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“I have an addictive personality.”
“Alcohol?” she asked. I gave my head a shake. “Drugs?” Might’ve been easier. “Women?” Woman.
Where pain usually hit me like the high of a drug, whenever Gianna Russo—or, sorry, now Marino—was involved, it felt like the comedown. Nauseating. It felt fucking bitter.
“But what if it’s not fixable?” she pushed, jumping to her feet, my file in a loose grip by her side. I paused with one hand on the doorknob and glanced at my wrist, at the elastic tie hidden beneath my cuff. A sardonic feeling pulled in my chest. “That, Sasha, is when I obsess
“You stink of depression, querida. Wash it away, and then I will do your hair.”
“What have you sacrificed to stand here today?” The thought escaped me, pushed from my lips by an invisible force. “Your soul?” I stepped closer, inches away, until his presence brushed my bare skin. Running the tip of the pen across his palm by his side, I whispered, “Just how much blood is on these hands?” He ran his tongue across his teeth, flicking his gaze to the side before bringing it back to me. Bottomless. Blue. My heart beat heavy, because I knew if I stared too long I’d be trapped beneath ice. “Someday,” I breathed, tilting my head, “it’s going to catch up with you.”
“What does her name mean?” He opened the door and a sliver of light poured onto the terrace. Black suit. Broad shoulders. Straight lines. His head turned just enough to meet my gaze. Blue. “It means ruler of men.”
Purple. A drop of sweat down my back. Yellow. The glide of skin against mine. Running my hands over my neck, I lifted the heavy strands and looked up. Blue.
“I hate you.” “I think about you.”
“You want to know why I don’t touch you?” I shook my head. “Because if I did, I wouldn’t stop. Not until I’d snuffed out that pretty fire in your eyes.” His gaze flashed. “Don’t shut yourself in a room with me again, Gianna.”
“Hello, Sydney.” She swallowed. “Gianna.” “Don’t mind me,” I said, sitting on the couch beside her and grabbing the TV remote. “I’m waiting for Ace. I just need to kill him, and then I’ll be on my way.” She nodded like she completely understood.
“I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I felt sick about the whole thing—” “This topic is positively boring,” I sighed. “I know, let’s talk about how my husband is in bed.” She made a noise of frustration. “Stop doing this. Stop pretending you don’t care.” “You want some honest emotion from me? Fine.” The words poured from my lips without any sentiment. “I hate you. I hate you for what you did. I hate you for still doing it. And I hate you for acting as though I’m in the wrong here. You’re dead to me, Sydney. Is that enough emotion for you?” You’re dead to me. You’re dead to me. You’re dead to
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My lungs tightened, constricting. Her wrist slipped from my grasp and disappeared into the darkness. You’re dead to me. “No,” I cried, as I dropped to my knees and fought to breathe. Sydney got her wish. She didn’t have to live without him. On my twenty-third birthday, I became a widow of one.
I realized what was wrong with Charming. His blue eyes were dull and cloudy. Not piercing and deep enough to drown in. Lovely. I’d let the disgustingly handsome fed ruin an entire eye color for me.
Since Allister wasn’t expecting me, I had to charm the woman at the front desk with every ounce of sweetness in me. I might have convinced her I was Allister’s long-distance girlfriend and that I suspected he was cheating on me. A tear made its way down my cheek. Shaniqua sighed in sympathy. “Oh, honey, you go on up there. And if you don’t beat his ass, I will.”
Darkness loved him—I knew without a doubt they were on good terms.
“I’m not one of your admirers. I’m not going to hold my dick and pine over you, just waiting for the day you might choose me. If I fuck you, Gianna, nobody else ever will.”
“Why don’t you want me?” I asked. “Is it because your good looks would pale beside mine?”
Allister was quiet for a while before a spark of frustration lit in his eyes. “I’ll be there tomorrow.” He hung up. Silence swept into the room. This was over. Disappointment . . . and something heavier flooded me. But then he dropped to his haunches in front of me, ran a hand across my cheek, and kissed me. Shock and warmth erupted in my chest. I moaned, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and climbed onto him until I sat on his thighs. He tasted so good, so addictive. And I savored every lick and dip, every press of our lips. He kissed me without any reservation, like he had a right to,
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“Do you have a decent cereal selection?” He ran a thumb across my cheek. “You won’t forget me.”
“Call this number if you need anything.” “Sure thing, Officer.” He smacked me lightly on the ass and walked out of the room. I later did my homework. His name was Christian. But it didn’t matter. It would be three more years before I’d ever see him again.
“Gianna, I don’t care about any of that. It’s just . . . I’m in love with you.” Valentina choked. Then coughed and smacked her chest.
“This isn’t Romeo and Juliet,” I said quietly, pulling his hand from my hair. “But if you push this, Vincent, we might end up like them.” I stepped around him and headed back to the deck. My mamma’s words filled my head with a sense of melancholy and the smell of her floral perfume. One day, you’re going to be a little heartbreaker. What a terrible fate.
She looked bored. “Say something in Russian.” This was a moment I would love to fill her mouth with something more productive.
As soon as I stepped into the hall, a thunk hit the door before I could pull it closed. I gritted my teeth. She’d thrown her goddamn shoe at me.
