Page 84 of Bratva Menace

“How what?”

“How would you do it? Tell me. Describe it to me. In lengthy detail.”

Startling blue eyes studied me curiously. “Why?”

“Because I’m fucked up, why else?” I shrugged, unashamed. “So? Come on. Tell me. What was your plan? Shoot him? Get it over with quick and easy? Or take your time? Do it nice and slow, and make him suffer for all the bullshit he’s put you through?”

He looked down at his plate. It was almost empty, only a few pieces of steak and potatoes left. I studied him, the look on his face and his body language, trying to figure out for myself what he was thinking.

A shocking thought occurred to me. “You didn’t have a plan, did you?”

“It’s not that I didn’t have one,” he said immediately, his spine snapping straight. “I just work better when I wing it. That’s all. I planned to wait for the best opportunity. Most likely when I had him alone. Maybe in his office, late at night, after he’d had one too many drinks. I’d lull him into a false sense of security with idle chitchat, let him talk my ear off about how great and mighty he is, and then when he least expects it—” He swiped a finger across his throat, making a kkkkkkkk sound as he did so.

“Sounds like it could work.”

“It would have. I would have made it work.” He pushed his plate away, leveling his gaze on me. My skin heated. “I have a proposition for you.”

“I love propositions.” I sat forward eagerly. “What is it?”

“Me and you⁠—”

“Love it already.”

“One on one⁠—”

“You sure? I’m not opposed to a few extra people⁠—”

“We fight it out⁠—”

“Not where I thought this was going, but I’m into it.”

“If you win, I stay here with you⁠—”

“Uh-huh.”

“And if I win, you let me go.”

“No,” I flat-out refused. “Nope. Sorry. No can do.”

The sexiest, devilish smirk graced his lips. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll lose?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I see what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” he asked innocently.

“You’re trying to appeal to that competitive side of me, and it isn’t going to work.”

“Isn’t it?” He winked.

Okay. It kind of was. That gorgeous, long-haired son of a bitch.

“I know I can beat you. I don’t need to prove it.”

“But wouldn’t it be so much fun if you did?” He breathed.

I internally groaned. Yes. It would be. It would be so much fucking fun, which was exactly why I couldn’t do it⁠—

“Think about it,” he whispered huskily, his deep, seductive voice making shivers dance all over my body. “Me and you, rolling around, getting all hot and heavy. Touching. Our bodies, close, rubbing up against each other⁠—”