I slide my hands to the back of his neck, clinging on tightly. “Then I’ll end him.”
Rhett swallows. He grips my hips and pulls me against him. I can feel his heart hammering, making my body warm. He kisses the top of my head. “You can make that decision when the time comes.”
“I’ve already made the decision,” I tell him firmly, leaning back in his embrace so I can look up into his eyes. “I’m going to do this.”
He looks somehow heartbroken and proud at the same time. I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips against his. He moans and slides his hand to the small of my back, pressing me against him. His manhood is a stiff rod against my stomach, rock-hard as if he can’t help himself.
I lean away before I lose control of myself.
“I need a shower,” I murmur. “I can still feel his breath on me. Still feel the way he looked at me. Which makes no damn sense, right?Feelinga look. But I can.”
“I understand,” Rhett says.
I give him another kiss, then go to the bedroom and grab some clothes. I walk into the en-suite, looking at myself in the mirror for a long moment. Am I staring into the eyes of a killer?
In the shower, I try to push those thoughts away. There’s nothing we can do tonight. I’ve tricked Lucian. He’s going to walk right into our trap. Then I’ll make things right.
With a bullet to the head.
As the water runs down my body, I think about the way people stared at us as we walked across the restaurant. The women stared like they were so jealous of me.
Rhett only had eyes for me. I don’t think he even noticed women were checking him out.
Every time he looked at me tonight, it was like I was the answer to every problem he’s ever had.
But what about when this is over?
CHAPTER 28
RHETT
When I hear the buzzing coming from the kitchen cabinet, my blood goes cold. I keep my burner phone in there, the cell that people on the streets use to inform me that there’s garbage the cops won’t deal with. The only people who have that number are involved in the criminal world or living on the edges of it.
I answer the unknown number, then wait for the person to speak. Speaking first would be a mistake.
“Is this the bogeyman?” A gravelly voice asks, tinged with an Italian accent.
“It might be,” I grunt.
“I understand why you’re cagey,” the man goes on. “It pays to be in your line of work. Let me start by introducing myself, Rhett.”
When he uses my name, I clench my free hand into a fist. They don’t use my given name on the streets. I’m known as someone who can handle dark business and commit dark deeds, but not by name.
“Maybe you should do that,” I growl.
“My name is Giancarlo Conti,” the man says.
I clamp my lips shut so that I don’t let out a gasp. “Right…”
“Do you remember the murder of the twins by the train tracks?” he goes on. “They were half-brothers, hitmen who went too far. They were found with each other’s tongues in the other person’s mouth. That information was never released to the public.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I snarl.
“So you know I’m telling the truth,” he says. “I am who I say I am.”
“What do you want, Conti?” I growl. “If this is about your son?—”
“I know you would kill me if you had the chance,” he cuts in. “Perhaps consider it your civic duty. I know that what I do and who I am is absolutely sickening to you.”
