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WOO

♧

RIHANNA

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CELINE NAKED WAS the most devastating, skin-mutilating sight I had ever laid my eyes on. She was fucking exquisite. Carved from Purple Heart, painted in fawn, shaped in Kohinoor—she was a masterpiece no man deserved to touch.

And yet, she was mine. My fucking wife.

My skin burned with the agony of restraint, my very atoms devouring themselves as my hunger for her grew. Every inch of me was incinerating, the craving unbearable, the need consuming.

She was excruciating. A beautiful, unbearable ache. And I would have her.

Not yet, I promised myself. Not yet.

I was shaking. My breath came out in a slow, uneven exhale. I hadn't slept—not even for a second. I'd spent the entire night staring, dissecting her like she was some divine corpse, a relic too sacred to touch. I was going fucking insane.

She made me feral.

Blowing air through my nostrils, I forced myself to move. I had to get ready for work. I sat up, groaning at the sharp, throbbing pain between my legs. I was dying.

I glanced at her once more. Just one touch. That's all I needed.

Carefully, I dragged the tip of my finger down the smooth expanse of her leg. The moment our skin met, I jerked back like I'd been burned.

She was electrifying. My skin sizzled.

What the fuck had she done to me?

I stumbled into the bathroom, gripping the sink as my body buzzed with an ache I had no cure for.

Fucking hell.

I slammed my fist into the wall. Hard. The sharp sting barely registered. I just needed something—anything—to kill the fucking buzz crawling under my skin. I needed it to stop.

I needed her.

I needed her so fucking bad I could feel it clawing at my insides, hollowing me out from the inside. The walls felt like they were closing in, squeezing the breath from my lungs. My hands curled into fists, my knuckles raw and leaking, but I didn't care.

I need her. I need her. I need her.

I needed to be inside her. I needed to bury myself so deep that when I pulled out, I wouldn't be gone. I needed her body wrapped around me, pulling me back from the ledge.

My breath came in sharp, uneven pants. My vision blurred at the edges.

She was driving me fucking insane.

I shoved a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself. But the moment I turned back toward the bedroom, saw her still sleeping, still untouched, I nearly lost it all over again.

I needed a cold shower. Now.

The water was ice-cold, slicing against my skin like a blade. I stood under the freezing stream, my hands braced against the tile as my head dropped forward. My muscles tensed, my body revolting against the temperature, but I needed it. I needed the shock, the numbness, anything to stop the inferno burning through me.

Each drop felt like it was trying to carve its way into my bones, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was.

I let out a slow, shaky breath, running a hand down my face before finally shutting the water off. The cold had dulled the edge, but it hadn't killed it.

Not even close.

I stepped out, drying off quickly before heading into the closet. My movements were sharp, efficient—suit, tie, watch, everything in place. I fastened the buttons on my cuffs, rolling my shoulders as I grabbed my keys and headed downstairs.

I needed to get to work.

As I entered the kitchen, Lottie and Summer were already bustling around, setting things in place for the morning.

Summer glanced up first, offering a polite smile. "Good morning, sir."

Lottie followed, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in my expression. "You look..." she trailed off, tilting her head.

"Celine's still asleep," I said, ignoring her observation. "And she's naked."

There was a beat of silence before Summer let out a small, amused gasp. "Oh."

Lottie blinked, then scoffed. "Of course she is."

Summer bit back a grin. "Should we be bringing her breakfast in bed or...?"

Lottie shot her a look. "Or maybe we just let her sleep off whatever happened last night."

I didn't dignify that with a response. I simply grabbed my coffee, downed half of it in one go, and turned for the door.

Behind me, I heard Summer whisper to Lottie, "He's really down bad, huh?"

I kept walking.

The engine roared as I tore down the road, pushing the car faster than necessary. The city blurred past me, the rush of speed doing little to drown out the fire still burning under my skin. I gripped the wheel tighter, jaw clenched so hard it ached.

I needed to hit something.

By the time I pulled into the gym, I was already stripping off my suit jacket, rolling up my sleeves as I stalked toward the ring. The place was nearly empty, save for a few guys training, but I spotted a fighter I recognized—big, built like a tank, and cocky as hell. Perfect.

"Get in the ring," I ordered, already wrapping my hands.

The man scoffed but climbed in, rolling his shoulders. "You sure, boss? Don't want to mess up that pretty face before work."

I didn't answer. The second the bell rang, I launched forward.

It wasn't a fight. It was an execution.

