Her shoulders tense. “Go fuck yourself, Bronx.”
I lean against the refrigerator, a grin spreading across my face. “You kissed me back, princess. Hard. Remember?”
She finally slants me a look over her shoulder, eyes blazing. “Don't mistake physical reaction for emotional investment. They are not even close to being one and the same.”
I hold up my hands. “Wouldn't dream of it.”
“Good. Because I'd rather die than give you that satisfaction.”
After she leaves for good, I stand in the kitchen, replaying every word and every touch. I let out a deep sigh. She's right to call it control. That's exactly what it is.
Every day, I push her toward a choice that'll destroy her family.
But fuck me, because I'm starting to care more about keeping her than completing this damn mission.
Which makes me the most dangerous kind of man, because choosing her puts everyone at risk.
15
TIERNEY
Livvie Viacava’s name lights up my phone.
My eyes roll at the sight of it, not because it’s her. Because Bronx was at his work again and must have added her number to my contacts.
The phone rings twice while I stare at it, brow scrunched, coffee hovering halfway to my mouth. Curiosity wins and I answer.
“How can I help you, Livvie?”
“Hey, I have a charity art auction tomorrow,” she says. “Wanna come with me?”
Moving away from the kitchen, which I’m not hating as much anymore, I wander into the sitting room and drop onto the couch, tucking my knees into my chest.
“Why?”
“Don’t you like art?” she asks. “You could buy a piece for the apartment.”
I glance around at the sleek dark wood and leather thatscreams Bronx. “I mean, why are you asking me? The Viacavas aren’t exactly a welcoming bunch.”
Livvie lets out a quick burst of laughter, the sound warm and unbothered.
“Once you’ve gained their trust, they’re a lot more friendly,” she admits. “Look, I know what it’s like being an outsider and getting to know a new city. I married into this family, too, and I had to prove myself to Kingston’s parents.”
“I don’t need to prove anything,” I reply, gaze drifting to a helicopter skimming low across the sky beyond the window.
“Don’t you?” she asks. “You know what you took… how that could change things.”
My jaw tightens. “It wasn’t anything personal.”
“Well, it’s personal now,” she says. “And from what I hear, you’re locked up in Bronx’s apartment for your own safety.”
The mug lands on the side table with a thud. My feet drop to the floor and I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees.
“Which is probably why attending an auction is a bad idea, right?”
Livvie laughs again, softer this time. “You know Kingston wouldn’t let me go anywhere without a full security team. It’s over the top, but once you’ve taken a bullet, having armed men around isn’t as painful.”
I drag a hand down my face. This is unfamiliar territory. I handle weapons better than I handle people.
