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Hissing out a sigh, he taps his ear, activating an earbud I hadn’t seen before.
“Update, Curse?”
I can’t hear whoever replies.
“Alright. Any sign of O’Malley?”
My mouth opens under his glove at the sound of my last name. He has to be talking about my dad.
But Elio completely ignores me, listening intently to whoever’s speaking to him. Infuriated at the dismissal, I open my mouth even further, then snap my jaws shut, catching the pad of his middle finger between my teeth. I know the glove must dull the impact, but I bite down hard, and even so the bastard doesn’t even flinch. Just raises a dark brow at me as he replies to the other person, telling them to take the bodies and move out.
Bodies? Plural?
Elio lowers his hand, yanking his finger from between my teeth, and I know this must mean there’s no one left to hear me scream.
“What bodies? Where’s my dad?” I ask, my words breathy and broken. I swallow hard, then cross my arms over my chest.
“Three Camorra goons. Dead now.”
“And my father? Where is he?”
“If he’s got any brains he’s on his way out of the country.”
What?
“No. No way. He wouldn’t leave me here. And Darragh Gowan’s men will be here soon to help. In fact, they’ll be here any second. You should go before you get another bullet in your back.”
I’m rambling. I know I am. And I’m probably being stupid as hell to threaten Elio fucking Titone with bullets. But he doesn’t seem to particularly care about my words. He makes an odd expression. I can’t tell if it’s a smirk or a grimace. The scarring along his neck and jaw makes one side of his mouth pull lower than the other.
“Mad Darragh won’t be sending anyone to help your father now. Or you, for that matter. Word’s started getting out about O’Malley’s penchant for skimming off the top. Your father may have paid back the money he took from the Irish, but Darragh’s not going to forgive a betrayal like that. And judging by Sev’s men here tonight, he still owes money to the Camorra.” He leans closer, his breath tingling along my ear and neck as he whispers, “He owes money to me, too.”
“But… you saved me!” I stammer. Why would he let my father or me live if we really owed so much? Mercy is not something Elio Titone is known for. “You got shot protecting me!”
“I didn’t save you,” he mutters darkly, so close that his lips brush the shell of my ear. He pulls back so I can see the ruthless darkness of his gaze. I’m horrendously aware of the hard length of his thigh pressing against my pussy and the scant protection my arms provide over my bare, bloodied breasts.
“I’m not your hero, Deirdre O’Malley. I’m your debt collector.” He gives me a wolfish, crooked smile, and it’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. “And tonight I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”
Chapter 4
Elio
This is the closest I’ve ever been to Deirdre O’Malley and I’m hard as a fucking rock. Heat seeps from her cunt, warming my thigh as she pants.
“I’m not yours,” she whispers raggedly.
“You are now.”
Her mouth tightens, and she shakes her head over and over again, as if she can shake herself right out of this reality. I take hold of her jaw, forcing her head into stillness. Her large eyes grow even wider. There’s fear there. But defiance too.
“Let me make your situation perfectly clear,” I say. My pulse throbs in my bleeding shoulder and my dick. “Your father owes me a great deal of money. He had until the end of the year, last year now, and he hasn’t fucking paid. Now, that debt is transferred to you.”
She swallows, delicate throat bobbing.
“We can pay it. Sell the house-”
“Not enough,” I growl.
“Not enough?” she breathes. “How is that even possible? How much does he owe you?”
