“She’s fine. Thanks for asking, bro.” I spit the last word like broken glass.
He leaned back, eyes glinting with something cruel. “She was always hot. Even back then. But that blonde you had in your car earlier? Dios mío. She’s a fucking knockout. You wouldn’t mind putting in a good word for me, huh? It’s been a while since I felt a woman’s walls clench around my?—”
I slammed my hand down on the table.Crack.
Silverware jumped. The room spun around me in a haze of red.
“Don’t fucking finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you. And keep my sister’s name out of your mouth.” My voice came out low, dangerous, a loaded gun with the safety off.
He chuckled, deep and deliberate—like he wanted me to lose control. “Always the protector. Momma raised you soft.”
“But why so testy about the blonde?” he pressed, leaning in. “You fucking her?”
The words hit like a gut punch. My fists curled tighter, knuckles aching.
“I’m going to count to three,” I said, voice trembling with restrained fury. “And if you
don’t tell me what you want, I’ll call the cops and make damn sure you never step foot in here again.”
His eyes shifted. Something flickered there—something feral.
Then I saw it.
The glint of a gun tucked at his back.
“You threatening me with the cops again?” he asked, his voice edged with mockery.
“No,” I said, deadly calm. “I’m telling you what’s going to happen. Just like last time. That’s not a threat—it’s a promise.”
His grin spread like a bloodstain. “I wish I could believe you. But I’m not gonna be the only one paying this time.”
His eyes darkened until they looked black. Not human.
“Then name your price,” I said, jaw locked.
“Hmm… Let’s say a thousand dollars for every year I sat in that hellhole.”
Fifteen grand. I could figure that out. I just needed time.
“Done.”
He raised a brow, then leaned in, his voice like poison in my ear. “You didn’t let me finish. I won’t be finding work anytime soon—felons don’t exactly get warm welcomes. So let’s double it.”
My blood roared in my ears. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I hissed.
“From that fresh-shaved face and fancy-ass cologne, I’d say you’ll figure it out. Because if you don’t? I’ve got men. And they’ll paint these walls red. Remember what I taught you, Niccolo?”
I stared at him, fists trembling.
His grin widened, eyes glittering. “People with nothing to lose are the most dangerous.”
He stood, clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder like we were old friends.
“My, my. The military did you good. No longer the scrawny kid I met at that house party.”
He threw on his jacket and downed the last of his wine. Sniffed the air.
“Damn, it feels good to be home,” he said, and walked off like he didn’t just rip the floor out from under me.
