Calla hangs up and I grin, knowing those two are perfect for each other.
I clasp my black watch around my wrist when there’s a soft knock on the door. I am about to say enter, but Dahlia lets herself in as if eager to sneak in and find me in some compromising position.
Only she can simultaneously madden and excite me.
Her beauty never ceases to take my breath away, but she could wear rags and would still be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
Dressed in white jeans and a loose blue and white striped shirt, her hair falls down her back in loose curls.
“I’m bored,” she pouts and ambles toward me, her hips swaying in the rhythm of the lust rolling up and down my groin. “Not that you’re entertaining.”
I arch a brow at her, pointing at my chest. “Excuse me?”
She giggles and damn, I’d make a fool out of myself to hear those divine sounds.
“You’re a big grump. You know it,” she says unapologetically.
I pin her with a serious stare. “Maybe it has something to do with my line of business,” I remind her as if that will make her see me more as the Bratva king and less as the man she desires.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Oh yeah, all that blood and gore. How could I forget? Don’t tell anyone I know. The men in my life think I live in a fairy tale where nothing bad could happen to me.”
I chuckle. Damn, she’s adorable.
“But we know better, don’t we?” Her tone ends on a sensual note, casting a titillating spell over me.
The discussion slips into dangerous territory with ease, as if the Universe plots to make me fail my oath of staying away. It’s like she wields tendrils of seduction, enveloping me fully until I can’t think straight.
“What do we know?” I say throatily—hoarse with lust.
She looks me dead in the eye. “That I faced darkness and survived. That I’m tarnished.”
Clenching my hands at my sides, I groan. “You’re not fucking tarnished.”
She drops onto the bed and leans back on her palms, never losing eye contact. “It’s funny, don’t you think?”
I know I won’t like the answer, but like the idiot I am, I nibble on the bait, and she ropes me in.
“What?”
“Everyone thinks I’m damaged goods. Their minds spinning wild stories, but we’re the only two people alive who know what truly happened. At times, I would like to tell the truth.”
I cock my head, a chill rippling down my back, not understanding what she’s playing at now.
She avoids my gaze. “But you would do anything for the truth to remain buried.”
Unsteady on my feet, I swallow hard. “Are you blackmailing me?”
The thought that the woman I would die for would do that guts me. The betrayal would be impossible to overcome.
She whips her head toward me, rolling her eyes at me. “In my side of the story, you’re a hero. In yours, you’re the villain. Regardless, neither of us will change their minds.” She shoots up and stabs a finger into my chest. “And don’t you ever look at me like I might betray you. I’d rather die than do that.”
She storms out, and I shake my head at her. These bouts of ferocity have increased, which doesn’t help with my fucked up mental state. The innocent princess has developed some claws, tearing at my resistance a bit more each passing day.
Following her trace because I would follow this woman anywhere, I find her in the dining room with her mother.
“I’m going shopping. Would you like to join me?” Dahlia asks her mother.
Marcella pats her hand on the table, offering a soft smile. “Maybe another time.”
