“Make a name for himself,” he repeated. “By taking a shot at the Fausti family, landing a blow to Luca Fausti’s throne.”
“Possibly,” I said. “Given who he’s married to, and that we know she’s been in contact with her mother…” I shrugged. “Makes sense. He probably wants to keep the wife happy while also increasing his business potential.”
“Get in good with the Nemours.”
The Nemours were a powerful family in France. They were considered royals, but as with the Faustis, not everything that went on beyond the golden gates was on the up and up. The further behind the gold one got, the darker the property became. It had to be to hide the secrets they kept.
Olivier Nemours was a prime example of the kind of scum they supported. He made them a lot of money by scouting out new dancers all over the world. He’d feed them lies, even get them addicted to drugs. Then sell them for the highest price on the market.
This was a family who donated a lot of money to the arts.
Nemours had gone after Scarlett Fausti hard. She was one of the best and was worth a lot of money as one of his sideshows. And if Livia was influenced by Cerise, who was related to that piece of shit, she would take the family way. But it wasn’t about the money to them.
They wanted to hurt the Fausti family like they’d been hurt.
With an arms dealer behind her?
The thought made acid burn the back of my throat as I watched Mia finish her performance. Then I stood up taller, watching as it looked like the blood drained from her face as the curtain fell.
When she looked at me, our eyes seemed to crash. Before I could even move, she screamed, “Down!” Then she ran at me so fast, hit me so hard, we both went down. Her brother did, too, after she’d stuck her hand to his chest, pushing him before she collided with me.
A loud whizzing sound, like a sword slicing through the air too close, passed right where my body had been. A huge prop had come loose of its rigging and came hurtling through the air at manic speed, the snapped cable hanging loose.
It would have hit me first. The impact would have probably killed me.
Mia rested on my chest. Her hands fisted in my shirt like claws. Her heart beat so hard, I felt it pounding against mine.
I looked down as she looked up.
“Saverio,” she whispered, and her hands seemed to curl even tighter. She was almost ripping the shirt from my body.
Words had been knocked right from my mouth. She had felt I was in trouble. Right before the fucking thing would have killed me, she’d saved me. Without a word, I went to stand, bringing her up with me. She wouldn’t let go.
She refused to let go, even after we left the theater.
As we stumbled into her place on the estate, we seemed to crash into each other as hard as the prop would have crashed into me. The night before, it had been intense, but this time—she was almost panicked. Her mouth refused to leave mine, her hands all over, but with the same desperation I’d felt at the theater.
There was no overstating it—if I didn’t bury myself in her, I might die from the separation.
The urgency running through her ran through me.
We couldn’t get enough fast enough.
Clothes were being flung in all directions as we made our way toward the bedroom. I bent her over the bed, taking a fistful of hair. I could smell the desire on her. It drifted in the air like the sweetest fucking perfume.
Instead of using words, she came back, letting me know what she wanted. I hissed out a breath when I entered her, my head tilting back. She was slick and so fucking warm.
“Mia,” I almost growled out. “You feel so fucking good.” The same noise rattled my chest as it echoed in my throat, but deeper, when she came back at me again. I was so deep inside of her, and it was never enough.
We were barely breathing, our bodies slapping, the sounds animalistic. The way she looked at me after she realized how close of a call it was…it was the most emotion I’d ever seen in her eyes.
The fear was making her desperation rise to the surface, along with everything that she usually tried to hide from me. It made me higher than the scent of our sex in the air.
It was her truth. And it was the sweetest fucking surrender.
Her body was close, but I pulled out. She cried out, frustrated.
“Not yet, baby,” I said, flipping her over.
