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He made a noise in his throat, one of disbelief and surprise. “You think I care about that old lady?”
“She is not old—only fifty-three. And she has done nothing to warrant dying.”
“Neither have I.”
It didn’t matter. Not to me. “You are an assignment. One I cannot refuse.”
“Why?”
I said nothing. He wouldn’t understand, nor would he care. The target never did. Their only concern was over their own miserable life.
“You’re bleeding.” He nodded toward my arm.
I looked down and saw a tear in my coat, the red stain growing underneath. Pulling off my coat, I examined the wound. It was a scratch. “You’re not a very good shot.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “You sound disappointed, Alessio. Were you so keen on dying today?”
“To be killed by the Ravazzani heir, it is a privilege, no?”
“Stop calling me that,” he snarled through clenched teeth. “I told you, I have nothing to do with my father any longer.”
“Your phone records say otherwise.”
His eyes widened. That this surprised him said a lot. Giulio had grown cocky in the years since Belgium, believing he was more clever than his enemies. He should’ve known better.
We stared at one another and I wondered what he would do now. He couldn’t kill me and he couldn’t get off the island. Even if he did, there was no place on earth he could hide from me.
I held the power over this man, not the other way around.
His gaze traveled the length of my body, almost as if he was assessing me. Just as he did that night in the club. I knew how I looked, a scarred face. Terrifying. Cold. But whatever Giulio saw across the crowded club had appealed to him. He’d chosen me—and I’d let him.
“Are you hoping for another blow job?” I asked softly. “Because you’ll be disappointed.”
“Va all’inferno, testa di merda.” Go to hell, shit head. “As if I’d let you near my dick again.”
Needing to prove a liar out of him, I licked my lips slowly. “Cazzata. If I dropped to my knees, you’d whip it out—”
“Vaffanculo!” Brow pulled low, he stormed toward the door and yanked it open. “Stay away from me, Alessio. Or next time I won’t miss.”
He slammed the door behind him and I was left alone, the hint of a grin on my face.
CHAPTER FIVE
Giulio
I needed more weapons.
In the early morning dawn, I stared at the supplies spread out on the dining room table. Three old guns, four boxes of bullets and a large hunting knife. It wasn’t enough, not for taking out Ricci.
After our encounter in his room yesterday, I tried to buy passage off the island. Except none of the fishermen would take me. They all waved me away with a fearful expression, like I was cursed or something.
Clearly Alessio had threatened all of them to keep me trapped on Canna.
I hardly slept last night, convinced Alessio would come after me in the dark. Yet he hadn’t. The evening had passed quietly, with no sign of him anywhere.
So today I arrived at a decision. While I was no longer a member of the ’Ndrangheta, I was still my father’s son. A Ravazzani, raised on blood and death. We were survivors, a line of kings born in the dry Siderno soil.
Which meant I would not sit around and wait for Alessio to shoot me.
