Blood gushed down his face, but Dominico smiled. The bastard. “My grandfather was convinced that it would be bad to get our hands dirty. He’s invested heavily in his image in his declining years. So, it was easy to sway him. You owe him nothing.”
And yet I waited for the other shoe to drop.
I advanced, stepping lightly forward. “And you?”
Dominico let me chase him. He was learning. I was too focused on his movements that I didn’t see the flying left hook until it was too late.
Pain lashed across my right side. The tender skin split. Hot, sticky liquid trickled down my face.
Dominico held up his hands in surrender. “Just remember I’m a good business deal someday.”
I swiped my knuckles across my face. More skin tore. “Writing a blank check for the future?”
The mafia prince stuck out his hand. I extended mine, covered in blood.
“Something like that.” Dominico shook, conceding the fight.
As he turned to leave the ring, I pressed the tips of my fingers against my broken face. The pain was lightning, scorching and brutal. I hadn’t had this much fun in an age. I used to love sparring. The fire of a fight, the rush of victory. They coursed through me, made me see things I hadn’t wanted to see.
Maybe…maybe it was time to stop hiding behind the mask and accept the new version. Dispensing with the tight clothing and the facial covering would be an added bonus. My burns would finally have a chance to fully heal.
But there was one drawback. A pretty pair of whiskey eyes. They would never look at me as a man and not a freak of nature. The mask made it easier to hide from the truth I didn’t want to face.
I plucked at the gold chain around my throat. Gabriella deserved a hell of a lot better.
Chapter 25 – Gabriella
My phone rang. I plucked it from the dash, saw a local number, and answered. “Hello?”
“Are you talking while driving?” the devil’s voice crackled through the void.
I switched it to Bluetooth. “Hands-free.”
Liam huffed. I turned right, exiting the highway onto the six-lane main strip. Cars zigged and zagged out of the lines. I needed to cross to make a left-hand turn.
“You should be in the SUV with my guys,” Liam grumbled. “I don’t like this traffic.”
I frowned at the phone, but merging took my entire concentration. Once I was finally stopped for the red light, I wet my lips and considered how I wanted to handle this. We hadn’t spoken since he lit my bed on fire.
Since he caught me in the bathroom.
My cheeks warmed at the memory I’d been trying—and failing—to bury. “Can I do something for you?”
There was a beat of a pause. “Just, um….” He sounded like he was struggling to open a jar.
“Liam? Is everything alright?”
We hadn’t seen one another in the daylight either. Every night, I waited for him to slide into bed beside me. It was like my body had been trained in the space a few short nights. It wouldn’t consider sleep until he was there. The moment the bed dipped from his weight and the covers rustled, it was lights out.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” A string of thick, Gaeilge words tumbled from his lips. I might not understand them, but the meaning was universal. Liam was cussing someone—or something—out.
“Okay, well, thanks for calling.” I turned left, merged into the right lane, and followed the lead SUV into the parking lot for the superstore. I hadn’t been in one of these in years.
That’s not true.
I gulped, struggling under the sudden rush of memories. The image of pushing a red cart. Of looking over the tender,innocentsection. Fingers touching things they had no business touching while my heart broke at the thought of what was to come.
My grip tightened on the wheel. Tears from the worst days of my life clouded my vision. I nearly rammed the front of the sports car into the SUV.