Every punch landed harder than the last, my knuckles splitting open again, but I didn't stop. I didn't stop when his nose cracked, when his ribs buckled, when his teeth clattered to the mat.

I only stopped when I felt hands yank me back.

"Enough," Emilio's voice cut through the haze.

I shoved him off, chest heaving, as Alessandro stepped in front of me. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I rolled my shoulders, shaking out my hands. "I needed to hit something."

Alessandro sighed, running a hand down his face. "Yeah, well, you knocked his damn teeth out. We've got a job, Antonio. Get your shit together."

I exhaled sharply, stepping back and grabbing my towel. "I'm fine."

Emilio huffed. "Sure. Tell that to the guy spitting out his molars."

I ignored them, walking off to get cleaned up.

The place was a dimly lit warehouse on the edge of the city, the kind of spot where bloodstains on the floorboards weren't unusual, and every shadow held a threat. We were supposed to be meeting a few associates—handling business, making sure certain shipments were moving without interference. Standard.

But my mind wasn't on business.

It was on her.

The need hadn't dulled, not even after the fight. If anything, it was worse now. My muscles were tight, my skin hot despite the cool air in the building. Every thought I had led back to Celine—her body sprawled across our bed, bare and waiting. The memory alone sent something vicious through me. I gritted my teeth. Focus.

"Antonio." Emilio's voice snapped me back.

I blinked, glancing at him before turning to the men across from us. Five of them. Russian. I recognized the leader—Mikhail Sokolov, a smug bastard who thought he had more power than he actually did.

"I was saying," Mikhail continued, taking a slow drag from his cigarette, "that we're willing to move the shipments, but we expect an increase in payment. It's only fair, considering the risks."

Alessandro scoffed. "Fair?" He leaned back in his chair. "You're already being overpaid for doing a piss-poor job. You don't get to ask for more."

Mikhail smirked. "That's not up to you, is it?"

I was barely listening. My hands itched for my phone, the urge to text Celine gnawing at me, but I knew if I checked in, I wouldn't stop. I'd tell her to get dressed. I'd tell her I was coming home. I'd tell her to spread her fucking legs the second I walked in—

A metallic click.

Everything shifted in an instant.

Guns drawn.

Chairs scraped against concrete as we all stood at once. Mikhail's men moved first, reaching for their weapons, but they weren't fast enough. I fired first, the sound of the shot deafening in the enclosed space. One of his men dropped instantly.

Chaos erupted.

I ducked behind a stack of crates, reloading as bullets whizzed past. Emilio and Alessandro were already moving, returning fire with deadly precision. Sokolov was nowhere to be seen—coward. I gritted my teeth, firing at the nearest man and watching him crumple.

"Antonio—left!"

I spun just as a man lunged at me, knocking the gun from my grip. We hit the ground hard, grappling for control, but I was done playing around. I grabbed the knife from my belt, shoving it straight into his gut. He gasped, choking, before slumping against me.

The room fell silent.

Bodies on the floor.

Mikhail was gone, but his men weren't.

Alessandro kicked one of the corpses, shaking his head. "Well. That went to shit."

Emilio groaned. "We need to clean this up before we have more problems."

I barely heard them. My hands were slick with blood, my breath still uneven, but the only thing on my mind was Celine.

I needed to get home.

The gunfire started again, sharp and relentless, echoing off the walls like a fucking symphony of chaos. I reloaded in one swift motion, ducking behind a crate as bullets splintered the wood beside me. Emilio and Alessandro were already moving, returning fire with precise shots that dropped two more of Mikhail's men.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Not now.

Another shot rang out, closer this time. I pulled the trigger, taking out the bastard stupid enough to step into my line of fire. The phone kept vibrating. I exhaled sharply, shifting behind cover before pulling it out and answering.

Alessandro grunted, gripping his arm where the bullet had grazed him. "You're fucking insane, you know that?" He ducked behind a crate, reloading his gun. "Who the hell answers a phone call in the middle of a shootout?"

Emilio smirked, crouching beside him. "Our dear brother Antonio, that's who." He aimed and fired, dropping another man. "Let me guess—Celine?"

"Who else?" Alessandro scoffed, peeking out to fire again.

I ignored them, still focused on the phone call.

"Are you okay?" I asked, raising my gun and firing at the same time. A man screamed as he hit the ground.

"Yes, I'm fine," Celine said smoothly. "The designer called. They want to pick out the tile."

I nearly laughed. A bullet whizzed past me, barely missing my head. I shifted to the side and fired, nailing the bastard in the chest.

