Leopard's Fury Page 32

  Emilio was all smiles, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes when he looked at Alonzo. "I hear congratulations are in order," he said without preamble once introductions were made.

  Alonzo inclined his head. "Thank you."

  Emilio turned his gaze on Joshua. "I thought you said she was unavailable. Was I mistaken?"

  Joshua smiled easily. "I'm sorry, Emilio. I knew that Alonzo was courting my cousin, but they were keeping it under the radar. I didn't want there to be any bad feelings between you two should a misunderstanding have occurred."

  Emilio nodded, still hanging on to his smile. "Let's get down to business."

  Elijah stood up and went to the large screen, bringing up a conference table with seven men seated at it. "Gentlemen, can you hear us clearly?"

  "Yes, Elijah. We're ready." The man at the head of the table tapped his palm several times as an indicator that all talk should cease. "We've come together to discuss what should be done with Patrizio Amodeo's territory. Several suggestions have been made and three people's names have been put up to take over. We need to vote. Emilio has put in a request. The two territories are next to each other and it would make some sense. Elijah has put in the name of a man wronged by Amodeo. It is unexpected and highly unusual to say the least, but he has backing in this. Two others have put in Alonzo Massi's name as he was also wronged by Amodeo."

  Emilio's smile faded. Before he could say anything, Alonzo did. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but my territory is already quite large and still new to me. With the advice of the men here at this table, I've been slowly working to understand the scope of Antonio's businesses. They are vast and complex. To take on Amodeo's territory at this time would be spreading myself thin. I prefer to keep the Arnotto legacy strong."

  Several of the bosses at the conference table nodded their heads in approval, as did Emilio. He was smiling again.

  "Emilio, you have the floor," Mario Esposito said.

  Emilio nodded and stood up. "I have been in this business now many years. My father was in this business of ours. Patrizio wronged Alonzo, it is true, and he should never have betrayed our alliances that way. He was a man with little regard for others. His soldiers are without guidance and his businesses left in chaos. I believe I can provide that guidance quickly as I was privy to quite a few of Patrizio's dealings." He sat down.

  "Ulisse?" Mario prompted.

  Ulisse nodded. "I will cast my vote for Emilio."

  "Elijah, you have another candidate in mind?" Mario said.

  Elijah stood. He made an imposing figure. He was far younger than Emilio and looked as tough as nails. He'd been born into the life and he'd worked his way up. His territory was international. "Patrizio Amodeo harmed more than one man. Mitya Amurov is the man his hit squad shot."

  There was instant silence. The name Amurov was known throughout the world as one of the most brutal and powerful names in the business. "Mitya is the son of Lazar Amurov, although he is no longer affiliated with his father's businesses. He was nearly killed. He grew up in this business of ours. He would come in under the alliance here with Alonzo, Joshua, Fredo, Emilio and Ulisse."

  "No. No." Emilio jumped to his feet. "He's Russian. We can't get in bed with the Russian mob. They are never satisfied with their territories. They always seek more. Always. No, this man cannot possibly join us."

  "Emilio." Mario's voice held warning. "The man sitting across from you, the one you know as Alonzo Massi, is in fact Russian. He is Fyodor Amurov, son of the late Patva Amurov. Fyodor joined Antonio's soldiers many years ago, and Antonio thought it best that he become Italian."

  That was the story Elijah had sold to the other bosses and they believed him. They weren't all Italian American. Two were just plain American. It made sense to them that Antonio would want to keep the origins of his soldier, a valued enforcer, from the others, especially that he was Russian. They had a loose alliance with the bratya, but they didn't necessarily want them in their ranks. Now one was a boss and another was put before them as a potential boss.

  "No." Emilio shook his head again. "Absolutely not. These men operate separately from the organization. They don't recognize one collective group or head. Mario, listen to me. I have had dealings with them and they . . ."

  Mario lifted his head. "Dealings with them? In what capacity? You said nothing of dealing with the Russians."

  There was a sudden silence. Emilio subsided, settling himself at the table with great dignity. Alonzo could see he was very careful not to look at Ulisse, and the other man stared down at the table with a small frown on his face.

