars for opting for the tankless water heater. Scalding hot water on demand. One of the best perks of being hooked to PennCorp was the disposable income I had access to.

  I washed my body down at least three times before I finally felt clean
again. I pushed the memories the scent conjured out of my mind with long practice. Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed up a towel from the warmer. Wrapping myself up in it, I walked back to the front door, and parted the blinds to look through the sidelight window.

  Rolling my eyes, I walked to the kitchen. That freaking weakling was still passed out naked on the sidewalk. I snarled, grabbed up the landline phone. I stabbed in the three numbers I needed.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?” the nice lady asked.

  “Yeah…I tossed my would-be rapist, unconscious, out onto the sidewalk. He’s naked.”

  I heard a snicker in her voice. “Your address?”

  I gave it to her. “Any idea on when someone can come pick him up? He peed on himself, and while I don’t mind if he gets frostbite and loses his dick, I’m pretty sure my old lady neighbor doesn’t need to see that.”

  The operator burst into laughter. I found my first real smile of the night. “Honey, I’d pay even money to see that.”

  “I can snap a pic and send it to you,” I offered.

  “I really shouldn’t, but I’m going to accept.” She gave me her station number. “I’ve got an ambulance and at least one officer showing as responding. Do you want me to stay on the line with you?”

  I sighed. “I guess I’m going to have to answer some questions?”

  She chuckled. “Probably. But good on you for protecting yourself and dropping that trash at the curb.”

  I smiled. “Thank you. I wish more women knew how to do it. As much as I enjoy talking to you, I suppose I should go get dressed.”

  “I hope you scrubbed him away, sweetie. Have yourself a good night.”

  “You, too. Thanks.” I hung up.

  Looking out the window over my sink, I saw that he was at least moving around on his own. Granted, it looked more like shivers than actual purposeful body movement. But he had given serious thought to raping me. Shivers were all he deserved from me.

  I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and walked through the living room back to my bedroom. I dried off, got into some comfy clothes. Just as I was running a comb through my long red hair, a heavy knock sounded at the front door followed immediately by someone leaning on the doorbell.

  The cop must be an asshole. I threw my comb down, stuffed my feet into grippy slippers, and walked down the hallway to the front door.

  I looked through the peephole and almost swallowed my tongue. Fuck. What the hell was he doing here?

  “Go away, Arturo,” I said through the door.

  He turned around to face the steel fire-rated door. “Cricket, why is there a man crying at the base of your stairs?”

  “Why are you in my neighborhood at two in the morning?” I asked as I studied him through the Judas hole. His dark sexy hair was just long enough to tempt my fingers. His long dark lashes cast shadows on his high cheekbones from the overhead light.

  His sexy mouth tipped up into a toe-curling smile. “Because I wanted to talk to you.”

  My mouth dropped open. “At two in the morning? What couldn’t possibly wait for the sun to rise?” Was he finally going to pull the stick out of his ass and let me screw him until our bodies threatened to give out?

  I threw the handful of deadbolts and ripped the door open. “What did you want to talk about?”

  He looked down at me, his dark eyes sweeping over my outfit. His eyes narrowed as they took in my wet hair. He turned, looked down at the weeping man, shifted to look at me again. His chin rose in the air as his cheeks went red. “Never mind. It can wait.”

  I gritted my teeth. I was done throwing myself at this stupid man. He ran hot and cold to the extreme. I was either in danger of becoming an ice cube or going up in flames at a moment’s notice.

  The ambulance and the cops arrived just as Turo spun around to descend the stairs again. He stopped, one foot hovered in the air over the next step down. “Cricket?” he asked, his voice hard.

  “They’re not for you, but Whiny Baby down there.”

  “Ms. Nikanya Pelaez?” the cop asked as he got out of his car. His hand was on his firearm.

  “Yes. The one curled in the fetal position.” I pointed to the man just in case the cop was like some of the ones I’d dealt with in my past.

  The cop smirked. He jutted his chin in Turo’s direction. “Having problems with that one?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to throw Turo under the proverbial bus, but he’d done nothing wrong. At least not wrong enough to land him in a holding cell for the night.

  Turo’s shoulders tightened the longer I kept my silence.

  “No. He’s just leaving, too.”

  Turo jolted ever so slightly.

  The cop nodded. “Are you looking to press charges, Ms. Pelaez?”

  I shook my head, smirked. “I’m sure he might want to, but no. I’m good as long as he stays away from me.”

