“Don’t call me Vittoria. I don’t like it.”
“Okay, Tiffani.”
She snarls.
“Giselle.”
“Stop it.”
“Liz.”
“Enough!”
I prowl toward her. She doesn’t slide along the dresser to get away from me. Instead, she presses back against it. I lift her to sit on it and push my way between her thighs. I rest my hand on the side of her neck, my thumb resting in the hollow at its base. We gaze into each other’s eyes, and I sweep my thumb up and down. I seem to spend a lot of time whispering to her, even when no one else is around.
“Chiquita.”
She swallows.
“Yes.”
Her voice is strained even though I keep the pressure light around her throat. I slip my hand around to rest at her nape. I draw her toward me, and she comes willingly. Our lips brush before the kiss deepens. There’s something not only exciting but also reassuring about it. It feels like I should always kiss her. Never stop. Never with anyone else.
Her hands rest on my pecs, but I grasp her hips and pull her against me, making sure she feels how much I want her. She slides her hands up and wraps her arms around my neck. Her fingers graze my scalp before tangling in my hair.
“Vita, do you want this to end?”
“What?” She jerks back.
“If you don’t let me help you, this will end with one of—both of us—dead. Is that what you still want?”
She’s slow to respond, but she shakes her head.
“I can’t tell you anything, Jandro.”
We freeze, staring at each other before resting our foreheads together. She’s never used any nickname for me. Her hands wrap around my neck, her thumbs sweeping over my cheeks. She tilts her head and kisses me. This one tastes like regret.
“Will you take a cyanide pill before revealing your secrets to me?”
Her smile’s half-hearted at best as she shakes her head.
“Chica, those shots could’ve been aimed at Pablo because he’s the heir. He’s committed his sins, and there are plenty who would love retribution. The same is true for me. It could’ve been someone else sent by your employer. They could’ve been meant for you as revenge or as punishment. In comparison, the chances that they were meant for Pablo or me are slim.”
“You know how this job works. It’s kill or be killed. You won’t let me walk away. Neither will my boss. Can’t I enjoy what I have left to look forward to.”
I step back and cross my arms. I observe her, fighting to rein in my temper. Of all of us, it takes me the longest to anger. Things piss me off left and right, but I refuse to lose control of my emotions enough for anger to take over. But now…
“Vita, if I wanted you dead, I would’ve pushed you in front of the window.”
I’m seething.
“I—I?—”
“You were just using me for my body.” I think I’m genuinely insulted.
She wraps her legs around my hips and tries to pull me forward. We both know I’m not going anywhere I don’t want to.
“You should hate me for wanting to kill you. I hate myself for knowing I should but not wanting to. I don’t enjoy being conflicted and feeling weak!”
