CHAPTER 9.
Ghost walked into the clubhouse, taking the elevator to the 5th floor.
When the elevator door opened, he got ushered into a room, with music, drinks, and bitches. The neon light reflected on his black tux and his face. The alluring smell of blunt hit him, teasing his insides. He wasn't an addict, but an avid lover.
He sighted Don Carianno in the middle of the frenzy and he went to join him on the couch.
"Ghost, my boy," Don Carianno let out a guffaw, gesturing to him to sit.
"I see you got the party going without me," Ghost chuckled, letting his eyes roam the place. It wasn't his first time being here. But he could make counts.
This was one of Don Carianno's private properties and you don't get to unwind here unless you got an invitation. Like the text he got from him.
"I saved the best part for you." Don Carianno signaled a waitress. She came over and filled up their glasses with bourbon.
"I'm fucking excited." Ghost said, but his words oozed sarcasm. He leaned back on the couch, sipping his drink.
"Get rid of that sarcasm, 'cause I did save you the best part. No kidding." Don Carianno gave a smack to the ass of one of the girls lurking around him. She giggled, loving every bit of it.
"I don't see it," Ghost pinpointed, making a show of looking around, like in search of something.
"Give me a second." Don Carianno whispered something to one of the girls. There were like five of them. She disappeared through a curtain and when she came back, she was leading a trial of nude, thick ladies.
"What the fuck?!" Ghost broke out into a full-blown laugh, twirling the drink in his glass.
"Told you I saved up the best part for you." Don Carianno assessed the ladies with his gaze and turned to Ghost. "Make a pick."
"You fucking serious?"
"Goddamn serious, son. Make a fucking pick."
Ghost laughed again. He took them in with his eyes, and fuck him, they were gorgeous. But for the first time in ever, he wasn't feeling like grabbing any and fucking them through squirts.
For the first time, he wasn't in the mood. He doesn't even get what it was he was feeling. But there was this weird feeling sizzling inside of him. It's been there ever since he delivered that damned girl to Don Carianno.
It's like she's got the touch of death and it kinda rubbed off on him. 'Cause what the fuck was he feeling?
"Son?" Don Carianno tapped his lap. "Don't keep them waiting."
Ghost chuckled again but it was awkward. It was impossible to reject Don Carianno's gesture. But he couldn't force himself to do it. So what happens now?
One of the ladies dared to come over and lowered herself to his thighs.
"Shit, alright…" he adjusted with another chuckle. This had to be the most awkward make-out session he's ever had.
She leaned in and kissed his lips, and it disgusted the fuck out of him.
Note! He has always been a sucker for kisses so feeling disgusted right now was the oddest thing. What the fuck was wrong with him?
The lady did it again, taking it to a whole new level by licking up both lips with her tongue. It was fucking erotic, as should be. But he wasn't feeling any of it.
"May I?" She asked in a sexy slur, unfastening his belt.
He shut his eyes, fighting back to urge to snap at her. Gritting his teeth, he tried to relax and maybe, enjoy whatever she was doing.
Her long nails slid into his pants, brushing his dick. He bit down his grunt, seizing her hand before she went any deeper.
"That's enough," He grated out. There was no downplaying it. He was disgusted and uncomfortable and he gotta let her know.
"But –" She dared say a word, but his deadly scowl silenced her.
She scooted off immediately, returning through the curtains they'd walked out from. The other ladies still stood but no one dared come any closer.
"Son, what's wrong?" Don Carianno asked, pushing off the girl straddling him.
"Nothing." Ghost seethed, fastening his belt. He was furious and he wasn't even sure why. Or maybe he was sure but too damned irritated and arrogant to admit it.
"Leave us." Don Carianno ordered the girls. Everyone left. It was just the both of them, music and the drinks. "What's wrong?" He asked again, assessing Ghost intently.
Saying it was nothing again would only get Don Carianno interrogating him more. The man never stops until he gets his answers.
"I got no idea." Ghost sighed, with his fingers intertwined. This much was the truth. He had no clue what was wrong with him. If only he did…
"Is it Camilla?" Don Carianno asked with a knowing grin. "Did she put a gun to her head and forced you into taking a fidelity oath?"
Ghost scoffed. "That would be the day." He poured himself another drink. "How much longer do I have to put up with that bitch?"
"For as long as ever. She's your moll. Every member of the Carriano family should have one."
"Yeah, but she was forced down my throat. I never wanted her. The mafia chose her for me."
"And that has never been an issue." Don Carriano snapped. "We chose her. You accepted and have been putting up with her. What changed? What's going on, Ghost?"
Again, Ghost was speechless. This night has just been stressful and it seems to be getting the best of him. Everything has just been bizarre. The werewolf at the bar. The girl who got him aroused on the dance floor. The attraction he felt with her. Everything.
It was like his life had just hit an iceberg and was tumbling off balance. Suddenly, he was painfully reminded of all the irritating stuff in his life. Something about Ciara Macdonald has his insides in shambles. And dear God, he doesn't know what it was.
He gulped a few more shots, fighting to calm his nerves. But it wasn't working. He was too itchy to find out what happened with the girl that nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.
"Where's she?" He let out a ragged breath, lowering his gaze.
"Who?"
"Her. The girl." Ghost took another deep breath, then added. "Ciara Macdonald. What did you do with her?"
Don Carianno flashed him a smirk and puffed harder on his blunt. He let out the smoke into the air with a show.
"I fucked her. And boy, was she the sweetest thing ever."
Ghost felt his fury hit its peak, almost impossible to put it on a leash. His hands balled into angry fists.
"You did – what?"