  Turo took a step back, moved to the side. His dark brows were raised as he looked down at me. “What the hell happened, Nik?” he asked softly.

  My belly fluttered at hearing him say my name. His preferred pet name made me want to tie him into a literal pretzel and set him on fire.

  Like I said, hot and cold.

  The EMTs hot footed it over to Whiny Baby. The woman had a slower pace than the guy she was with. She looked up at me. Smiled really big. She shot me a thumb’s up.

  I chuckled softly. Gave her a little finger wave.

  The male EMT knelt next to Baby Boy.

  “She ripped it off. I swear she ripped it off,” Baby Boy shrieked. He flung himself onto his back. With his legs up in the air like one of those hipster dudes sunbathing his butthole, he clamped his hands over his eyes. “Is it gone? I swear she ripped it right off my body. I can’t look. You have to tell me.” His tears glinted in the streetlights as they slid down his temples into his hairline.

  “I didn’t even touch it after I told you to stop, you piece of shit. But not listen when a girl says no the next time, and I’ll make sure you wind up a eunuch,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over his bellyaching.

  Turo snarled under his breath, took the first step down.

  I grabbed his arm. Thankful for the layers of cloth between our skin.

  The last time he’d had his hands on my flesh ran through my mind. I shook it off. I was better than this. I didn’t chase men. Certainly not older men who looked at me with pity in their eyes.

  “I handled it,” I said.

  Turo looked at me. With him on a lower step, he was exactly my height. Bastard.

  He was quiet as he studied me. After a long moment, he nodded. “I see that. Are you okay?”

  I nodded.

  I raised my voice, turned my head slightly. “Do you need to question me or anything?” I asked the cop without looking away from Turo.

  “If you’re not pressing charges, your comments to 911 should be enough. If he presses charges, an investigation will be opened,” the law enforcement professional said.

  “Sure thing. Thanks for your speedy arrival.” I spun on my heel and walked back into the warmth of my little house.

  Just as I was getting ready to close the door behind me, I felt it catch on something slightly squishy. I turned to see Turo’s foot stuck between the jamb and the door itself. I looked up. “What do you want, Arturo?”

  His eyelids fluttered the slightest degree. He put a hand to my chest and pushed me back gently. “Don’t kung fu me, I really did need to talk to you.” He widened the space between the door until he could step inside and closed it behind himself.

  I stepped back, away from his touch. I crossed my arms, felt my shoulders hitch at the defensive nature of the pose. Damn it. I let them drop. “For the millionth time, I don’t do Kung Fu. And start talking. I need a round with my vibrator after that shitshow and I still have to work in the morning.”

  Turo’s mouth twitched at the corner as his eyes heated. “No.”

  My brows winged up. “No?” He had to
be high or ridiculously drunk. He didn’t get to tell me what to do. Ever.

  Strike One, Mr. Amatucci.

  He nodded. “Yes, no.”

  I pushed up into his personal space. My brain automatically started calculating angles and weight and mass. The space in the hallway would block me some, but if I could move fast enough, it would hinder him more than it would me.

  “You don’t get to tell me no. Not about my sex life. Ever. You declined. On multiple occasions.” I shook my head, buried the sharp pain in my chest at the rejection. “Therefore, your opinion matters less than Mr. Cry Baby’s out there.” I waved a hand at the front door.

  He leaned down, his nose less than an inch from mine. “If I knew you were going to start picking up desperate strays at Chaos, then I would have taken you up on your offer sooner.”

  Incandescent fury raged through me. Desperate strays? And how the crap did he know I’d been at Chaos? I lifted my chin. “That time has passed as well, Old King Arturo. Leave.” I clenched my fists as I turned away.

  Violence is a last resort. Violence is a last resort. Violence is a last resort.

  I chanted the mantra that had allowed me to get through college and grad school in record time. After I’d passed my GED at the age of fourteen, I’d gotten some hard lessons in being an adult. BJJ and an iron will have served me well. I wasn’t going to ruin it on this arrogant man who probably saw me as nothing more than street scum to be washed from his shoes.

  My steps were soft, measured, as I walked through the living room into my bedroom. The disarray that greeted me added more fuel to my angry fire. My room was a fucking mess.

  I stalked to the bed, ripped the sheets off. I wasn’t even willing to try to clean them. They were going straight into the bin. Another thing that asshole should be beaten for. I didn’t waste money. Ever. And here I was, throwing out perfectly good sheets because of him.