Filthy Marcellos: Antony Read online

  “You are.”

  “I am not.”

  “You are.”

  “I am not, Cecelia!” Antony blew out a harsh breath, gritting his teeth in the process. He hated raising his voice, especially to his wife. “I am not, okay. But this feels like John to me in some way, Tesoro. This feels like him. I don’t want Lucian to end up like his father.”

  “You don’t know that he will.”

  “He’s hiding it,” Antony growled. “That reeks of John.”

  “Maybe he’s just trying to figure out what he feels.”

  Antony looked his wife over. “I didn’t have to figure out anything when it came to you.”

  “He’s not us, Antony. But like we’ve always said, he’s still a Marcello through and through. He’ll catch on quickly enough.”

  “You think?”

  “I know,” Cecelia said, winking. “I’m always right.”

  Well, Antony always let her be right.

  He didn’t mind.

  “Come to bed,” his wife demanded. “Deal with this tomorrow.”

  “This is important, Cecelia.”

  “I’m important, Antony.”

  She was.

  “Come,” Cecelia said with a nod.

  Antony followed. He always would for Cecelia Marcello.

  About the Author

  Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three very young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, a snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a spouse calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something ... when she can find the time.

  Find her on www.bethanykris.com, Facebook, her blog, or Twitter - @BethanyKris.

  Sign up to Bethany-Kris’s New Release Newsletter email list to receive notifications when new releases are out.

  Other Books in the Filthy Marcellos Series

  Filthy Marcellos: Lucian, Book One

  Filthy Marcellos: Giovanni, Book Two

  Filthy Marcellos: Dante, Book Three

  Filthy Marcellos: La Cosa Nostra is not just a choice of regime and routine, it’s a culture. Born as mafia royalty, the Marcello brothers were raised ingrained with the beliefs and rules of what it meant to be a Mafioso prince. It is for life. Their status is considered a given right. They will always be these people. They will always be Marcellos.

  For more information on the Filthy series, visit Bethany-Kris’s website at www.bethanykris.com.

  • • •

  Excerpt from Filthy Marcellos: Lucian

  • • •

  Out of the corners of his eyes, Lucian did see part of her bare shoulder and the black curls hiding her face, though. It wasn’t so much the amount of flesh she was showing as it was the peeks of what looked like a cherry blossom tattoo crawling over her shoulder and dipping down her back where it disappeared from his sight.

  “Hello, guys. I’m Jordyn. I’ll be serving you tonight, or something close to it. What’ll it be?”

  The sultry tone of her voice was something Lucian and his body noticed the moment she spoke. It was almost like a mixture of innocence and experience, if that were possible. She didn’t sound entirely bored, but she didn’t sound like she was in it to win it with her job, either.

  Dante looked to his father, his earlier comment about not consuming the drinks being silently said again. Antony must have took note.

  “A bottle of Jack, unopened. Four—” Antony stopped up short, his lips tugging down into a frown as he passed a glance towards Gio. The youngest brother certainly didn’t need to be drinking tonight. “Make that three glasses. We’ll pour.”

  Leaning forward was the worst mistake Lucian made since waking up that day. He certainly hadn’t expected to see her again. At least not in a place like this. She was on his mind all damned week, those eyes of hers, cream-like flesh, and a mouth that just at the sight alone, make his own water.

  What’d she call herself? Jordyn, was it?

  Merda.

  Shit was right—he was in so much of it.

  Suddenly, Lucian was not in the zone like he needed to be.

  He was so incredibly fucked.

  Also, Lucian realized he was right about his first assumption when he thought she had ink under her dress that day at the confessional box. Cherry blossoms started somewhere beneath the lace and leather bottoms she wore and trailed up over her side, before crossing over her left breast which was also covered by nothing but a lace and leather brassiere, and then curved over her shoulder.

  There was another tattoo, too, but in the darkness, Lucian couldn’t read the scripted words.

  Strangely, the immediate rush of possessiveness that flooded his veins surprised him. She was still so beautiful, like crazy. The more skin his gaze crawled over, the tighter his pants became. Lucian caught himself wondering what those blossoms would taste like under his tongue.

  Yeah, he was not where he needed to be. This unknown woman knocked him off kilter and she probably didn’t even know it. What was wrong with him?

  Unfortunately, his father seemed to realize his son’s abrupt change in posture and mood. “Lucian?”

  At the sound of his name, the girl’s—Jordyn, he reminded himself—eyes flashed to meet his in the corner, those dark lashes of hers blinking rapidly like she also didn’t believe what she was seeing. Lucian swallowed the thickness building in his throat. Thankfully, Jordyn didn’t act like they had ever met or seen one another before. She simply went on doing her own business.

  “Unopened bottle of Jack and three glasses. Anything else?” she asked, avoiding Lucian’s piercing gaze.

  “Yes,” Antony said, still watching Lucian closely. “The owner is Ron Daney, correct?”

  Jordyn stood a little stiffer, her shoulders squaring. “I beg your pardon?”

  “The owner is Ron Daney, Vice President of the Brooklyn chapter of The Sons of Hell,” Lucian said gruffly, trying to swallow back the huskiness forming. “We’re not ATF or the feds, let’s just be clear on that, sweetheart. Ron, he’s in tonight, yes?”

  Jordyn nodded warily. “Always is.”

  “Good,” Antony replied with a grin. “Send him a drink, whatever he likes. Do be sure to tell him it’s from a guest. Antony Marcello and his crew. Do not mistake my name when you tell him. Be sure to point me out so he sees me. Understood?”

  “Got it.”

  With that, the woman Lucian simply needed to glance at to turn his skin ablaze and his heart stuttering, was walking away.

  She didn’t look back.

  Other Books by this Author

  The Russian Guns Series

  A Russian mob boss and his Italian mafia princess made Russian queen battle through threats, death, betrayal, and life to keep their indomitable, merciless crime family and their love alive. Through it all, they hold tight to the one thing they need the most—each other. But how do you survive hurting the one person you love with your entire soul just to save them?

  The Arrangement, Book One

  The Life, Book Two

  The Score, Book Three

  Demyan & Ana: A Russian Guns Novella, Book Four (Standalone)

  Shattered: A Russian Guns Novel, Book Five (Standalone)

  For more information, visit Bethany-Kris’s website at www.bethanykris.com.

  Coming Soon

  The Chicago War

  A Filthy Marcellos Spinoff

  Deathless & Divided (Book One)

  Reckless & Ruined (Book Two)

  Scarless & Sacred (Book Three)

  Breathless & Bloodstained (Book Four)

  Copyright © 2015 by Bethany-Kris. All rights reserved.

  WARNING: The unauthorized distribution or reproduction of this copyrighted work is illegal. No parts of this work may be used, reproduced, or printed without expressed written consent by the author/publisher. Exceptions are made for small excerpts used in reviews.

  ISBN: 978-0-9
947909-3-4

  Cover Art © Hlib Shabashnyi

  This is work of fiction. Characters, names, places, corporations, organizations, institutions, locales, and so forth are all the product of the author’s imagination, or if real, used fictitiously. Any resemblance to a person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.