__________________

DESPARADO

♧

RIHANNA ______________________

I KNEW CELINE had left the moment the car passed through the gate. I had eyes on her everywhere. I had since the day we got here. It was our last day in Tulum, and of course, she had to pull a stunt like this.

I pulled up the surveillance feed and saw her slipping into a sleek black sports car—wearing something I wouldn't even classify as an outfit. And there was a man. Holding the door open for her. My wife. My fucking wife?

I sent the footage off, dialing before I even processed the full scope of my anger. The line barely rang before it was answered.

"Get me everything on the guy."

I didn't wait for a response before grabbing my keys and heading to my car. As I passed the living room, Koko, Val, and Malakai were curled up on the couch, too caught up in Love Is Blind to notice me.

The information came through as soon as I settled into the driver's seat.

Matias LeBlanc.

Nepo baby of Gregorio LeBlanc—the biggest car supplier in the underworld. A silver-spoon bastard who had everything handed to him, and apparently, he had his hands on my wife six years ago when she first came to Tulum.

A fling.

My fingers clenched around the wheel.

They were at some rooftop restaurant.

I exhaled sharply, forcing my grip to relax, but it didn't stop the way my blood burned under my skin.

I was going to fucking kill him.

I pressed my foot down harder on the gas, but it wasn't enough. I needed a faster car. I was already pushing 120 mph, but it still felt too slow.

I switched gears swiftly, my grip on the wheel tightening as I watched the minutes tick by. The closer I got, the worse it got. My pulse pounded in my ears, my jaw locked so tight I thought I'd break a tooth.

I had closed the door on my wife once, and now this was my fucking afternoon? Chasing her down because some prick thought he could play nostalgia games with a married woman? With my woman?

I swore, if that bastard so much as breathed too close to her, I was going to snap his wrist clean off and use it as a fucking keychain.

I parked down the street, stepping out of the car with a calculated slowness that didn't match the storm brewing inside me. My hands twitched at my sides, itching to do something—break something. I forced myself to breathe, to wait.

The rooftop was dimly lit, candlelight flickering across polished tables and expensive plates. I spotted them instantly. Her. Him. Sitting across from each other like this was just another fucking night in Tulum, like she wasn't my wife.

Celine leaned back in her chair, a glass of wine in her hand, looking effortlessly beautiful. That same smirk—the one she'd given me a thousand times—was on her lips as she listened to whatever bullshit Matias was saying. And him? He was leaning in just enough, his elbow resting on the table, eyes locked on her like he thought he had a chance.

I walked to the bar, keeping my back straight, shoulders loose. I ordered a scotch, neat, and took a seat where I had the best view of them without being seen.

I wasn't going to storm over there like a jealous idiot. Not yet.

I sipped my drink, feeling the burn slide down my throat, but it wasn't enough to cool the fire in my veins. My fingers drummed against the glass as I watched him lean closer. Her fingers tapped against her own glass as she listened.

The way she was looking at him... no, the way he was looking at her—it made something sharp twist inside me.

Each second that passed, each casual laugh, each glance, I could feel it building. The anger. The possessiveness. The fucking need to remind her, and him, exactly who she belonged to.

I tilted my glass, letting the ice clink softly.

Matias smiled at her.

I clenched my jaw.

He reached for the bottle to refill her glass.

I exhaled slowly, gripping the glass so hard I thought it might crack.

This was the last fucking drink he was ever going to have.

I swirled the scotch in my glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light. It was the only thing keeping my hands busy—keeping me from wrapping them around Matias LeBlanc's fucking throat.

Celine shifted in her seat, crossing her legs, the slit of her dress sliding open just enough to catch his attention. My grip tightened.

Matias smirked.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stay seated. He wasn't even trying to hide it. The way his eyes moved over her, the way he leaned in, the way his fingers almost brushed hers as he poured more wine into her glass.

Celine wasn't naive. She knew. She saw the way he was looking at her, and yet, she didn't move away. She let him flirt.

I rolled my shoulders back, took another sip of my drink. Letting him believe he had any sort of shot with her was almost amusing. Almost.

But then Matias reached for her hand.

It was barely a touch. A light graze of fingers against her knuckles as he laughed at something she said. A simple, meaningless gesture—one that shouldn't have meant anything at all.

And yet, my entire body went still.

I set my glass down carefully.

Celine didn't pull away.

A sharp pulse of heat ran through my veins. My jaw clenched so hard I swore I heard my teeth grind.

I could hear my own heartbeat over the music, over the distant hum of conversation, over the fucking blood roaring in my ears.

Matias lifted her hand slightly, still smiling, still talking—like he wasn't playing with fire. Like he didn't realize he had just made the biggest fucking mistake of his life.

And that was it.

The last thread of restraint snapped.

I pushed my chair back, slow and deliberate, the sound scraping against the floor as I stood. The bartender glanced at me, then at my untouched glass, but I didn't spare him a look.

I was already moving.

My fingers flexed at my sides as I weaved through the tables, slow, controlled steps carrying me toward them.

Celine's eyes flicked up first.

Her smirk was already forming before I even reached them.

Celine's smirk was already forming before I even reached them.

She knew. She fucking knew.

Her fingers slipped from Matias's hand as I stepped between them, my presence casting a long shadow over the table. Matias barely had time to blink before I grabbed the bottle of wine he had so graciously poured for my wife and tilted it, watching the deep red liquid spill over the pristine white tablecloth.

A slow, deliberate ruin.

Matias glanced up at me, confusion flickering across his face before he schooled it into something more neutral. "Antonio." He nodded, leaning back in his seat like he hadn't just been seconds away from losing his fucking hand. "Didn't know you were in town."

I tilted my head. "Didn't know you were stupid enough to touch what's mine."

