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April 22 - April 28, 2024
“I’m wearing heels bigger than your dick, so if this is a pissing contest, I think it’s safe to say I win,”
“Just because someone loves and values different things than you do does not mean they are heartless, Ms. Lombardi.
Men driven by lust and love and loyalty. By our dogs and cannoli and comradery.
The only reason I did was because Frankie, Adriano, and Marco were in the doorway to the entryway enjoying the show, and I didn’t want to embarrass Elena further by disrespecting her personal space in front of my men.
“This here is Frankie, he’s the brains. Adriano is the brawn, but he also cooks like a fucking dream. Chen is our secret weapon, and Jaco here is… hey, Jaco? Why do we keep you around again?”
“Hey,” he said with a blasé shrug as if it was nothing. “You remind me of my wife. It was nothing to do.” “What’s she like?” I asked as we took the elevator down to the street level. He shot me a sidelong glance. “She’s a real bitch.” I laughed the entire ride down.
Whoever said women were terrible gossips clearly had never met an Italian man.
When I pulled away, the papers on the nightstand caught my eye. I was a curious man. And a criminal. It wasn’t in my nature to refuse myself much, and I found I didn’t even try as I reached out for the folded pages and opened them to read.
If I was going to damn myself anyway, I might as well do it by sleeping with the Devil of New York City.
“We gotta go,” Frankie grunted from beside us. “You can do that in the car.”

