Page 92 of The Savage

‘I’m not giving you back. Finders fucking keepers, bella ragazza.’

Her breath catches. ‘You think saying you know I’m going to fight you takes the wind out of my sails?’

‘Nah.’ I grin. ‘But I know what will.’

‘What?’

‘You sitting here feeling more alive than you ever have because you’re gearing up to fight me. You lying next to me at night, staring at me when you think I’m asleep and thanking every saint in heaven for your luck.’ I dodge the bit of pastry she flings at my head. ‘You riding my cock like it’s your favourite stallion and making me nut like a jet stream – that’s what takes the wind out of your sails.’

Her face is blazing now, bright enough to shame the sun. ‘I can’t get over how you talk so… so⁠—’

‘Your favourite swearword is motherfucker, baby. Spare me your outrage.’

Her scandalised gasp is fucking adorable. ‘It’s not.’

‘I dare you to try it out.’

She lifts her coffee defiantly, glaring at me over the rim. ‘I will not.’

‘Pretend you won’t,’ I murmur. ‘I can already hear you whispering it in your head.’

Her lashes drop, her cheeks burn warmer, and I laugh because I know she’s doing exactly that.

She tries to look away. I slide a plate of berries towards her, fork a slice of orange, and hold it to her lips. She hesitates only a second before she opens her mouth.

‘Good girl.’

I feed her slowly, savouring the way she shivers each time my fingers brush hers.

My phone buzzes.

And again.

And again.

She glances at it. ‘You’re ignoring it.’

I shrug. ‘Mm. The natives are getting restless.’

Her brows lift. ‘Speak plainly.’

I sigh, drag a hand through my hair. ‘Rafa.’

‘Your second oldest brother. The… unstable one?’

‘That’s one way to put it.’ I lean back in my chair. ‘He’s one of them, yeah. He’s the Enforcer and also happens to be the best tracker in the family. Can sniff out a secret buried at the bottom of the ocean. If he’s calling, he’s pieced together enough to know something is off.’

‘So we’re running out of time,’ she whispers. And I want to applaud her for not shying back from the naked truth.

‘Pretty much.’

She swallows. ‘And you? What’s your role in all this? Within your family?’

Ah. There it is. The realisation.

The truth she’s been circling since the moment she stepped into my world:

The Salvatores are not clean and neither am I.