“Unfortunately, I’m unable to divulge any information at this time. If you leave a name and number, I’ll get back to you.”
He hangs up, and I wait. I pace, my phone clutched to my chest. I’d put a guy on Arianna, watching her, to protect her and keep her safe. He was tailing her. Said he followed her to a hotel in the middle of the night. Whenshe came out, he lost her. I spoke to him after he lost her, and I haven’t heard from him since. If they got to him, did they get to her, too? My mind reels as I contemplate what this could actually mean. If someone has her. What will they do to her? I pace and contemplate where to go from here.
My phone dings as the picture comes through and as the image loads onto the screen. I clench my fist and punch the desk.Motherfucker.She killed him. She fucking killed him. I know it was her; he was carved up just like she left Alfredo. Those creepy slashes forming that twisted grin, along with the crosses gouged into his eyes. It’s clearly her calling card, but I’m unsure of the reasoning behind it.
It’s not normal, not that killing’s normal, but for me, it’s done out of necessity. There’s no art or pleasure in it; in this moment, I can see a similarity between her and Bellino. I shudder at that thought. Could I really have underestimated her so drastically that I didn’t see the psychotic tendencies? I toss my phone onto the desk and try to breathe. I try to keep my cool. I don’t know whether to be impressed or pissed.
While I try to gather myself, I snatch my phone off the table and storm out of the office. Firstly, I need to find out who’s covering this up for her. This was a far too brazen kill. The way he was carved up can’t be mistaken as an overdose; someone high up must have her back, and loyalty like that doesn’t come quickly or easily. Also, if she’s capable of this out there on her own, am I fooling myself into thinking she needs my help?
Arianna
Chapter Eight
I park the bike up, hiding it in the shadows. Stashing it and my helmet in the trees, I creep along the tree line. There’s a tree down in the back corner, and I use this to scale the wall, clawing my way up the downed trunk. I’m not worried about how I’ll get back out; I’ll just walk straight out of the front door.
I stick to the hedges and foliage as I make my way towards the house, steering clear of all the security lights. They’ve got slack with their patrols. Lackadaisical with their security measures. Father was the same. They think they’re unstoppable, unrivalled, impenetrable. They get complacent. They get lazy, and soon they will all come crashing down. I know the layout. I know which room he’s in, and I head to the back of the house.
There’s a balcony that overhangs the patio, and I creep along the edge of the property, my back against the wall. Jumping up with a boost from one of the garden chairs, I grab for the balcony, pulling myself up and heaving my body over the railing.
I step to the door. It’s cracked open, and I peer inside. I can see he’s sleeping, the moonlight specklesover his body, the white sheets tossed around and the corner sliver resting over his middle, his hand under the edge of the sheet. His other arm bent up, resting under his head. His bulging muscles rest against the pillow. His tattoos cover almost every inch of visible skin and head under the sheet.
I want to see. I want to follow the lines of each single stroke of each delicious line. Possibly with my tongue.
I shake myself out of it. That’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I’m pissed he sent someone after me. They followed me. They were reporting back to him, but to what end and whose side is he on?
I slide the door silently back, just enough for me to slip inside. I reach down and grip the handle of the knife stuffed in my boot. My leathers creak slightly as I move. I stand at the side of the bed, knife clutched in my hand, some of the anger dissipating as I stare at him, so serene, so beautiful. His face relaxed, those boring eyes that see into my soul closed, the tense jaw slack, his lips full and pink.
I bite my lip as I try to focus on the reason I’m here. I bring back the anger to the surface. I throw my leg over his body as I grip his neck. The knife presses against his throat as his eyes open, and the slight kink of his lips infuriates me.
“You think this is funny? You think I can’t look after myself? That I can’t murder you in your fucking bed?”
“I know you can.” His voice gravelly and gruff. It rumbles through me into my core. I take a breath. “I just don’t want you to have to. I’m on your side, Ari.”
“I don’t need you. I don’t need anything from you.” I spit, “I don’t trust you.”
His hands slide up my thighs, slowly caressing over the supple leather. His hands slide up over my waist, and his thumbs push under my jacket. They rub slowly over my skin. The heat from them sears my flesh.
“You will.”
I scoff. “Don’t hold your breath. Stay out of my way, Vittorio, or the wedding will be off.”
He smirks, “You don’t have to do this alone, Ari.”
“Yes. I do!” I snarl at him. His eyes bore into mine, and I sigh. “Just stay out of this, Vittorio.”
He doesn’t answer. I take a breath, click the knife shut and slip it back into my boot. I go to climb off, but his grip tightens around my waist before I’m flipped onto my back. His body lies on top of mine. He grinds against me before he kneels up. His thick cock juts out, and I refrain from staring at it. I consciously maintain eye contact, and I refuse to bite or lick my lips.
He undoes the fastening of my leather trousers and tugs them down. I lift my hips to help him, but my breathing stays impassive. When my trousers are around my knees, he leans back, tugging my boots off, tossing them onto the floor at the side of the bed my knife clatters as it spills out of them before removing my bottoms completely. He grabs my hand, tugs me until I’m sitting, and slides my jacket down over my shoulders, dropping it from my arms and tossing it in the pile with the rest of my clothes, leaving me in my socks, underwear and a black vest. I don’t fight, I don’t speak, I just wait.
“What’s that look for?” He frowns as he takes in the blank look on my face.
“Nothing.”
“Ari?”
“You’re just like the rest of them, men. The men in my life, you all just take. Go on then. Take what you want.”
His brow tightens, his jaw ticks, and he glares at me. His lips part with a snarl. “I’m nothing like the rest of the men in your fucking life, Arianna.”
