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"That's dangerous, cara," I murmur, my voice low as I try to give her an out, one last chance to save herself. I trace circles on the small of her back, skimming over the silky fabric of her gown as I try like hell to save her from me. It's poetic, really…the man who kills without compunction suddenly desperate to save. "You don't know what you're asking."
She lifts her chin in a stubborn show of rebelliousness, staring back at me with an intensity that matches my own. She's so fucking innocent and so fucking defiant.
My cock throbs.
"I know exactly what I'm asking," she says firmly. "I'm not a kid, Coda. I'm twenty-one. That's old enough to make my own choices."
My heart beats wildly against my ribcage, pure, unadulterated lust surging through me. Is this little spitfire actually challenging me? Throwing all caution to the wind?
She should know not to tempt the devil. He'll lead her straight to hell.
A dangerous glimmer sparks in my fucking heart as I dip my head closer to hers. Our noses brush lightly. Hunger and need rip through me in a dangerous maelstrom.
If she wants to punish her father, who am I to stop her? Like she said, she's old enough to make her own choices.
"Very well," I whisper against her lips before claiming them in a searing kiss. It's possessive and raw, a promise of what's to come.
A soft moan escapes her as her hands tangle in the lapels of my suit, drawing me closer. The taste of her tongue intertwining with mine sets me ablaze. I fucking devour her, consuming her alive.
She kisses me back with the same raw desperation, whimpering into my mouth. Her tongue moves with mine, unskilled and somehow far too goddamn perfect.
We break apart, dazed by the raw intensity of our kiss. Her breath is ragged, her eyes wide and glassy.
I grab her hand. It's time to get the fuck out of this godforsaken place before someone tries to stop what's about to happen. It's too late for that now. Far too late.
They never should have let me get close if they didn't want me to take her.
A murmur ripples through the crowd as I pull her toward the doors. But I don't give a fuck about them. All that matters right now is Karina. She wants to play, and I'm going to let her. It's a dangerous game, but I won't allow her to be hurt. My issue is with her father, not her.
As she slips out of the doors with me, I glance back at the man in question. The prick is still too wrapped up in his own bullshit to even notice that his world just started to crumble.
Chapter Two
Karina
What am I doing?
The question bounces against the inside of my skull as I follow Coda Passero out of the ballroom, his fingers laced with mine. We leave my father and everyone I know in our wake. I feel dozens of eyes on us, but I don't look back. I don't stop walking either. Not even when my legs shake.
I don't know who this beautiful man is, but I can't keep my eyes off of him. He's a fortress, his body chiseled from stone. The muscles lining his back bunch and shift with every step, visible even through the fabric of his expensive suit. Despite his overwhelming size, he moves with a lethal elegance that's captivating.
How can one man command so much power?
My father's warnings about not trusting anyone, especially men like Coda Passero, echo in my mind. According to him, men like Coda are ruthless, cunning…consumed by their need for power and control. Yet, it's that same raw, unapologetic dominance that compels me toward him like a moth drawn fatally to a flame.
There's a dark magnetism about him that I find irresistible. He's not like anyone I've ever met before, not even close. I'm not sure there's another man like him in all of Chicago.
I expect him to lead me toward the doors of the hotel, but he doesn't. He cuts left and leads me to the bank of elevators nestled in an alcove.
We wait in silence, his eyes locked on me. I'm trapped in their depths, fascinated by the mystery they hold. There's so much flickering there, yet I can't read any it.
Who is he?
Not a cop. Not a fan of my father, either. That doesn't tell me much. My father doesn't have many fans left in Chicago. He's been a cop since he was my age. He's made a lot of enemies in that time. And they aren't all men he's put behind bars.
I think Coda is one of those—an enemy he made without ever locking cuffs around his wrists. I just don't know why or how. My father…well, there's a lot I don't know about the things he does.
Growing up, I always thought he was a hero. Cops are supposed to be the good guys, right? It wasn't until a few years ago that I realized that's not always true. Heroes can disappoint you, too. They're just as human as the rest of us. Sometimes, they're worse.
