“Angelo!”
“Are you willing to take your secrets to the grave,cara?”
He wheels me around, pressing me against the back of a sun lounge. With a solid shove, I fall forward onto my elbows and catch myself. Angelo yanks my dress up around my waist, the cool air making me shiver.
He presses the gun to the back of my head and slides his palm over the curve of my ass, then down between my thighs.
A faint whimper escapes me as he pulls my thong aside and drags his fingers through my arousal. There’s no logical explanation for how soaked I am. But the low groan that pierces the silence behind me suggests Angelo approves.
Still, he doesn’t show me any mercy as he pulls the trigger again. That’s four. How many times do I have left before he really fires? One? Two?
“Angelo, please,” I cry out.
I hear the sound of his zipper, followed by the rustle of his clothing. When he rubs the head of his cock against me, I arch back into him, desperate for a single shred of his warmth.
“Tell me I can trust you,” he rasps.
“You can.” Another lie.
Fat tears fall down my cheeks as he pulls the trigger again. Deep down, I know this is my last chance. But I can’t bring myself to tell him.
“Angelo—”
He grabs me by the hip and pushes deep inside me without an ounce of softness.
“Oh, God!” I shriek.
“Not God.” He pulls back and slams into me again. “Il Diavolo.Remember?”
I don’t get a chance to answer. He fucks me hard and fast, the weight of our bodies pushing the sun lounge forward with every thrust. It’s all I can do to breathe as he shows me that, up until now, I’ve only seen his tender side.
This is the merciless devil they whisper about.
“Tell me,” he demands.
Sounds eject from my mouth, but I can’t form words. I can’t even think.
The gun digs into the back of my skull, and I brace myself for the inevitable. All the agony, the fear, the sheer unfairness of it all—it boils over and explodes as I come around his cock with a sob. Tremors roll down my spine, pulsing through my body as I clench around him. When he buries himself as deep as I can take him, I live in that moment from one breath to the next. He empties his cock inside me without so much as a groan, and I feel how hollow it is for him.
It was just a release, and nothing more.
He taps the gun against my skull. “Tell me I can fucking trust you.”
“You can,” I whisper, wishing more than anything it were true.
He pulls me upright in his arms, stroking the side of my face with his gun before he presses it against my temple.
“You can trust me, too, Abella,” he breathes the words against my hair.
I close my eyes, and the world fades away as I wait for the final pull. The pressure against my skull increases as he eases the trigger back, and I consider my last words. But all I can think is…we were supposed to have thirty days.
Boom.
My body explodes forward, and water rushes into my mouth and nose. Limbs flailing, I try and fail to find purchase. My dress billows around me as I sink to the bottom of the pool. A second passes, followed by another, and I accept my fate—ready to greet death with the only dignity I have left.
My heart rate slows as time suspends itself, and I wait to bleed out. Only, I don’t. When I open my eyes, all I see is blue.
I bob back to the surface, coughing and sputtering as I wipe my face and peel back my wet hair. My senses come back slowly as I feel around my head and find it completely intact.
