My mouth closes, and I swallow, savoring the flavor of him. His thumb, glistening with his release, glides across my lips, painting them. A tattooed hand wraps around my throat, tugging me to my feet as he bends to kiss me sensually. My fingers dig into the lapels of his jacket for stability. Knowing he’s tasting his flavor on my lips and in my mouth has electricity fizzling to every nerve ending.
The kiss is desperate. Heated in a way that has me aware of the sheen of moisture clinging to my skin. This dress suddenly feels like too much fabric. He’s burning me with his mouth now as his tongue explores mine. Searing me through my flesh to thepoint he’ll char my bone and leave permanent marks—physical signs of this undeniable fervor that flows between us.
My lungs are on fire, so I pull back, holding my hands between us, worried he won't stop and continue trying to suck out my soul until I pass out.
Surprisingly, he leans forward, leaving a gentle kiss on my nose. “Now go eat your dinner. I’ll be rewarding you later.”
“You expect me to be able to focus on my food after that?” I whine.
He laughs. A genuine one that I want to savor. One that is so beautiful and lively that I want to draw it out more. “You distracted me from mine, darling. It’s only fair. Plus, tonight’s not over yet. There’s one more thing I want to show you.”
THIRTY-SEVEN | PRESTON
The breeze brushes against my skin, the horizon a dark void beyond the harbor lights that dance on the surface of the water in the distance. A literal sea of stars that I’ve appreciated so many times.
Kate’s hands are perched on the edge, her beautiful, big green eyes taking in the expanse of rainbow that stretches around us.
This view used to be one of my favorites. Despite what transpires below, I used to associate Lachlan Park with laughter and bright faces. Memories of Tayla and me running around here as children before we grew up and understood the role this front played in our operations.
In what feels like an instant, all the joyful recollections were replaced with carnage and blank, lifeless eyes. The joyful voices I heard as a kid were suddenly shattered into oblivion by the crack of gunshots slicing through the air. The breeze off the water rushing through the park transformed into the last gasps of breath from my men—from Luciano’s—grazing against my skin and echoing in my ears as punishment for being fooled by the distraction that cost me the two people who were my world.
Through the years, plenty of massacres have happened in this park when the gates close. All those useless souls from men who broke our blood oath were sacrificed for our high-stakes training exercises, which aimed to train recruits and punish those who defied us. But that night five years ago, it became a battlefield. A piece of history that people walk on, unaware that once the concrete below their shoes was spoiled by blood and brain matter.
I could never bring myself back to this view.
Until tonight.
Even now, as I sit at the top of the Ferris wheel, pain and hurt are still dense in my gut. My muscles are clenched, a sweat breaking out on my forehead. It feels like gravity is trying to haul me back to the ground, like I was never meant to be back here without them. An inferno is raging in my lungs. Dropping my head and closing my eyes, I blow out a breath, folding my hands in my lap to stop them from shaking. The air isn’t thinner up here, but it feels that way.
My body stills when soft skin envelops my hands balled on my lap. My head tilts, looking up at the striking girl beside me, her eyes transfixed on mine with a heady mix of wonder and worry. But she doesn’t say anything as her body next to mine soaks up my trembling.
I’m the goddamn boss of a mob, and here I am quivering like I’m afraid of heights.
Kate doesn’t say anything. She tenderly holds my hands in hers, her thumbs stroking soothing circles that start to chase away the darkness leaking in the corners of my vision.
I release a breath, the exhale carrying a little bit of the weight sitting on my chest. “Five years ago was the 90thanniversary of Lachlan Park.”
Kate knows how violent my sister’s and my mom’s deaths were. A tidbit my father released when he had us in theinterrogation room when she was bound to the chair. But she doesn’t know why their hearts were in that box.
Why it happened.
Why they were killed.
Why I needed to watch her to make sure she wasn’t involved.
Those green orbs bounce between mine, listening intently.
A bleak, breathy laugh leaves my lips. “We always used to throw this huge damn party where the entire town would show up. At the end of the night, after the park would close, my family would come up here—like you and I are now.” My eyes dart around the black sky blanketing us, my heart smashing against my ribs. Recounting what happened is bringing it back in a violent wave. I push on. “Mom and Tayla made it on, but my father and I never did. We heard gunshots from deeper in the park and rushed there with Carter and our men, leaving my father’s right-hand man to protect them. We thought they would’ve been,” emotion clings to my tongue, “safe up here.”
My gaze falls to the floor below our seat, while her eyes bore into my skull. Her fingers tighten around mine, giving me the strength to keep going.
“The Calco Cartel, an Italian mafia group, was looking to do business with us when it was under the leadership of Marco Giovanni. At one of our meetings with him, he was poisoned. His brother thought we were the ones who killed him.”
Kate sucks in an audible breath. Her voice is soft with caution. “Did you?”
My head shakes. “No. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to get revenge. A sibling for a sibling.”
One of her hands leaves mine, and I presume it’s to cover her mouth in shock. “But your mom…”
