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His words make me want to hurl. They literally make me gag. The man I looked up to and tho
ught I owed so much to says these vile things. I thought of him as a father. My stomach cramps with the need to vomit. I breathe through it, instinctively determined not to show weakness to him.
“I want a new handler. If you don’t make it happen, I will. The choice is yours,” I tell him, my voice quiet. I turn to leave and he grabs my hand, pulling me around to face him.
“You think you’re getting off that easy? You signed up for this fucking job and you’ll toe the line or you’ll pay. I’ve had Anthes in my sight for over a fucking year and I’m not letting some wet-behind-the-ears, wanna-be-detective ruin it for me. You have until tomorrow afternoon to plant that shit, or I’ll have someone else do it.”
“You can’t—”
“Watch me. Do your fucking job, Ana. That’s why you’re here. That’s the only reason you’re here. Don’t forget for even a minute that if Anthes knew you were a cop, he’d kill you. Without a second thought. You’re nothing to him. Nothing but an easy piece of ass who keeps her legs spread.”
I start to slap him again but he grabs my hand, preventing me.
“What happened to you?” I ask confused.
“Not a fucking thing. Except a woman I used to admire has become the fuck-toy to one of the vilest men in Miami. Get your head out of your ass and back in the game, Ana. Do your job, or I’ll do it for you.”
“I’m no one’s fuck-toy. You’re overstepping your bounds. I could have you—”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Roman snarls. My face goes pale as I turn away from Paul to see Roman standing at the door.
Fuck.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Roman
The last thing I expected to see was Ana standing there yelling at the one man I’m dying to kill. Paul Banks. If there’s a man more deserving to be on the wrong end of a pistol, I haven’t met him. Which is saying something, in my line of work. My eyes narrow on the hold he has on Ana and the strange look on her face. I walk to them, anger fueling every step. There will be no saving the motherfucker now.
“I suggest you let go of my woman, Banks. Now, while you still have a hand.”
Paul turns her loose with a look of disgust. “Anthes. I didn’t realize they let scum out on the streets this early.”
“What the fuck is going on here? Ana, how do you know this weasel?” I ask, and her face blanches and goes even whiter.
“Ana and I go way back. I never figured you were one to take my leftovers, Roman. I guess you’re growing bored of sampling the women who work for you.”
I hear Ana’s gasp, but my attention has turned to the fucker in front of me. All of my attention is on Banks.
“Ana, go to the car,” I order.
“Roman, he’s lying. I never slept with him.”
“To the car, Ana,” I tell her again, showing no emotion, but I’d be a fucking liar if I didn’t admit to the fact that knowing she hadn’t been with Banks doesn’t soothe something inside of me. “Robert, escort Ana to the car,” I tell my driver. I don’t turn to make sure my order is followed. I know it will be, and I don’t trust Banks enough to take my eyes off of him. “You come near Ana again, and you’ll regret it.”
“Has the mighty Roman Anthes fallen for a pussy?”
“You heard me, Banks. You can push your weight around all you want, but you and I both know what a bottom dweller you are. Be careful you don’t end up at the bottom of an ocean.”
“Is that a threat, Anthes? Threatening cops can get you in deep shit these days,” he responds arrogantly.
“Not a threat. I don’t waste my time with threats. I’m saying you so much as sniff the wind in Ana’s direction and I’ll end you. Take that any way you want.”
“Maybe she’s the one sniffing in my direction. Trying to find a real man who—”
I strike out before he can finish, my knuckles crunching against his teeth. He goes down with a thud. Blood pours from his lip and I hope I’ve at least knocked his teeth loose.
“Ana is not on your radar. Ever. Consider this the only warning you’ll get, Banks. You might hide behind your badge, but don’t forget I know where you’ve fucking buried the bodies.”
It’s a useless warning. He signed his death warrant when he put his hand on Ana. I planned on ending him for a while; I was just holding off, not wanting to draw possible attention as long as I was talking to Kuzma, but some things a man can’t ignore.
