“You’re kind of insufferable.”
“Careful, my head inflates when complimented.”
The words fall off my tongue without care, while Verona shakes her head as if refusing to allow them to land.
“Why is it you’re so insistent on disliking us?” I ask.
“You’re mafia men, and therefore can’t be trusted.” I imagined she might think that, so I follow her once she has an idea of how large the closet to the room she’ll share with Rosalia is.
I made sure to give her the room with the larger closet, because Pablo, my brothers, and I can make do with whatever is available.
“That’s quite the broad stroke you’re using to paint with,” I muse. “You should sit in on our meetings with the other crime families we’re talking to about the trouble we plan to stir up in Savannah. I bet you’ll see how wrong you are. You may find you know more people than you think, and they hide in plain sight. Not everyone is as bat shit crazy at the Accetta’s, or at least we’re a different brand of it.”
Verona’s shoulders hunch as she nods, and we spend the rest of our time silently shopping.
We haven’t been asked once if we need any help, and I think people have been actively avoiding us. My guns are well hidden, but I’m also not hiding the fact that I’m dangerous.
It’s probably for the best that we haven’t had anyone approach us, as Verona is perfectly capable of finding what she needs, while I’m not in the mood for the worried staff.
I feel a buzz in my pocket, and I pull out my phone to find that I have a text from Dario.
Peacekeeper
Did you kill each other yet?
“My brother wants a proof of life,” I chuckle.
“Which one?” Verona asks, twisting around to face me. Her navy blue sundress shows off her body well, and I take the photo sending it to Dario before telling her who requested it. “Oh. He doesn’t like me. Is he disappointed that I'm still alive?”
“No. Keeping you alive is simply good pack politics,” I tease her. “Can’t have one at all if we manage to lose both the females within it.”
“That’s not true,” she says, rolling her eyes. “If you mention breeding Rosa in my presence, you’re going down like the sack of shit I believe you to be.”
“Please, continue to fight with me. It gets my dick hard.” I ignore the shocked glances around me as I begin placing our items down to be rung up by the cashier.
My cock loves it when I fight with people, and I refuse to acknowledge that it might have something to do with Verona as well.
“Ew. Cocks are gross.”
The cashier has difficulty not smiling as she concentrates on her job, and I shrug.
“I have a hand, Verona. I don’t need you to think it hangs the moon. I’ll be jerking off in the next room while you’re setting up the nest.”
“And they say romance is dead,” she murmurs, surprising a bark of laughter out of me.
Hmm. I guess this isn’t romantic, but I’ve been single a long fucking time. Romance is an atrophied muscle inside of me, weak from never being used.
I wait until we’re in the privacy of the SUV with all our things packed away in the trunk before continuing our conversation. Entering the address to our new rental into the GPS, I say, “Personally, I think murdering people who touch what isn’t theirs is plenty romantic, but what do I know?”
Turning up the radio, I decide to call this a draw as I’m met with stunned silence.
There are six people in this pack, multiple personalities and prejudices. Nothing about this is easy. While Dario is content to ignore Verona and Rosalia, I know that isn’t going to last for long.
Sometimes, the drawing of first blood leads to really good sex. All I know is that we’re in for some rough waters. It’s a good thing I can swim well.
Chapter Fourteen
ONE WEEK LATER
