Think of the greater plan.I’ve already started moving the chess pieces on my board, and killing the underboss would spark for war, obliterating the fruition of my plan.
Reason threads through the mental fog, and I lower the gun.
Next week, I have a meeting with the Syndicate. They will accept the deal because they need it more than I fucking do.
With sheer will, I shove the gun back inside, slam the compartment shut, and watch as he gets into his car. He drives away with no damn clue how close he was to dying.
I drag in a lungful of air, needing to calm down, but jealousy rages through me, urging me to fucking claim her so there’s no question who she belongs to—me.
Watching as she shifts from one foot to another, she picks up her phone, and mine flashes with her name.
I pick up, breathing raggedly.
“I just need five more minutes. I can explain.”
I disconnect the call.
Explain? She’s still so innocent. I guess I’ll have to teach her a lesson.
Climbing out of the car, I let myself into the building, taking the stairs to the second floor, too pumped up to collect myself.
At the door, I don’t bother knocking, but let myself in.
Viviana shoves her clothes into the suitcase, her erratic movements betraying her nervousness. She hasn’t even noticed me. My jealousy shifts to terror. Her self-preservation instinct is moot. For fuck’s sake, she has let me in, slept by my side, and offered me her trust. That’s all proving my theory.
Zipping the bag, she turns, noticing me.
She yelps, her hand shooting to her chest. “Tristan, you scared me.”
“Is it me, or something else?” My voice sounds as dark as the storm ravaging my brain. Fuck if I ever felt this unbalanced.
I shove my hands in my pockets, going for casual while my body buzzes with enough energy I’d tilt the damn world on its axis.
Her chest heaves with a stuttered breath, but she holds my stare. Arching a brow, she squares her shoulders, ready for a fight, not in the slightest intimidated by me—the only silver lining, because if she ever feared me, I would fucking blow my brains out.
“Evie could have been here.”
“Fucking God could have been here, and it wouldn’t have stopped me.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re overreacting.”
I get in her face, gripping her chin to force her to look at me. “I’m fucking overreacting?”
“We’re friends. Dario just came to visit.”
“Don’t say another man’s name in my presence,” I grit out.
She digs a finger into my chest, keeping my gaze hostage. “He’s someone important, someone who’s helping me.”
“Someone important.”
“Yes, I care about him.”
“Someone you had a crush on.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I was seventeen.”
Viviana claws her fingers into my lapels as if wanting to root herself in me. She doesn’t need to. She’s already there in my fucking cells, flowing through my blood, etched in my damn marrow.
