We explained the rules.
They were no longer working for Charles or Ray Romano.
They worked for me, and if they disrespected Emily, they would have me to deal with. If Emily betrayed me, they were instructed to inform me. After updating Nick, who had just finished cleaning up the late Mr. Donavan’s office, I headed to see my Karina.
The bedroom was tasteful, with high ceilings and warm tones. Too warm for me, but she seemed to like it. Our bags had been brought up, and she was changing into an outfit for dinner. I had caught her in a towel, fresh from the shower, her vanilla scent hitting me like a fucking freight train.
“Col, you scared me,” she breathed, as her hand lowered from her chest.
I seemed to be doing that a lot more than I had liked. “Apologies, Angel.”
She turned back to the clothes she had laid out on the bed. “I don’t know what to wear to a mafia dinner,” she said sheepishly as I approached her from behind. My fingers picked up a chunk of her hair from her shoulder.
“You haven’t seemed to have a problem picking outfits over the last few days,” I noted, ignoring the clothes.
“Yeah, but I actually like Emily. Maybe in the future, she and I could be friends.”
I stiffened. Swallowing, I asked. “The future?”
She whirled at me then, panic filling her eyes. “Don’t.God. Don’t shut me out. I was stupid. Pleas—”
“Don’t you ever call yourself that again,” I growled, taking her head in my hands.
Her eyes were filled with tears, and I worried I'd scared her again.
The truth was…
I was tired of being her villain.
“Don’t ever shut me out again,” she begged.
“Karina, you went into a full-blown panic attack while watching me dismember your rapist,” I reminded her, my words coming out harsher than intended. I let her go, stepping back from her. I ran a hand over my shaved head before resting it at the back of my neck, my jaw jumping.
She should have been running for the fucking hills by now.
“I was having a panic attack because I want a future with you!” she cried. “I want you, Col. I never want this to end! This last week with you felt like a dream, and I am waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I stared as I tried to make sure this wasn’t a fever dream. Could she really be saying all those things to me?
“You have been watching me kill people all week.”
“But I have beenwithyou. All I have wanted for the last decade isyou,” she whispered.
“Stop,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets as my jaw tightened to distract myself from the pain in my chest. This fucking ache. I loathed it.
She looked away from me, running a hand through her damp hair. “I know that I'm crazy and that I'm emotional, but I can’t shut them off like you can! I can’t—”
Fuck it all.
In a flash, I closed the space between us, capturing her lips with mine. She may be emotional, butfuck,I loved it. She was sohonest and open with me. I had been lied to and used all my life. She was the only person who wanted me for me.
Why in the fuck was I struggling to accept that?
She made me feel wanted.
Raw.
Exposed.
