I smile at him before I lift the gun to his chin. His eyes widen, and I whisper.
“I’m not running from the Syndicate. I’m fucking destroying it. One family at a time.” I laugh.
The heat in his eyes dissipates. He tries to pull back; he tries to snatch for the gun. But he tries too late. I pull the trigger. He slumps under me as the blood splashes across my face and my chest. His body slouches in the chair. The door flies open, and Matteo and Luca enter, guns held high, scanning the room for the threat. It’s me, though. I’m the dangerous one here. I smile at them.
“Top drawer. Pass me my knife.” I nod at Matteo, and he walks around the desk, opening the drawer and sliding the knife across the desk. I pull it from its sheath and I press it into his eyebrow, dragging it down over his eye. The resistance from the surface of the eye flexes away from me as I push harder before it gives way with a satisfying popping sensation, before the blade pushes in deeper. Islice it along each eye and down to his cheek twice, making the crosses before gouging the blade into the corners of his mouth and jaggedly sawing up towards his cheeks, leaving him with a gruesome grin.
I slide off his lap and step back. I remove my blouse as I clean my knife on it, wiping the blade through the fabric before pulling it out, checking it over and wiping it again. I toss the blouse and the knife back down on the desk before turning and staring at Luca and Matteo.
Luca looks at me with a kind of admiration, while Matteo looks at me with a mix of disgust and lust. I smirk at him as I step away. I call out over my shoulder as I reach the door.
“Call the cleaning crew. I’d hate for that blood to seep into the rug.” Luca moves towards the phone as I step away from the office. I really need to stop killing people in my nice clothes.
Vittorio
Chapter Sixteen
I storm out of the house consumed with anger and need. She infuriates me. It’s like the girl I saw in the hallway, the one who saw me, no longer exists. The her I see changes from situation to situation—a mask for every eventuality. I want her, the real her, all the bullshit stripped away, her heart laid bare for me and me alone. I feel deceived, hurt, like she was playing me all along, but it doesn’t stop the ache, the need I have for her. She’s the only person who ever chose me, and now I’m worried it’s all a lie. Fake—something that was only ever part of her plan to decimate the Syndicate. Was I only ever going to be a pawn in her game?
I screech around corners, sliding around bends as I push the car harder than ever before, exceeding the speed limits as I stomp harder against the throttle. I take out my frustration on the road as I power through the gears. I’ll roll the dice, let the chips fall where they may, and resign myself to the carnage that will be, if this is all for shits and giggles. I accelerate harder. I turn tighter. I brake later, pushing the car until it groans and bucks under me. Likeshe should have done, but I won’t take her until she gives me the real her. Until she wants it, until she wants me.
The gravel flicks up, ricocheting around the wheel arch, as I screech to a halt, pulling up outside the bar. Frustrated and antsy. Images of her naked body flash before my eyes, like a slideshow, the bruising dark and menacing, but the flush of her skin, the look in her eye. I want that, but I want that for real. Could she have faked that too?
I blow out a breath, stepping out of the car and pushing inside. The door closes behind me, and a few eyes glance up, following me as I walk towards the bar.
I take a seat, nodding to the barman. “Bourbon.” He grabs my drink and slides it across the bar to me. I snatch it up, toss it back and groan at the burn as it slides down my throat.
Closing my eyes, I lose myself in the moment of despair, the tingle the alcohol leaves in its wake. I nod at the glass again, repeating the same thing three more times. I nod over to the booths in the corner and take my drink over there. It’s darker, more secluded, and I can sit and lick my wounds in the solitude.
I’m feeling some type of way at her throwing herself at me without actually being present in the moment, so detached and unfeeling. I feel nothing but hurt and confusion. I thought she wanted me. My mind’s starting to sound like a broken record. I don’t want her body. Well, I do. I just don’t want it with her as a vacant passenger. I want her to think. I want her to feel. I want her to come undone for me while I fill her with copious amounts of cum. I want her…
“Well, hello there.” I glance up. The woman glaring back at me. Pale white skin, red hair. Brown eyes. Reasonably attractive, but nothing compared to Arianna. But she wants it. She wants me. I can see it in the glint of her eye, the flush of her cheeks, the slight elevation in her breathing. Maybe just for sex, but she’s here, she’s present, and I smile at her.
“Hey, beautiful.” I wink at her, and she flushes a little more, then she nods to the seat beside me.
“Fancy some company?” She smiles, and I nod.Where’s the harm?We’re not together. I’m not married yet.
She slides in beside me, placing her glass on the table, and immediately places her hand on my leg, licking her lips as she shuffles towards me, sliding her hand higher towards my dick. I grab her wrist just before she reaches it. “Buy a guy a drink first.”
She smiles and waves at the barman, pointing at the glasses on the table. He nods back, and it’s not long before a waitress brings over the order. While we wait, we don’t talk, my hand still wrapped around her wrist, her gaze trained on mine, almost like we’ve been paused. A moment in time.
Once the drinks are on the table, I release her hand and grab for the drink. As soon as the glass touches my lips, her hand slides over my dick. My eyes flick down to her as I chug the rest of the liquid. She inches closer as she slides her hand back and forth over my hardening erection, and I buck up against her hand.
“My friends dared me to get you to fuck me in the ladies.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she leans closer, close enough to kiss me as she says. “It’s my bachelorette party.”
And there it is. She doesn’t want me either, just a quick fuck. I’m pissed, not allowing her to see my inner turmoil. I smile down at her. “Sure, beautiful. I’ve got time for you.”
I nod over to where the toilets are. I’m gonna make sure her fiancé knows what type of woman he’s marrying. I’m gonna make sure there are so many marks on her fucking skin that he will be unable to ignore them. And she won’t be able to pass them off as anything other than dirty fucking sex.
I stand up and nudge her out of the booth. Her eyes widen as she takes in my full height. Six foot three. I grin down at her. “I’m very much in proportion,” I wink. “Second thoughts?”
She pales but shakes her head. I smirk.
I snatch her hand, turning her and leading through the bar towards the bathroom. Her friends whooping and hollering, I wink at them as I tug her behind me, stumbling past them. Kicking the door open, I grin down at her. I push her against the sink. I wrap my hands around her, gripping her ass as I pull her into me.
I kiss her neck, sucking and licking as I mark a trail of purplish bruises up towards her ear. Perching her on the end of the worktop. I stand between her legs. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Are you a natural redhead?” She blushes. “Don’t tell me. I’ll find out for myself.” I grab my wallet from my jeans, tug the condom out and tear into the wrapper, spitting the corner of the foil onto the floor.
She’s fumbling with my button and zip as I get the condom from the wrapper. She tugs my dick from the front of my jeans, lets go as if she’s been bitten by a snake, andgasps a little. I smirk as I reach down and wrap my hand around my cock, thick, bulging and already leaking.
