Page 52 of Revenge on the Mafia

I’d never let this woman walk away from me. Not again. Not while I was still breathing. Thirty days. My first impulsive idea had crossed my mind like insanity on the drive to that shitty neighborhood. Statistically, an indefensible plan. Disproportionally high risk. There was no version of it that could end well. But it was going to be worth the risk. Because on the way over, I’d decided if anyone was going to get into her fuchsia panties, it had to be me. It was the least she could do before she killed me.

The car shook with the force of the passenger door being yanked open. The lamppost next to it caught the brunt of her rage. Metal slammed into metal. Hands hanging off the door frame, she shot me a glare and a question: “What the hell do you know about my family?”

Way more than you.

“Get in the car, Anna.”

“No.” She backed off, stalked to the back door, yanked it open, and reached for her bag. My hand whipped around and fisted her wrist. I had to grit my teeth and think of the increasing interest rates. Only then did I turn. “Get in the car now, or I swear to God, if you make me say the words, I will follow through with the deed.”

The threat hung in the air like dark, poisonous smoke. The weight of it was almost tangible. Her breasts moved up and down as she stared me down with hatred fueled in her eyes. Mine said ‘test me’. Doubt and fear chased each other across her face. After nine rushed beats of her pulse under my fingers, she decided I wasn’t joking and, with a sigh, dropped the bag back onto the seat. I released her hand. The door slammed shut. Rocking the car again. Here I was orbiting around her like she was my fucking sun, and she was geared to kill me. In fact, if her little knife wasn’t tucked in my nightstand drawer, I was sure she would have stabbed me in ten different places already.

Until last night, she’d loathed me. Now that I’d poured gasoline on it, her deep-rooted hatred was fire-balling inside the car. The bomb had already detonated. Just breathing it in was going to suffocate me.

She dropped next to me on the passenger seat, and the door slammed shut behind her. Her dress hiked up three inches. Another hand up, and I’d see her pretty little moles. Eleven years of wondering how many clusters she had, the shapes and sizes of them. The desire to push the flimsy piece of fabric up was so ridiculous that I had to curl my hand into a fist to stop it from shaking.

Fuck.

A mixture of irritation and frustration pooled in my veins. I raised my gaze to glare at her, but she’d got there first. Skinning me alive with her stare alone.

“Wear your seatbelt,” I told her in a clipped tone.

Surprisingly, she did it without an argument. Fucking smart wild girl. Pretty fucking smart wild girl.

I started the engine and drove off. Her smoldering gaze burned the side of my face.

“How did you get the key?”

This girl had no idea what I was capable of. “Do you even need to ask?”

A beat of silence, followed by her shocked response. “You paid him.”

“Of course I did.” She didn’t know half of it. I shoved his face into the toilet. I paid him as compensation.

I glanced at her. She had my fist curled on the steering wheel under observation. I relaxed my hold immediately. She frowned, bringing her gaze up to my face. I focused back on the road. She was trying to figure me out. There wasn’t much to figure out. My life revolved around her. Simple as that.

“Does a murderer have morals and ethics?”

I focused on the traffic. It was safer that way in more ways than one. “Depends on the type you’re looking for.” I’d just threatened her family. I’d pretty much crossed all the lines.

“How will I know you’ll keep your promise?”

At least there was no chance of her falling in love with me. I didn’t even know why that thought hurt like a stab to my heart, when it was a clear fact. I sighed to ease my breathing. “I’m a lot of things. All of them atrocious with a VIP subscription to hell,” I took my eyes off the road to level them at hers, “but what I’m not, is a liar.”

She frowned. She didn’t believe me. She didn’t know me as the man her father believed in. Then again, I didn’t add up to that man.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep my word.” ‘You’ll get to end me’ went unsaid. She swallowed. I followed the bob of her throat all the way to her collarbone, where her pulse beat crazily like a captured thing.

I shifted my attention and got to seventeen thousand seven hundred and eleven before she broke the silence. “When will you tell me?”

“When you please me.”

“Would it please you if I dropped some sesame oil in your morning coffee?”

I turned my head.

She gave me a sweet smile. “Accidentally, of course.”

I couldn’t help it. I had to feel the evidence of that smile. Reaching out, I stroked the corner of her lip with my thumb. She shrank away like I’d burned her with my touch. I pulled my hand away. “Why pretend? Own it, Anna. And no.”