“Mendez ambush.” I moved to walk away, and he stopped me with his next words.
“They wanted the girl, right? Why don’t you hand her over? You’ve come so far, built a solid foundation. Is she really worth the—”
“Finish that sentence and it will be your last, Leo,” I warned without looking at him and continued walking.
He followed me. “Are you seriously threatening me over her, Vincenzo?”
My eyes narrowed, I stopped and slowly turned to look at my uncle. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
Challenge flashed in those dark eyes then he seemed to rethink his words, turned, and walked away. Tampering down the heightened rage his words instigated, I glanced down at the girl in my arms and began walking. My uncle was right. I’d not only strengthened my father’s foundation but secured it so damn well, only someone with no value for self-preservation would risk going against me.
Regardless, I’d be lying if I said the idea of playing God over this girl’s life didn’t stir my thirst for blood—it seduced the fuck out of me. I laid her down on my bed and I was still leaning over her when her eyes opened. She looked up at me. As though she were still in a dreamy state, she reached up and palmed my cheek, her smile so slow, it was alluring. “You have such beautiful eyes,” she whispered, startling me then turned on her side and sighed, her eyes closing.
The frown still a rigid groove in my brow, I straightened and stared down at her. Plenty of women had tried but none had messed with my emotions like this girl did in barely a day. The urge to wake her and shake some fear into her, or better still fuck some rigidity into her, raced through my veins. Instead, I slipped off my suit jacket, walked into my closet, and quickly changed into sweats and trainers. Needing to work off my agitated state, I headed for the gym.
An hour later when bench pressing did nothing for my lingering agitation, I beat the shit out of the punching bag until my raw knuckles cried from the strain. Under the shower now, they burned like a bitch and flexing pulled the skin tight, drawing blood. I ignored the flash of pain when I reached for the towel and dried off. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I secured it, grabbed another, and dried my hair as I walked out.
I paused when I looked up to find Gianna, long sleep-tousled curls draped around her face, sitting on the side of my bed scrutinizing items on my nightstand. Leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, I watched as she tried on my titanium ring emblazoned with the Salvatore crest. Oblivious to my presence, she slipped the ring first on one slim finger, held up her hand, fingers down, and watched it slide off before trying it on her next. Her pink lips parted slightly, the tip of her tongue curled up over the corner of her top lip, her smile slight, almost amused by what she was doing, the light from bedside casting playful shadows across her ivory skin, once more, her sweet innocence came to fore.
Plenty of women had stained my sheets, but none I’d kissed, not even Lucia. Maybe I believed kissing created a certain intimacy worthy of lovers, or maybe I hadn’t found the right woman I wanted to share that moment with. Yet, watching this girl right now was a turn-on I’d never experienced, more so the abrupt urge to kiss her, to cover those plump lips with mine. I wanted to know how her lips would feel crushed against mine, kissing her hard until she couldn’t breathe, consuming the very essence of her. Would she taste like the strawberries I’d smelled on her lips the first time I’d almost squeezed the life out of her?
Jesus fucking Christ!
I had no fucking clue what the fuck was happening to me, but it was time to stop this shit. Clueless meant lack of control and lack of control equated loss of power and that was something I couldn’t afford—especially now when the vengeance I craved played with my fingertips.
Wake the fuck up!
As if she could hear my silent reproach, her eyes lifted, darting to me, her breath hitching on an audible gasp.
“Are you done snooping?” I asked, my tone stern.
Her cheeks immediately flushed a deep pink. She shot to her feet, but I didn’t miss the slide of her gaze over my naked chest before her eyes widened. “You’re bleeding.” The unconcealed concern in her voice startled me.
Refusing to acknowledge that weird fluttering in my chest once more, I straightened. “It’s nothing,” I muttered but I could feel the wetness of the blood rolling down my fingers. I’d pretty much torn the skin. Ignoring the pinch of pain, I balled my fists and took a step forward, expecting her to shrink back.
Instead, she dashed past me into my bathroom. My frown barely registered before she zipped back out with a first-aid kit in her hand. Biting her lip, her uncertain gaze lifted to mine. “May I?” she gestured to my hand.
“Get the fuck out,” I barked, hating that she wanted to help, hating that weirdness I couldn’t explain. Turning my back on her, I dropped to the mattress and covered my closed eyes with an arm. I wasn’t sure how long I laid there when soft fingers grasped my hand resting at my side and turned it, knuckles up. Removing the hand covering my eyes, I frowned.
Gianna sat cross-legged next to me with my hand resting on her thigh while she wiped my fingers with a towel.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growled, attempting to move my hand.
Not looking at me, she merely grabbed my wrist, held on and continued wiping like I hadn’t just questioned her. What the fuck was wrong with this girl? She should be fearing me. Baffled, I relented, her determination captivating, the tip of her tongue curled around the corner of her upper lip like she’d done when trying on my ring, even more so. Satisfied, I wasn’t going to resist, she cleaned off the remaining blood, squeezed some ointment onto the wounds, and rubbed it lightly. Next, she carefully wrapped a white bandage around my hand and secured it in place. Only then did her eyes meet mine and I could see the questions swirling into those lively greens.
“Other hand, please,” she whispered, the uncertainty back in her eyes.
This time, I didn’t resist and held out my hand. Given the angle she was sitting in, she had to move closer. Lifting onto her knees, she rested my hand on my stomach, leaned in, and began working on dressing it. I watched her, waiting to see if she’d meet my gaze again but all I got was fierce concentration on her task. Done, she slid off the bed without a word, taking the blood-stained towel and first aid kit with her into the bathroom. When she came out, I pushed up onto my elbows and stopped her movement to the main door.
“Where are you going?”
With her hand on the doorknob, she glanced over her shoulder. “You did say get out and I’m hungry.” She was gone before I could stop her.
Glaring at my two neatly bandaged hands, I shook my head and fell back to the bed. “Would wonders never cease?” Raking a hand through my hair, I stood. The stiffness under the bandage annoying me. I was on the verge of ripping the material off when my gaze fell to an earring on my floor, lying just under the bed.
I picked up the silver dolphin-shaped stud and stared at it, wondering if there was any sentimentality behind the jewel. Scoffing, I tossed it on my nightstand, entered my walk-in closet, and giving no thought to my action, I swapped my towel for sweatpants, sneakers, and a t-shirt. Downstairs, I walked into the dining room to the aromatic smell of something I didn’t recognize.
Rosana was crossing the floor from the kitchen and glanced up. She paused in her movements of setting a serving dish on the table, her gaze raking over my casually clad body. I cocked a brow, and she bowed her head.
