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“I’m sorry I offered. I was just trying to help you.”
“And why the fuck would you try to help me?” I hissed.
“You saved me just a few nights ago. I don’t consider that ancient history.”
I looked away, not wanting to see the gratefulness in her eyes. “I didn’t save you because I care. I saved you because you’re mine. Your pussy is mine, and your life is mine too. So don’t be grateful.”
“I am anyway. You know one of my biggest fears is to be raped…I fear that more than death.”
I listened to her beautiful voice, the strength mixed with the vulnerability.
“I thought you would want to use your prisoner to achieve your goals. If I die in the process, what does it matter to you?”
“Because I want to be the one who kills you, not my enemy.” I turned back to her, seeing the stoic expression on her face. I thought a statement like that would hurt her, but she seemed to be immune to it at this point. “And I don’t want him looking at you or touching you.”
She sighed quietly. “I agree with Max. I think this is a bad idea, and you’re going to wind up dead.”
“Wouldn’t that make you happy?”
“No, it wouldn’t,” she said seriously. “I want you to avenge your mother. Then I want to be the one who kills you—or my family. I guess we both feel the same way about each other’s deaths…we want them to be done the right way.”
“But only one of us is going to survive. Who do you think it’ll be?”
She looked so small on my couch, her long legs tucked toward her body and her dark skin so soft and beautiful. She made herself at home, like a pet that kept me company. A more beautiful woman had never been here, had never sat on that couch and looked at me like that. “Honestly, I think we’re both going to die at the end of this. Who goes first…I’m not sure.”
I listened to her say it so pragmatically, and that made me respect her. Death was a part of life, and there was no getting around it. The best thing to do was to accept it with dignity, to greet death as an old friend. “I think you’re right.”
“You’ll kill me first. But my family will make you suffer for it.”
“You have so little faith in yourself?” I questioned. “You don’t think you could do it?”
She looked away. “I’ve obviously proven that I can’t do it…”
So did I. I could have killed her two months ago, but she was still here. She was still breathing. She was still in my bed every night, taking my dick and my come. She was the only woman I’d had by my side for this long. She was the only one who managed to keep me entertained, keep me interested. The sooner I killed her, the sooner I’d have my revenge against the Barsettis.
But the idea hadn’t crossed my mind.
I kept telling myself I would kill her.
But was I lying to myself?
“So…three whores at once?” She gave me a look full of accusation—and disappointment.
So she had been listening. I didn’t deny it, having no shame in what I’d done. “Yes.” I held her gaze, not backing down and not making apologies.
“I’m surprised you pay for sex. You don’t seem like a man who needs to.”
“I don’t—but I like it.”
Now her look changed, the anger coming through.
“I like sex as a transaction. It’s fun—and then it’s over.”
“After what your mother went through, I’m surprised you would resort to that.”
“That’s exactly why I do it. I treat them well, and they have a good time.”
She turned away, her eyes brimming with suppressed rage.
“Jealous?”
“No,” she spat. “I’m just afraid you’ve given me something.”
“I’m clean.”
“Are you sure?”
“A hundred percent.”
But she still looked angry, still pissed off.
That’s how I knew I was right. “You are jealous.”
“I’m really not.”
I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. “Is it because they were whores? Because I’ve been with a lot of women. If that makes you jealous—”
“It’s because there were three of them…at once.”
I tried not to gloat, but that was nearly impossible. “And why does that bother you? Being with three women isn’t much different from one.”
She sighed through her teeth. “Shut up.”
I grinned wider. “This is killing you.”
She finally got off the couch and stormed down the hallway toward the bedroom. “’Night.”
“Baby.” I followed her, enjoying this way much more than I should. She was afraid I would kill her and her family, but she was actually jealous of me being with other women. She was jealous the way I was jealous, the way I got angry when I imagined her in a bar while men stared at her. I watched her tracker that night because I didn’t want her to go home with anyone else. If she did…I didn’t know what I was going to do.