"Do whatever you want," I said. "Whatever looks pretty to you."

Emilio snorted. "Romantic."

Alessandro shook his head, grinning as he shot another guy. "This man is picking out house décor in a fucking war zone."

I didn't acknowledge them, too distracted by the way Celine was still talking like I wasn't knee-deep in bloodshed.

"Alright, and I—"

More shots.

A pause.

Then, irritation laced her voice. "Antonio, are you fucking shooting at someone?"

Alessandro barked out a laugh. "Oh, she sounds pissed."

I smirked, not bothering to deny it. I raised my gun and fired again, watching another body hit the ground.

"Fuck them," I muttered.

"She's gonna kill you one day," Emilio mused.

"She'd have to catch me first." I fired another shot, then sighed when Celine spoke again.

"You better not track blood into the house."

Alessandro chuckled. "I like her."

Emilio smirked. "Me too."

I ignored them, watching the last few men scramble.

"Antonio."

"Hmm?"

"You're cleaning it up yourself."

Alessandro whistled. "Oof. Tough break."

Emilio clapped a hand on my shoulder. "She's got you wrapped around her little finger, huh?"

I smirked. "Whatever you say, wife."

She huffed. "And don't be late for dinner."

The line went dead.

I pocketed the phone and turned to my brothers. "Let's finish this shit up."

The moment the bullet tore through my chest, I barely reacted. The force sent me back a step, my body absorbing the impact like it was nothing more than a punch to the ribs. Blood soaked through my shirt, warm and spreading fast.

Alessandro was the first to react. "Oh, for fuck's sake." He fired twice, dropping the bastard who shot me before turning back with an annoyed glare. "Did you seriously just get shot?"

Emilio groaned, rubbing his temple like I was a headache. "We can't take you anywhere."

I exhaled sharply, feeling the sting as I pressed a hand to my chest. "I'm fine."

"You are bleeding out of your chest," Alessandro deadpanned.

Emilio tilted his head, unimpressed. "Did Celine call in a favor with God to make you think you're immortal?"

I gritted my teeth. "Get me home."

Alessandro and Emilio exchanged a look before shrugging. Alessandro grabbed my arm, steadying me as we made our way to the car.

"You tell her, I'll kill you," I muttered as I slid into the back seat, my head resting against the cool leather.

"Oh, sure," Emilio drawled. "Let's lie to the woman who already has a sixth sense for your bullshit."

"She'll skin us alive," Alessandro added as he sped down the road.

By the time we pulled up to the house, the pain had worsened, but I pushed through it. Alessandro and Emilio flanked me, making sure I didn't collapse on the way in.

The second Celine saw the blood, the glass in her hand shattered against the floor.

"Antonio—" She was on me in seconds, grabbing my arm and pushing me toward the counter.

"I'm fine," I muttered, but she wasn't listening. She lifted my shirt, hissing when she saw the wound. Her hands were steady as she pressed against the bleeding, her jaw tightening.

"Who did this?"

I exhaled through my nose, refusing to answer.

Albert, the ever-faithful snitch, spoke up from behind us. "Some idiot at the meeting. He failed, obviously."

Celine's expression darkened. She pulled her hands away from my chest, reached for her gun, and turned on her heel.

Emiliano whistled. "Here we go."

Alessandro leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. "At least let him get stitched up before you go on your little murder spree, Celine."

"She's not gonna listen," Emiliano said. "She's in her avenging angel era."

Celine ignored them both, her eyes locked on mine as she walked toward the door.

"Celine." My voice was sharp, but she didn't slow down.

I caught her wrist just before she stepped out. She turned, eyes blazing, lips set in a firm line.

"I'll be back for dinner," she said.

Then she leaned in, kissed me—slow, deep, like she wasn't about to go on a killing spree—and pulled away before I could deepen it.

Alessandro made a face. "God, at least wait till the blood is cleaned up."

Emiliano snorted. "That's the hottest she's ever been."

Celine shot them a look before glancing back at me.

I smirked, tasting copper on my tongue. "Wear something pretty."

She winked. "Always."

Then she was gone.

Alessandro exhaled. "We should probably go after her."

Emiliano shook his head. "Nope. I value my life."

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i forgot y'all hadn't seen my girl Celine in action YALL boutta see why she's called taipan for realll also y'all CRO4L's aesthetics are giving me stress what do you y'all think they look like and I can help 😭😭

anyways tysm for reading how was this??

- zio 🍸