Like a popped ballon, she deflates, tears glittering on her lashes.
My jaw clenches before I glance away. Underneath the massive letdown my cock’s experiencing, I almost regret making her cry. She’s probably a nice girl, despite being a New Yorker.
“I’m not going to gag you again. But if you scream for help, innocent people will get hurt. I promise you that.”
As I retreat, I feel her glare burn my back. I pause at the door, tempted to walk straight through and close it behind me, but I can’t.
Not yet.
She tried to manipulate me by acting like she wanted me. And that pisses me off.
Murder isn’t personal. But using what you know about someone to mix them up inside, trying to influence their emotions to bend them to your will? That’s some truly insidious shit.
If Trinity’s ballsy enough to attempt to outsmart me, I wish her luck. Fair and square, though. No games. No suggestiveness or seduction. Just a battle of wits.
My knuckles blanch on the doorframe before I swing back to face her. “Can’t say I’m not disappointed.”
She glowers at me with sharp eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Thought you were different but turns out you’re just like all the other mafia princesses. You think because you’re beautiful and born into power, the world owes you and you can treat anyone in your way however the fuck you want.”
Bitterness sours my stomach as the condemnation flows out.
I bust my ass every day. I risk my life. I work exhaustively for so little. Doesn’t matter if I do a perfect job every time or that I’m better than Connor at every damn thing. None of that makes me worthy in Declan’s eyes.
For mafia men, that’s the deal.
You do as you’re told, and if you’re lucky, you might gleam some pleasure and enjoyment out of life on your own time.
But not the women, many of whom live like spoiled, pampered pets. A voice in my head warns me that I’m just tired and frustrated and not thinking clearly, but I keep on ranting.
“You get everything you want. No questions asked. Even my sister’s the same a lot of the time. She gets what she wants.” Even as I spew the words, I realize they’re not fair. Declan never treated Maeve as Connor’s equal, and he only used his stake in the hotel as leverage over her and as a place to conduct his shady business deals. Still, I can’t seem to stop the toxic sludgeof resentment and pain from building in my chest. “Then Kellin Brennan just waltzes in and takes over the whole damn?—”
“You want to trade places?” Trinity cuts me off with sharp desperation. “Be my guest. At least you’re not tied up in a hotel room with some murdering asshole who’s looking down on you. At least you’re not throwing yourself at a criminal who would gladly rape you, just so you cansurvive. At least you have a future. Somewhere you belong. What do I have?”
Though tears drip down her cheeks, her voice remains steady as she stabs me with brutal honesty.
“A half-brother I barely know anything about. A dead father who shipped me off to boarding school and then college on the other end of the country. He even went ahead and got murdered, just to makeextra surewe’d never really get to know each other. How’s that for commitment?” A strangled laugh morphs into a sob. “I’ve never been a mafia princess, Brody. I’m either a mafia prisoner or a mafia prisoner. Or have you forgotten why I’m here?”
Chapter 9
Brody
In the hallway outside the suite, while still reeling from her knife-edged words, I start to realize how much Trinity’s statement affected me.
If this were anyone else, I’d shake the manipulation right off, but this woman throws me off-balance. I want to say she’s lying about her family to protect herself. Trinity probably believes that if she convinces me she’s distant with her relatives in NYC, she’ll no longer be useful to me.
The hurt that flashed through her eyes was too raw and real, though. No one fakes pain that well.
Forget what she said.
Stop imagining her loneliness.
She’s not you, Brody.
I spy my reflection in a mirror hanging across the hall and give him a grim, humorless smile. I dodged bullets and knife attacks today, but one woman’s attempted seduction and woeful tale has me sweating and sympathizing with her?
I scrub my palm over my face. I can’t fucking believe this.