I walk away from Banks then, pulling my phone out and calling Bruno. “Banks has overstepped for the last time. You got the number of that guy we used near Orange County? Marcum?”
“Yeah.”
“Call him. I want this fucker handled. Set up a meeting tomorrow. I have that damn charity dinner tonight.”
“You got it, boss.”
I click the phone off and walk out towards the limo. I need to find out from Ana what the fuck is really going on because I don’t believe for a minute she’s let Banks between her legs. I hope like hell I’m not fucking lying to myself.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ana
Ugly. What just went on brought new meaning to the word “ugly”. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. The bad vibes Paul gave me when trying to force my hand the other day at my apartment were bad, but I didn’t think they’d go this far south. I never expected Paul to morph into someone I did not know. Someone I don’t want to know.
I’ll have to think about it later. What I need to worry about the most is Roman. What the hell am I supposed to do now? What did he hear? I don’t think I’m going to be able to distract him with sex this time.
Time for questions are over when Roman slides into the limo like a dark thundercloud.
“Roman …”
“How do you know Banks?”
“Roman. I—”
“Answer the question, Ana, and do us both a favor and don’t lie to me,” he growls.
His tone and words take me aback. I want to scream at him, but I can’t. It would be ridiculous, considering I’ve yet to tell him the entire truth since I met him.
“He saved me once.”
Roman’s face grows harder. “Saved you how?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Too fucking bad. Tell me, Ana.”
“Fuck you!” I growl before I can stop myself. I’ve had enough. Enough of men putting pressure on me. Enough of this war going on inside of me, enough of everything.
“Fuck me?” he asks, seemingly astonished, and maybe he is. I doubt any woman has ever told him to go fuck himself before. Roman’s probably got a long line of women who are ready and willing to say yes.
“You heard me. I’ve had it with men telling me what to do! That includes you, Daddy!” I punch the intercom button. “Robert, pull over.”
Roman’s eyes narrow and he pushes the button a second after me. “Robert, if you pull over, you’re fired. Take us to the apartment.”
“You can’t keep me here.”
“I can fucking do whatever I want.”
“Fine! I’ll jump out!”
I’m acting unreasonable. I’m just so freaking close to my breaking point. I can still feel Paul’s hand gripping mine and hear his hateful words. I feel like I’ve lost someone dear, because he’s dead to me. The Paul I thought I had in my life obviously doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t even get to grieve that before Roman is upon me with his demands. I just can’t handle it. Not right now. I need to get away…
“The fuck you will,” Roman growls, pulling me onto his lap, but there’s nothing loving about him this time. His grip and hold is hard. His arms are like a prison, locking me into him. I try to pull away, twisting and turning, bracing my hands on his shoulders to push away from him. His hand wraps in my hair and knots in it. I pull, ignoring the pain. It’s useless. He’s not letting me move. He pulls my head up and I’m trapped, not only by his hold on me, but by the look in his eyes. “You’re going nowhere, Ana. Ever.”
His words should fill me with fear. Instead
it’s excitement.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Roman
I know I’m being irrational. I haven’t been able to be rational about this whole thing since seeing Ana with the one man I despise above all others. Seeing his hand on her and touching what is mine only made that feeling more intense. I’m charging at her instead of giving her time to talk and be rational. But being rational is beyond me right now. I’m one step away from the ledge and Ana is trying to push me over. I’ve been gentle with Ana. Way too gentle. In a way, today is my fault too. She forgot who is in control. Time to fucking remind her.
“I want to know how Banks saved you.”
“And I don’t want to tell you!” she growls.
I’m a dominating man. It’s elemental to who I am. Until Ana, that’s been relatively easy. Women fall in line effortlessly. Ana’s continued defiance alternates between driving me insane and exciting me.
I claim her mouth. Our lips collide with so much energy there is almost pain. Teeth clash and our tongues war. My hand is tight in her hair, holding her, forcing her to submit while I devour her. I bite into her lip, not enough to break the skin, but enough to get her attention, leave signs I was there, and to show her who is in charge.