  "It was nothing more than an inquiry but it didn't go anywhere," Emilio said. "I'm just pointing out that they think differently than we do."

  Alonzo lifted his hand. "Emilio is right. The brotherhood in my country is run very differently. It is for that very reason that I decided to come here and work for Antonio Arnotto. He taught me a better way. The way of a family."

  Ulisse sighed and shook his head. "Antonio was a great man. He spoke highly of you at all times. He put his granddaughter in your hands, and more than once you kept her safe in spite of impossible odds. Everyone knows your reputation. But what do we know of Mitya Amurov? His father, Lazar, is one of the cruelest and bloodiest men known to us. He's a shark. He eats people and territories alive. Your father was . . ."

  "Patva Amurov. Lazar is my uncle. Mitya is my cousin. My entire family was wiped out when our territory was attacked. Only Timur and Gorya survived. I came to the United States to work for Antonio Arnotto when he reached out to me. I realized had we been structured differently, that wouldn't have happened. I would still have my family. Although their families and territories were still intact, I knew Mitya and Sevastyan felt the same as I did. There had to be a better way. They followed me here."

  "Alonzo"--Ulisse leaned forward--"what of your uncles? What happens when they find out their nephews and sons are working for us? What happens when they demand we do business with them? And they will."

  Alonzo shrugged. "Any problem with my uncles will stay my problem. If they wish to go to war, it is with Mitya and me. They are businessmen above all else. It would be a disaster for them to go to war with all of you. You and I both know it is a symbiotic relationship. If they ask for favors, Elijah will be told immediately."

  He'd just cut the legs out from under Emilio, but he did it in such a way that he seemed to be backing him up. He couldn't be faulted on his logic. Antonio Arnotto had been considered one of their best businessmen. He was well respected by everyone, as was Elijah Lospostos. Alonzo had the endorsement of both men. He had offered to take on any problems with the bratya.

  "Mitya grew up in this business. He understands what is needed to lead. He was groomed for leadership, but he came up from the bottom so he appreciates his soldiers. He understands loyalty and family."

  Emilio snorted. "The bratya does not hold family sacred. There are rumors that Lazar Amurov murdered his own wife to prove his loyalty."

  "Lazar Amurov murdered his wife because he likes to kill," Alonzo explained in that same low tone devoid of all expression. "As did my father and Sevastyan's father. My father killed my mother. Some things should be sacred. Antonio Arnotto cherished his granddaughter. I saw that every day. I want a family. That is important to me. This . . ." He swept his arm around to take in the conference table and the men sitting there. "This is a family. This is where I belong."

  Fredo nodded. "I knew Mitya Amurov when he was attending the university with my son. He is a good man and very intelligent. He is also extremely loyal and has connections we all could use once he is established."

  There was a small silence. Mario nodded slowly. "If no one else has anything to say . . ."

  Ulisse stood up. "I respect all that Fyodor has to say, but the fact remains that he acquired his territory under false pretenses. He acquired it as Alonzo Massi, not Fyodor Amurov. I know this man's reputation, and he is one of the worst of the Amurovs. How do we k
now he's telling us the truth? Excuse me, Fyodor, but we need to make absolutely certain of what we're doing here. Loyalty is needed in our business, and you were not raised that way."

  Elijah stood up, facing Ulisse. "This man is known to me. He used that fierceness to protect Siena, my wife. He stood for her when every other one of her grandfather's soldiers stood solidly behind the man who beat, kidnapped and tried to rape her. He risked his life for her over and over, even to the point of coming to my home when she was with me. Alone. Knowing I would kill him if he made one slipup. He still came to make certain she was safe. That is loyalty. He wasn't getting paid. Antonio was dead. He'd opposed Paolo Riso and there was a price on his head. Still, he didn't run. He didn't throw in with Riso; he protected Siena. That's loyalty. That's a sense of family. I knew who he was and so did Siena. I asked him to take over the Arnotto territory for Siena. He didn't want to do it, said he was a soldier, Siena's soldier. That's loyalty, Ulisse. I don't think you ever have to question his loyalty or his desire for a family. He's already that much a part of this thing of ours."

