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Weaving in and out of traffic, I try to lose the third SUV before they get the chance to open fire on a crowded street. I take a sharp right at the light, hoping to throw them off my tail, but they stick to me. When I take an exit onto a highway, I weave behind a sixteen wheel truck, gunning to get through the gap between it and the car in front of them and make it onto the highway. Maddalena holds her breath, exhaling when we speed past the truck in one piece. I take the very next exit as fast as I can, running multiple lights to get us as far away from the SUV as possible.
She peers around the car. “I think we lost them.”
Regardless, I spend the next half hour driving in circles, making sure to double over my tracks and bringing us further into the Bronx until we reach one of The Brigade’s safehouses. It’s an unassuming rowhome tucked into the middle of the block. The area isn’t great, but the majority of the people on this street know to mind their own business—that some dangerous people own this home and it’s better for them to never find out who.
I park down the street, guiding Maddalena to the front door by the small of her back. My gun is drawn, and I don’t even care if any of the busy bodies peeping out their curtains see.
“Where are we?” Her head is on a swivel, taking everything in.
“A safehouse, just until things cool down for a bit. We can text your brother an update when we get in.”
I use the keypad to unlock the door. After turning the lights on, I immediately start a sweep of the interior. She waits in the foyer, obviously used to this from having guards her entire life.
The kitchen and living room are clear, but when I go further back, I hear a loud crash, then a feminine voice shout, “Get the fuck off me!”
I storm to the front door again, and a masked man has Maddalena on her back. Her gun is on the other side of the room, and her hands are clawing at his arms, his hands wrapped around her throat as he chokes her out.
Without thinking, I shoot him. Once in the back, once in the head. He falls on top of her, and she flips him over. She takes his coat and shirt off, her eyes roving over the tattoos on his chest and arms.
“He doesn’t have any ink that links him to a gang or mob, so he’s a freelancer…” she trails off, losing herself in thought.
I help her up, bringing her into my arms. I bury my face into her curly hair, relishing in how soft it is.
“Seems you’re pretty popular,” I jest.
What else can I say without upsetting her more? The fact that someone is trying to hurt my little killer has me seeing red. I know she can take care of herself—she’s a member of the strongest mafia on the east coast—but she’s still in danger and the protections put in place to keep her safe aren’t working. If anything happens to her, I’d break. I’d burn the entire city to the ground to find the people responsible. The unhinged thought invades my mind, driving me insane.
We complete the sweep of the house together. I keep her close behind me the whole time, so close that I can feel her chest brushing my back when I stop to enter the next room. The last room we sweep is the master bedroom. We meet at the king sized bed, and she stands in between my knees. She rakes her fingers through my hair as a sly smile spreads across her face. The feeling of her nails scraping my scalp grounds me and makes the red haze from earlier fade.
“There’s something devious inside you. You’re missing some marbles in this bag,” she whispers into my ear.
I grab her ass, hauling it closer until she’s straddling my legs on the bed. Her beauty, even after a night full of bloodshed and chaos, does me in. Her piercing blue eyes bore into me, like they can see the hollow inside me that once held a soul. I pull her face down to mine until our foreheads touch. Our lips are millimeters apart, and I can smell the coppery scent of wet blood in her hair. Combined with her flowery scent, it makes my senses buzz.
“Yeah, little killer. I’m a maniac when it comes to you. Anyone who tries to hurt you is going to know what it feels like to be a floor stain.”
She looks at the floor, as if she can see through it to the corpse downstairs. “If anything, you improved the quality of the carpet by adding some color.”
We share a laugh over her dark humor, and she licks her thumb, buffing away some of the blood on my cheek and kissing the clean spot. An unusual feeling claws its way out of my heart—love. Maddalena isn’t just my obsession anymore. I love her.
My heart clenches and the primitive urge to claim and keep her for myself increases tenfold, long past the point where it’s normal. Now it’s as intrinsic to me as my own heartbeat. I knew I loved this violent woman long before I watched her take Boris out, but to know she’s as dark and fucked up inside as me… that just confirms she’s my soulmate.
Maddalena
Garrix’s hungry, smoldering gaze hints at the blazing fire he’ll leave in his wake. He pops the thumb I used to clean his cheek into his mouth and sucks it clean.
“Mmm, you taste so good, little killer. So ripe.” He stands to peel my leather coat off me, then lifts my dress over my head, leaving me in my bra, panties, and boots.
Kneeling on the floor, he takes each boot off carefully, holding an intense, burning eye contact. He slides my thong off, bringing it to his face and inhaling deeply. Then he runs his tongue over the gusset fabric.
“Danger turns you on, doesn’t it? Knowing you’re risking your life… it gets you all fucking hot and bothered.” His finger glides through my arousal, and my pussy feels like it’s a live wire. “Knew it.”
He grabs my ass with both hands and pulls me forward. Sealing his mouth over my clit, he sucks down, then licks it with short, firm strokes of his tongue. He devours me, licking and sucking me until my arousal and his saliva trickle down my inner thigh and my brain starts to short circuit. He’s right. I’m so turned on right now that I feel like a pile of TNT—the fuse lit and ready to explode at any moment.
My legs start shaking, my breathing becoming shallow as my orgasm gets closer. I moan when he bites my lips, then nibbles on my clit.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he breathes into me. “I’m going to wreck your pussy, little killer. I’m going to take you over and over again, brand you from the inside so you won’t be able to see past me, let alone run away.” He slides two fingers inside me, rubbing my g-spot. My knees buckle, but he holds me up. “I’m going to dominate your every waking thought, just like you do mine.”
“Garrix,” I groan. I’m so close. So close.
