Angelo

ANGELO Russo Famiglia Book 1 GLENDA HORSFALL Copyright © 2023 by Glenda Horsfall All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidences. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental. This book is sold subject to the condition that it will not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Contents 1. Angelo 2. Cinzia 3. Angelo 4. Cinzia 5. Angelo 6. Cinzia 7. Angelo 8. Cinzia 9. Angelo 10. Cinzia 11. Angelo 12. Cinzia 13. Angelo 14. Cinzia 15. Angelo 16. Cinzia 17. Angelo 18. Cinzia 19. Angelo 20. Ciro Dedication Also By Chapter one AngeloI’m more than a little pissed off tonight as I stand at my office window looking down over the dance floor. Don Ottavio Russo head of the Famiglia, and my father to boot, has deemed it is time for me to marry. I throw back my glass of scotch in one, not savouring the drink as I would normally, and resist the urge to throw the crystal glass across the room. I don’t want to get married, but my father wants to retire. He’s not going to hand over the reins until he sees me settled. I know he’s wanted to step back for a while, he wants to visit the old country and enjoy what’s left of his life. If I’m honest, he’s getting too old for this game, but no-one would ever dare tell him that. I’m lucky that he’s let me continue my playboy lifestyle until now, but now it’s time to pay the piper.I especially don’t want to marry the kind of virgin sacrifice he expects me to take as my wife. But, as heir apparent, I’m already taking on more than my fair share of responsibility for this family, and I need to step up to the plate. I need to produce my own heir or heirs to succeed me down the line. At thirty three I’ve managed to dodge the marriage bullet for longer than most of my friends, and I resent having to give up my freedom. Truthfully, men in my field of work tend not to live to old age and I need to secure an heir if the family is to succeed.I adore women. I love great sex and plenty of it; but I want the woman under me or at my feet to know what the hell she is doing. I like my sex hard and fast; I’m always in control. I don’t think a virgin is going to be able to cope with me and my appetites, and the thought of having to train an unwelcome bride has the acid in my stomach rolling. Fuck knows how I’m going to manage to stay loyal to one woman when I’ve been used to a smorgasbord. Once married I know there will be no more playing around. I need to impregnate my bride as soon as possible; once we’ve got a couple of kids for her to worry about, I’ll have time to take care of my own needs. No one wants to go into a marriage looking to be unfaithful, but for all the killing & maiming we do, we are still a strict Catholic family. Bloody joke, right. There will be no divorce further down the line; the only hope of reprieve is that it’s acceptable for a man of my standing to take a mistress a few years down the line, once I’ve got the heirs I need and as long as I’m discreet. That won’t be a problem, it’s not like I’ll be setting up some whore in her own little apartment for me to visit. There’s always plenty of pussy on tap at the club, one way or another.I’ve never been short of female company. I know I’m good looking, but most of the women who fall at my feet do so because my wealth turns them on. I don’t fool myself that they are falling in love. I’m a realist, and I know my family name, my power and my wealth are the biggest pull. Women can be so stupid sometime. I never see the same woman more than a couple of times; I wouldn’t want them getting ideas that we were forming a relationship. Thank fuck our club ensures I never go short of willing candidates to scratch my itch, and if there’s no-one around that I fancy I can always call on one of our whores to service my needs. That’s all sex is after all, a release valve for all the tension my day job brings.It’s Friday night and the dance floor is packed. Capri, our club, is the place to visit at the moment and the queues to gain entry get longer every week. The ticket price is high and people expect the best, which is just what we give them. All our furnishings and fittings are high end; no expense has been spared to draw in the moneyed crowds. The building covers four storeys, and we cater for everything in house. We have a high stakes gaming room at the back of the club, invitation only I’m afraid. Down below in the bowels of the building we run our own sex club, where anything goes as long as you can afford the membership fees. And, on the top floor above our offices, we house our own whores. The girls are there of their own accord and all