Pinning Giacomo’s right hand to the table, Nico’s deadly blade flashes like a silver cobra striking, and Giacomo howls in agony when his pinky finger is chopped off.
“But I told you I was right-handed?!” he screeches in pain and mortification.
“You did,” Nico agrees, coolly wiping his knife on Giacomo’s suit before deftly concealing it again. “Your left hand might not have got my point across.”
Maddalena vomits the fruity cocktails she consumed, ruining her designer heels. Turning back toward us, Nico jerks his chin at my sister. “Bobo, get her out of here.”
The guard obeys at once, tugging my sister by the elbow toward the exit. She’s too shocked to resist, but I’m not. “Stop!” I shout, running after them. “You cannot-”
The words are chased from my mouth when powerful arms surround me. I suck in his woodsy fragrance greedily despite my confusion and concern. “He can and he will,” Nico assures me, his warm lips grazing my earlobe before I’m thrown over his shoulder for the second time in my life.
My anger ignites, causing me to furiously beat at his back with my fists. I may as well be a fly buzzing around an elephant. Nico carries me from the VIP room with his brother’s maniacal laughter following us.
I lose sight of my sister and the giant in the long hallway because Nico takes another route. “If he hurts her…”
“Bobo will not hurt your sister. Sheisyour sister, correct?”
There’s no point in denying it now. “Yes.”
“We’re going to have a talk about that later. But first, you and I have other matters to settle.” His words aren’t even strained as he carries me up a set of stairs, but I’m seriously starting to wonder how much trouble I might be in. My bedtime fantasies seem ridiculous in the face of this cold-blooded killer. Will he simply fire me? Or worse?
Outside, my eyes struggle to adjust from the basement’s variety of darkness to this alleyway, when he opens a car door. A limo. Nico heaves me into the back. Primo’s astonished eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror for half a heartbeat and then I’m scrambling across the leather seat to the other side, intent on escape. “Oh no, you don’t,” Nico says, sharply.
My hand has barely closed around the door handle when I’m jerked backwards. The door locks click while I’m sliding across his lap on my belly. Heat blasts my face, knowing my short dress has surely ridden up to expose my blue cotton panties with the little red cherries on them.
“Christ,”Nico huffs, making my nipples tighten with humiliating desires in this vulnerable position.
But that’s not the end of my embarrassment.
“Where is my sister?” I shriek as the privacy screen between us and Primo starts to close. “Why are you here? What do you-”
“I will ask the questions, Matilde. How many times must I warn you not to disobey me?” The privacy screen is still closing, and he doesn’t wait for a reply before he’s spanking me. "You."Swat."Will."Swat."Obey."Swat."Me."Swat, swat, swat.
“Nico!”I yelp.
His grip loosens, unexpectedly. Faster than I thought I could move, I tear at his shirt, grabbing anything solid I can reach while savagely digging my knees into his lap until I’m upright and facing him. I manage to get my knife out during our grappling, but I wind up straddling his hips.Oh Dio.Thank God the privacy screen is finally raised. “I’m not a child! You cannot do that, Nico! You-”
“At. Fucking. Last. You’re finally saying my first name.” He doesn’t even seem to care that I’m holding a switchblade to his chest.
“I did not-”
“Say it again,” he growls, the rumbly, pleased noise shooting straight from my ears to my pussy.
“It was a mistake.Sir.”
“No, not sir. You will never call me sir again. Say my name, Matilde.”
This man and his orders, always so bossy. “What if I do not…sir?”
“If you act like a child, I’ll be forced to treat you like one.”
He spanks me again – three more swats – but in this position, with us facing one another, the effect is entirely different. Yes, my bottom burns, but something inexplicable twists my insides with sinful yearning. “I hold a knife,” I warn him.
“Do you want to poke me full of holes with that or would you rather I poke you?”
I scowl at him, confused by his tone and how unbothered he is by the knife. He seems… quite happy. As happy as Nico gets.
Then, he pulls his own knife.Oh Dio,maybe I've misread everything. But he doesn't hurt me. He slowly slides his blade against mine, the scrape of steel on steel almost erotic in a way, like a dance, when he's staring at me so intently. His other hand is warm, cupping my ass cheeks, and I don’t want him to move it. This is all very… peculiar.