  Elijah sank back into his chair, leaving Ulisse still standing. The man stood for another few moments while the seconds ticked by. Alonzo saw Emilio's hand come up to subtly tap Ulisse's wrist. Only then did the man nod as if he understood and agreed with everything Elijah had said.

  "We vote. Everyone in favor of allowing Mitya Amurov the Amodeo territory raise their hand."

  The vote was overwhelming in favor of Mitya. Elijah had already done the preliminary work for Mitya. Emilio had made a few enemies stepping on others to get what he wanted. Now, when he was weakened by several of his companies being swallowed up and taken apart, he appeared too weak to hold on to Patrizio Amodeo's territory. More, even though the territory was small, it would have put Emilio in a stronger position, and his enemies within the organization didn't want that.

  Emilio accepted the vote graciously, hanging on to his smile while Mario asked that Mitya be brought into the room. Elijah went to get him. Alonzo studied Ulisse and Emilio. They appeared to have regained their genial smiles, but Alonzo was leopard and he smelled the anger under the surface. More, he scented conspiracy.

  Ulisse had come prepared to back Emilio's bid for the territory. Ulisse never did anything without getting something out of it. Alonzo just had to figure out what it was that Ulisse wanted from Emilio. Whatever it was had to be extremely important to him. He had aligned himself with a man everyone considered a toothless shark. That made him look weak, but he'd done it in front of the council. Why? The question nagged at Alonzo.

  Mitya followed Elijah into the room. He stood absolutely straight, although his skin was nearly gray and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. He inclined his head and refused to so much as grip the back of a chair for support.

  "Sit," Mario commanded. "I see you have not fully recovered."

  Elijah pulled out the chair next to him and indicated for Mitya to take the seat. He did so slowly.

  "I'm alive, that's what counts," Mitya said.

  The next hour was spent with the various bosses asking Mitya questions. Alonzo paid attention to their voices more than their expressions. All the while he watched both Emilio and Ulisse. They both asked questions, but they were no longer confrontational, as if they both had accepted the council's decision.

  No way had Emilio accepted it. Anger and the need for revenge came off of him in waves. He sat there smiling, and all the while, Alonzo was certain he was plotting retaliation. But against whom? Mitya? Elijah? Him? Where would his rage be directed, and what form would his retaliation take? Why was Ulisse aligning himself with Emilio? Good questions with no answer.

  In the end, Mitya was brought wholly into the organization. He now was boss of Patrizio Amodeo's territory. That meant the alliance was really spread thin. Timur had been approached by Elijah first, but he'd steadfastly and adamantly refused to leave his brother without adequate protection. Timur had no desire to be a boss in any way. He was determined to stay close to Alonzo and Evangeline. Alonzo was secretly pleased, although he wasn't about to let his brother know.

  "I believe we're done here, gentlemen," Mario said. "I trust you'll take care of things there, Elijah."

  Elijah nodded. Good-byes were said. Coffee and Evangeline's desserts were served. Throughout it all, Emilio and Ulisse entered the conversations and laughed with the others as if they were all good friends. Alonzo didn't believe it for one minute.

  19

  EVANGELINE woke, every nerve ending alert and on fire. She didn't have a stitch on, something that happened often. Her nightclothes often ended up in shreds on the floor beside the bed. When she woke, her clothes were gone as if they'd never been. Alonzo was always neat once the sun came up.

  Right now, he was devouring her, one of his all-time favorite things to do. She caught his hair in both fists and shifted her head on the pillow to get a better look at him. The moon spilled through the open window. They had made the master bedroom their own and even the covered porch outside their sliding glass door couldn't block that bright ball from illuminating Alonzo's harsh features.

  His face was carved in sensual lines. He concentrated on using tongue and teeth to get what he wanted. Her body responded to his growls to be still with more honey and cinnamon spice spilling into his mouth.

  "Baby," she whispered. Nothing could make her feel the way Alonzo could. So alive. So loved. No matter what he did to her, she felt thoroughly loved. He enjoyed going down on her. He stayed focused and was in absolute control of her body when he held her still and completely open to him.

