Fear blooms across the man’s face, beautiful as a bloodstain. “Please,” he whimpers. “Please, I said I was sorry—”
“You did,” I reply pleasantly, nodding at Rafe, who’s by my side. He understands immediately, forcing the man’s hand flat on the stage, fingers splayed wide.
The cutter feels cool against my palm, familiar. I’ve used it enough times that the weight of it is comforting—a trusted tool, like my lighter, like my knife. I position it over the man’s pinky and ring finger, just above the second knuckle.
“This is a message,” I announce to the room, “about respecting boundaries. About understanding what belongs to me—and what happens when you forget.”
The man tries to jerk his hand back, but Rafe’s grip is unbreakable. I squeeze the handles of the cutter, and the blades snap shut with a wet crunch that sends electricity racing up my spine.
His severed fingers hit the stage with twin thumps, blood pulsing from the stumps in rhythm with the man’s frantic heartbeat. His scream is music—high and broken, cracking on the edges like heat-stressed glass.
“Oh, God.”
I turn toward the whimper, seeing Piper hiding her face in Enzo’s chest. Christ, my… what is she? Cousin-wife-in-law? Whatever she is, she needs to toughen up.
I slide my lighter from my pocket, flick it open with practiced ease, and cauterize the wounds. The smell of burning flesh fills my nostrils—sweet and metallic, like caramel made from blood. I close my eye for a brief moment, savoring it.
Fire cleansing flesh, just like it did all those years ago when I burned the Greco family who killed my parents. Just like it will when I finally discover who’s been trying to end me.
When I’m satisfied the bleeding has stopped, I step back, tucking both cutter and lighter away. “Get him out of here,” I tell Rafe, who nods and drags the sobbing man off stage.
Catching Enzo’s gaze, I nod toward the exit, silently telling him to get his wife out of here. But when she balks, I pay closer attention.
“Wait,” she rushes out. “I can’t leave without—”
“I’m fine,” Raven chirps from behind me. “Just go, Pipes. I’m proud of you, and I promise to buy you something pretty as a thank you.”
I turn just in time to see Raven blow a kiss at Piper. And… it all falls into place. Raven avoiding me, Piper coming to her best friend’s aid, and Enzo’s fucking comment about being free as a bird.
Fuck. Me.
Despite all that, all I can do is look at Raven. Most women would be retching by now, or at least looking away. But my Little Thief is full of surprises. She stands perfectly still, eyes fixed on the severed fingers still lying on the stage.
Her pupils are blown wide, almost swallowing the brown of her irises. Her chest rises and falls rapidly while a flush spreads across her cheekbones and down her throat.
There’s no disgust in her expression. No fear. Instead, I see fascination. Arousal. A hunger that mirrors my own.
“You good?” I ask, stepping closer, the coppery scent of blood mixing with her perfume in a combination that makes my mouth water.
She blinks, coming back to herself. “Better than him,” she quips, a tremor in her voice.
I laugh, genuine amusement bubbling up. I cup her face with my hand, thumb brushing across her lower lip. It’s slightly parted, warm and soft beneath my touch.
“You got my attention, Little Thief,” I murmur. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I… w-what?” She takes a step back as though my words have broken whatever trance she was in.
“Dancing on stage,” I clarify. “I can only assume you wanted my attention. And now you have it.”
When she doesn’t immediately reply, I turn and lock eyes with the bouncers.
“Everyone out. Now. We’re closed for the night,” I roar.
Chapter 31
Matteo
When the door slams behind Rafe, I walk over and lock it from the inside before returning to the floor in front of the stage. It’s just us now—me and my furious Little Thief, who’s still standing on the stage.
