Run Posy Run (Underboss Insurrection, #1)

by Cate C. Wells

After a hard-fought game, he’d spend a full thirty minutes grilling me about my strategy, but he didn’t have even thirty seconds to listen about that video.

Still. I wish I could go back. But with a gun. I’d tell Dario Volpe exactly what I think of him, and I’d take his watch and his damn phone. He was on it all the time, too busy to bother with his toy if we weren’t playing a game.

And seeing that video broke the last part of something inside me that’s been holding on by a thread for a while. What does it matter what anyone sees anymore? It’s just flesh. Meat and bones. My body’s not me.

Instantly, his face appears on screen. Black eyes. Perfectly trimmed beard. Not a hair on his head out of place. I gasp and drop the phone. “Posy.” It’s an order. His voice drips with menace. I didn’t really think he would—I press my hand to my chest, try to contain my galloping heart. What have I done? No, no. I’m okay. He can’t trace me.

I’m not so brave now, and there’s an ache in my chest, a stupid wave of hurt feelings.

He’s wearing a white shirt with the collar unbuttoned. No tie. It’s so late, but he doesn’t look the least bit rumpled. He looks angry. Even on the small phone screen, I can tell his eyes are flashing. A cord in his neck throbs.

My heart stings. He’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life. Aquiline nose, chiseled jaw, high cheekbones. An angular face with no softness. No give.

“You kicked me out. I cheated on you, remember?” His jaw tics. “Don’t be dramatic.” My eyebrows fly up. “You said you wouldn’t let me walk away again.”

“I can keep you safe.” I’m surprised at how hard the words hit. That’s what I want more than anything—what I’ve always wanted. And it’s such an obvious lie. I blink furiously and force a smile. “I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t worry.” Dario flashes his white teeth, baring his sharp incisors. “I’ll kill him.” “Don’t do it on my account. He did me a favor.” Dario’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean?” “If he hadn’t shared the video, I wouldn’t know what you are.”

What do you call a person who can’t feel? Who fakes it? A psychopath?” He blinks, his expression unchanged. Ice shoots down my veins. I stumbled on it, but I think I’m right.

I’ve had a lot of time to think. When you take away all the things Carolyn did, all the pretty stories I told myself, what’s left? A man who used me and put me away when he was done, neatly, like any of his games. A man with no close relationships, no friends, no interactions except for business.

He’s defective. Missing a piece. How did I not see it? I was raised with petty criminals and mobsters. I was always easy to take advantage of, but never naïve. I know what men can be; I just can’t resist hoping ...

He can’t really think this thing between us is repairable. It has to be a ploy. Does he think if he offers me enough money, I’ll trot my happy ass straight back into the lion’s den? Is he on Renelli’s bad side because he lost track of me?

Bullshit. Who’s standing there, coaching him on what to say? How to approximate a human with real feelings? I bet it’s Ray.

Thinking back, the only truly genuine emotion I think I’ve seen him express was that day in his office, watching the video. He was seething with rage. Not because he thought he’d lost my affection, but because I was a whore. I’d given away what belonged to him. And everyone could see.

He hated that. I have an idea. I press my lips so he can’t see my smirk, and I switch to my knees, bending over to readjust the camera so it tilts up. “What...

His face is as hard as ever, but his eyes gleam. “Does Ray like this? Does he want more?” “Posy—” he breathes, his voice tight. “What?” I ask when he doesn’t go on. “Show me your pussy.” Heat floods between my legs. “No.”

He swallows. I see his Adam’s apple bob. He might not have any feelings, but he’s into this. Me.

“Tell me where you are.” His voice is lower now. “No.” I like this, his eyes burning and intent on every move I make, my hands stroking soft, goose-bumped skin, my pussy swollen and aching. I like making myself feel good while I tell him no.

“It was a mistake. I’ll make it right.” My breath is coming faster. I haven’t been this turned on in a long time. When Dario and I first got together, he made me hot just by looking at me. Then I learned he wa...

He flashes another glance to the side. Who’s there? He clearly doesn’t care if they see my tits. I guess I’m not worth getting possessive over since everyone in the organization has seen me take it in the ass. Suddenly, the room is too cold. This isn’t exciting. It’s sad, and I’m pathetic. I snatch my T-shirt and drag it over my head.

“Posy—” he says and reaches for the screen. “Show’s over,” I say, tugging my hair loose from the collar. My phone pings. Another tip. This time a thousand dollars. I don’t like this game anymore. I reach forward, tap a button, and Dario’s face disappears.