  She tried not to squirm, but it was impossible, her hips bucking, trying to get closer to his mouth. She knew she was already close. Her body wound tighter and tighter until she wanted to scream for release. He pulled back abruptly, and rubbed his shadowed jaw on both inner thighs. She always found that incredibly sexy when he did that, sending heat ratcheting up another notch.

  "Fyodor," she protested. "Stop playing around." But she knew that was exactly what he was doing, playing around. He liked to play--and he was really, really good at it.

  He growled but didn't lift his head. One arm clamped tight around her hips, leaving him one free hand--and he was wicked with that hand. His mouth roamed up her inner thigh and then he bit down. At the same time his thumb brushed little caresses over her inflamed clit. She yanked on his hair in retaliation, even as her body spilled more honey for him. It was a vicious circle. He knew every way to bring her body pleasure. His mouth, his teeth, his fingers. He drove her up again and again, right to that precipice, but he never relented, despite her pleading, and let her fall over.

  "Fyodor, please." Now she didn't want anything but him. Her mind had gone to complete chaos, a roaring in her ears, blood thundering through her veins.

  Alonzo could barely breathe with wanting his woman. Every time he touched her, no matter how often, how long, the addiction to her grew, not lessened. He knew it had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with emotion. He'd had plenty of sex and never once had it been like this. So perfect.

  He loved that she never ever stopped him playing. He took her every way he could think of, and he was inventive. Sometimes he was rough. Really rough. She went up in flames for him every time. He loved that she went wild for him. That she was noisy about it. Pleading. Demanding. He loved to hear both.

  Her legs were draped over his shoulders and her exotic, spicy scent called to him. He waited another heartbeat while she squirmed and yanked at his hair. He stabbed his tongue deep. She screamed his name, half sobbing, half commanding. She was hotter than hell, burning like a firestorm out of control. He craved the taste of her, and he couldn't get enough of her. Ravenous, he held her still while he took as much as her body would give him. He knew every way to have her spilling more for him.

  He was ruthless, using his mouth to drive her higher and higher until she was gasping, pleading, and sounded close to tears. He took her over immediately, loving
the hard earthquake tearing through her body. It was brutal. Perfect. The aftershocks providing more of what he wanted.

  He didn't wait for the ripples to stop but pushed her right back up. He stroked with his thumb, small caresses designed to make her body his. He sucked on her clit and then used his tongue to draw out the hot liquid spilling out of her just for him. She went wild. He felt feral. Primitive. He growled at her as he took what was his.

  She detonated again, a fierce quake that raced up her belly and down her thighs. He rubbed his face along her thighs again and then rose above her, dragging her to him. Her eyes were dazed, that wonderful look she got when she was gone. When he'd sent her to bliss and she couldn't think straight.

  "You're mine, Evangeline," he said. A jackhammer drilled over and over in his head. He felt savage. Possessive. He knew she could see the brutality stamped deep, those ruthless lines betraying the fact that his leopard was close. His blood pounded with a terrible need beyond anything he could imagine.

  "Yours. Absolutely." Truth rang in her voice. Honesty.

  He didn't wait. He couldn't. He pushed into her, inch by slow inch. Her folds were scorching hot, and his breath left his lungs in a hissing rush. She was a fiery inferno, her muscles gripping him so tightly he could barely catch a breath. All the while he watched her face.

  Bog. He loved her. Loved her. Lust drove him. His leopard nature drove him. Most of all, it was this. Loving her. Watching the beauty of her. That helpless need that took her over. He loved that her gaze clung to his. Her lips parted for her ragged breathing and her hips rose to meet his. Her eyes held love, but also trust. That gift not only of love but of trust. She gave it so willingly.

  He couldn't wait another minute. He buried himself deep, slamming home. There was one moment when he savored the feeling of her muscles milking him and then he moved. Hard. Fast. Over and over until she was chanting his name and her nails bit deep into his shoulders. He kept driving deep, taking her with him on the wild, insane ride.