I’d never seen Ace interested in any particular woman besides Elena Abelli. The opportunity for my small vendetta practically landed in my lap earlier. Maybe it was a little immature, considering he’d slept with Gianna only once years ago. But . . . I held grudges. Fucking sue me.
Over my dead body would I assign some limp-dicked analyst to watch Gianna twenty-four-seven. “And if she is getting serious with him?” I’ll kill him. His eyes narrowed. “If she keeps fucking everything up, she’ll make this family look weak. She knows the consequences. If they’re involved, he’s dead and she’ll be dealt with.” “You won’t fucking touch her.” The threat escaped me, so calm and deadly it stilled the air. Two goddamn slipups in one day. I could have laughed, but I didn’t find it even slightly amusing that Ace now knew I had a weakness—he now had something to hold over my head. My
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“You wanna know the gossip I just heard in the ladies’ room?” she asked as we sat on a bench outside the hotel doors and lit a cigarette. “No.” “It has to do with Christian.” I might hate him, but I still wanted to unravel him like a cat with a ball of yarn. “Continue.”
“Well, surely, you didn’t know he’s only with the same woman a very specific three times.” I frowned. “Like, three dates?” “More like, three times between the sheets.” She smirked. When I still looked confused, she added, “Three romps in the sack? Three rolls in the hay?” I blinked. “Playing hide the pickle? Doing the horizontal hustle—?” “Are you saying he only sleeps with the same woman three times?” “I’m truly impressed with how quickly you put that together,” she said dryly.
“What were your whereabouts at approximately three a.m. last Friday night?” His gaze slid to me, sizing up my stance. “Home. Sleeping.” “See . . . I just don’t believe you.” “Why’s that?” he drawled. “Lucifer never sleeps.”
His lips pressed against my ear, words rough and threatening. “Run home to your husband before I make him a widower.”
“You can’t be here.” “Well, I am. Move.” Her eyes fell down my body. “You know, some of us girls actually use a mirror when getting dressed in the morning.” “Some of you also drop to your knees for a twenty-dollar bill,” I retorted, as I pushed past her and opened the door.
“Is that what you think we do? Play games?” “I don’t care what you call it. I’m done! With this.” I gestured between us. “With you.” Like the set of the sun, his eyes filled with darkness. A merciless darkness that wrapped around my soul and pulled. The force of the snap made me fall back a step. He slammed the car door. Stalked toward me. “You’ll never be done with me.”
“If you ran, Gianna . . .” The words were malicious yet somehow as soft and desperate as sex in a war-torn field. He pressed his lips to my ear. “I would find you.”
I leaned in to kiss him but he held me back. His voice was dark. “No more Vincent Monroe, Gianna.” “You threatened him.” “Hardly.”
“How many women did you kiss in Seattle?” The quiet question escaped me as I ran my fingers through the grooves in his abs. His eyes were steady pools of dark blue. He didn’t answer me, but he didn’t have to. He didn’t kiss. A heady sense of satisfaction filled me. Then why, oh why, Officer, do you kiss me?
“All of it, malyshka
“Ty samaya krasivaya zhenshchina kotoruyu ya kogda-libo videl.” “What did you say?” “You’re annoying.”
“Chocolate?” “Arsenic.” “My favorite.”
“What a shame, though. A whole lot of men would have paid to see Gianna in that get-up of hers.” He tsked in feigned disappointment, and anger burned my throat. I turned to leave, but . . . fuck it. “One last thing.” “Yeah?” When I turned to face him, I punched the smirk right off the fucker’s face. Ace wiped at the blood on his bottom lip, his eyes lit with amusement. “I guess this makes us even, Allister.”
“I don’t bite,” he said, sounding annoyed. “Liar.”
“What are you afraid of?” “Everything,” I whispered, trailing my finger across the starched collar of his dress shirt. “You’re not afraid of me.”
I shivered. “I think you just wanted me to speak your heathen language.” He didn’t agree, but the thumb he ran across a tear-track on my cheek said more than words ever could. “Worst Russian I’ve ever heard.”
“What do I taste like?” His eyes drifted back up to mine. They were so deep and serious they held me captive. His next two words tugged at my heart, even though I didn’t know the meaning. “Kak moya
“I had every intention of coming back for you three years ago, Gianna.”
“I was in Moscow those two weeks. But if I had known, I would’ve stopped it. Your marriage.” He looked around the cemetery, at the tent where my husband’s casket lay. “All of this.” My lungs felt tight. “It wasn’t your responsibility to save me.” His gaze was steady. “Nonetheless, I would have.”
“I thought you were braver than this, Gianna.” I wasn’t. I’m not. “Remember that the next time you offer me your body, malyshka,” he bit out. “Because next time, I’ll take it. Regardless if there are still tears on your face. Fuck, I won’t care if you cry the whole way through it.”
My silence was my forfeit. He shook his head. “Get in the car, Gianna.” He took me home, and we didn’t say another word to each other on the way.
“There are chocolate stains on all of your clothes.” “I can’t help it if I eat my feelings.” “If you aren’t careful, querida, you’ll look like a busted can of biscuits by Christmas.”
“By the way, loving the dress. Very classy steampunk. Can you breathe?” “Not at all.”