She’s not horny wherever she’s hiding out; she’s not trying to make me miss what I can’t have. She sees now what I am. She’s figured out that I don’t love her. I don’t have those kinds of feelings.

No, she’s playing a game. My lips twitch. I love to play games with Posy Santoro.

I drum my fingers on the desk. This has gone on too long. I want her back. I can’t focus on work. I’m taking ill-advised risks. For the first time in years, I’m getting trounced by the Dow.

She’s going to pay in flesh when I get her back. Every lost minute, every bad trade, she’s going to work out on her back.

He needs to replace Tony with Lucca now before Lucca decides the time is ripe to give himself a promotion.

Her hair is still long with soft, golden blonde waves. She’s lucky she didn’t change it. If she did, I’d punish her for that, too.

“She’s not in love with me anymore.”

He’s been with me since I became a made man, but he doesn’t understand what I am. He treads lightly, careful of my feelings. He hasn’t accepted that I don’t have any.

I shrug it off. It hardly matters. Soon enough, Posy Santoro will be under my roof again. Mine to do with as I please. I held back before. I don’t have any reason to now. My mouth waters. I can hardly wait.

Ray is soft when it comes to Posy. I’ve noticed him cover for her. Kick shoes she carelessly left in the foyer under a bench so I don’t see. She’s going to be home soon. He needs to understand how it’ll be.

This is where I had decided I wanted Posy, but it was packed that night.

I’d been watching her for a few months. I knew I wanted to fuck her, but she’d been with Frankie Bianco. And she’s a Santoro. There were good reasons not to scratch the itch. She noticed my eyes on her. She wandered closer and closer. She’d smiled at me, drunk and giddy. I told her to dance for me, and she did.

and it was good, but not earth shattering. Her place was cramped and disorganized. It made my skin crawl. I didn’t even take my pants off. I was buckled and set to bail when I saw the chess set on her coffee table. A cheap plastic and cardboard number.

We played. She beat me. Twice in a row. I won the third time because she started drifting off to sleep. It was like finding a twenty lying in the gutter. A diamond in the rough. I moved her in with me as soon as I could, and I started polishing.

It was a fool’s errand. She’s messy like her apartment. The kind of woman who lets her boyfriend tape her taking it up the ass. Who lets a mook like Frankie Bianco smack her around. A...

When I get her back, things are going to be different. She’s going to know her place. She’s not going to dare to p...

She’s breathing heavily. “Are you fucking someone?” I demand. An asshole skulking in the hall, holding his woman’s purse, smirks in my direction. I shove the door shut with my shoe. “Yup,” she pants. “Just hopped off a dick. What are you doing?” “You’re not funny.” “I’m hilarious. You have no sense of humor.”

“Ding, ding. Gotta keep it tight for the fans.” She blows me a kiss and winks. My gut sours. I knew the veal was undercooked.

“I’m in your brain, stalker.” She grins. “I’m all up in your gray matter. I bet you can taste me.” She’s baiting me. Why? Hell, I don’t really understand why she’s reaching out to me at all. A smart woman would cut all ties. A truly smart woman would never have gotten involved with me in the first place. Good for me Posy is a smart woman with one hell of an Achilles heel.

She struggles against a smile and loses. A strange feeling sloshes in my stomach.

“You’re a manipulative asshole.” “Why did it take you so long to figure that out?” I’m genuinely curious. She’s a brilliant strategist, but with people, she sees what she wants to see.

“I don’t know. Wishful thinking.” “I would think that with your experiences, you’d have learned to be wary by now.” She tenses. I probably shouldn’t have said that.

I might not know her birthday, but I listen. When we first got together, she went through a confessional phase. Told me her life story. She cried, but I think she felt better afterwards. She didn’t bring it up again. On the screen, her eyes shine and her chin wobbles.

“I’m sure you were warned off,” I point out. The women in our circle are terrified of me. They think I’m a monster. “But you fell in love with me so easily.” “I don’t love you anymore.” Her voice is small. I grit my teeth.

Come back. I can protect you.” “Why would you? You hate me.” “I don’t.” It’s the truth, as far as it goes.

“You don’t care what happens to me. I doubt you care what happens to anyone. But you need to call the shots, don’t you? You can’t stand that the girl who let everyone walk all over her won’t lay down for you.”

She has this front, and it’s paper thin. Everyone can see through it. That’s why men take advantage of her. She’s defenseless, and it’s obvious, but it’s a matter of pride for her to take whatever she’s dealt and shrug it off.