His expression didn't change, but the way his fingers curled against the edge of the table told me everything I needed to know.

Celine sighed, taking a slow sip of her wine—unbothered, as always. "You're embarrassing yourself, tesoro."

I didn't look at her. My attention stayed on Matias, who was smart enough not to move, not to speak.

"See, I'm a generous man," I said, rolling my shoulders back. "I believe in second chances. But not when it comes to her."

Matias exhaled sharply through his nose, like he wanted to laugh but knew better. "It was just a conversation, Antonio."

I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "And yet, you're still breathing."

Celine sighed again, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "Are you done?"

I finally looked at her.

She had her chin propped on her hand, eyes heavy-lidded and amused, like I wasn't five seconds away from snapping this bastard's wrist and feeding it to the fucking fish.

"Did you have a nice drive?" she asked, voice syrupy sweet.

I smiled, slow and sharp. "Get up."

Her eyes sparkled. "Make me."

I exhaled through my nose, stepping back just enough to give her space to move. A silent choice. One she barely even thought about before pushing her chair back and rising gracefully to her feet.

She smoothed her hands over her dress, tilting her head at me. "Satisfied?"

I ignored the way her tone curled around the word, the way she was trying to get under my skin even now.

Instead, I turned back to Matias, who hadn't moved, who was still watching us like he hadn't just been handed his fucking life back.

I let my hand drop onto his shoulder, squeezing just enough for him to feel it. "Enjoy the rest of your night, LeBlanc."

Then I took Celine's wrist and led her out, my grip firm but careful, my blood still running hot as we stepped into the cool night air.

And despite the anger still simmering in my chest, despite the way my jaw ached from clenching it too hard, I couldn't ignore the way Celine's lips curled when she glanced up at me.

Like she had won.

Like she was always going to.

She didn't speak.

Didn't apologize. Didn't explain.

She just sat there, her fingers resting on her thigh like she hadn't just spent the last hour in another man's presence, in another man's fucking car. Like she hadn't tested every ounce of control I had left.

The car pulled into the villa, tires scraping against the pavement as I threw it into park.

Celine barely moved before I grabbed her wrist, yanking her toward me so fast she gasped. Her face was inches from mine, her scent filling my lungs, her lips parting as I ran my tongue over my teeth, forcing myself not to devour her on the spot.

"You think this is a fucking game?" My voice was low, dark—gritted between my teeth.

She blinked up at me, her expression unreadable. "I think you're overreacting."

I inhaled sharply through my nose.

"Overreacting?" My grip on her tightened. "You walked into another man's car, let him put his fucking hands on you, let him look at you like he had a fucking chance, and you call this an overreaction?"

She wet her lips, and my eyes dropped to the movement.

"You're hurting my wrist."

I didn't let go. If anything, I squeezed harder. "You didn't seem so fucking delicate when you were sitting across from him, smiling like you didn't belong to me."

Her eyes flashed. "I don't belong to anyone."

I laughed, low and cruel. "That's cute, princesa. Real fucking cute."

I yanked her forward and crushed my lips against hers, biting down on her bottom lip so hard she whimpered. She tried to pull away, but I chased her, fisting her hair and deepening the kiss, swallowing her protests.

When I finally pulled back, her breath was ragged, her pupils blown wide.

I smirked. "Try that shit again, and we'll see just how much you belong to me."

She exhaled, tongue swiping across her swollen lip. "Sounds like a threat."

"It's a fucking promise."

I didn't give her a chance to respond before I was out of the car, hauling her over my shoulder, ignoring the way she squeaked in surprise as I carried her through the villa.

The second the bedroom door shut behind us, I threw her onto the bed.

Celine propped herself up on her elbows, chest rising and falling, lips still glistening from my bite. "Took you long enough."

I was on her in a second. One hand wrapped around her throat, pressing just enough to make her eyes flutter, the other gripping her hip as I pinned her down.

"You like testing me, don't you?" My thumb pressed against her pulse, feeling the quick, erratic beat. "You like seeing how far you can push before I snap?"

Her fingers wrapped around my wrist, nails digging in, her breath coming out in short, shaky puffs.

I leaned in, my teeth grazing the shell of her ear before biting down. She inhaled sharply, arching up, and I chuckled darkly against her skin.

"You drive me fucking insane," I muttered, kissing down her jaw, biting her lip again just to hear her gasp. "And yet, here I am, still giving you everything you fucking want."

A knock on the door shattered the tension.

"Yo, you two decent?"

Celine groaned, head dropping back against the mattress. "For fuck's sake."

I let out a slow breath, pressing my forehead to her shoulder before muttering, "I'm gonna kill her."

Val knocked again. "We're heading out for the last night in Tulum. If you're done with whatever husband-wife dramatic bullshit you've got going on, get dressed and come drink."

I met Celine's gaze.

Her lips curled into a smirk. "Looks like you have a choice, marido." She trailed her fingers down my chest, teasing, challenging. "Party with our friends... or finish what you started?"

I grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, my breath hot against her cheek. "You're lucky I don't fuck you right here and let them hear every fucking sound you make."

Her breath hitched.

Val knocked again, this time more impatient.

Celine laughed softly, shifting beneath me. "Guess we better go then."

___________________________________

well well let's all stand up and give Celine a round of applause and throw Antonio a box of Durex condoms 😛😇 that was something...lowkey had to use everything in me to make Antonio jusy threaten Matias and not actually have him beat up and jumped 😭😭

and for those of you who were asking , you WILL be getting more scenes of them doing actual more work with the mafia and more of Celine in action as Taipan as well as the progression of how dangerous the Genovese and Luciano families are.

but anyways tysm for reading !! how did we like this chapter??

Please remember to stay hydrated !!

-zio 🍸