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Luca’s teeth mashed together. “You think a couple of weeks of roughing me up will change my mind? This is a waste of time.”
“Shame.” On a sigh, I picked up my glass and took another sip. “The choice is yours, Luca. Either way, I control you. You can be out there, ruling your mafia with minimal involvement from me, or you can rot as a permanent prisoner of the Famiglia. Either way, I get what I want.” An end to the war and Emilia.
Nero would have his puppet mafia via Renzo if need be. I didn’t give a shit.
I downed the remainder of my second drink before slamming the glass onto the bar. “If your own life isn’t enough incentive, then consider this. If this doesn’t work, Nero will simply wipe out all trace of The Outfit.”
No one became inconvenient to Nero Verdi and lived to tell the tale. And for once, I was more than willing to unleash the monster.
“My reputation may be exaggerated, Luca, but I assure you, Nero’s is not. So, choose; the men who are loyal to you or the uncle who sold both your sisters as whores. If you’re too much of a pussy to care about your own blood, then at least think of all the men who died for Sergio and the ones who will now die because of you.”
I turned to Jackson. “Take him to the warehouse basement.”
Then I walked out of the club, leaving Luca Donato to his pain and his pride.
14
EMILIA
I stared at the ceiling of the bedroom Gio had finally allocated to me—only until the wedding. Or so he thought.
Morning light played over the molding, catching in the little crystals that dangled from the chandelier. As always, since sleeping without Gio, I woke tired and restless. I’d managed to sleep alone my entire life, but after a couple of weeks in his bed, I couldn’t remember what it ever felt like not to have the warmth of his arms around me.
Viscous nightmares clawed at the edges of my memory, dark shapes I couldn’t fully make out and didn’t want to. Sheer will was the only thing that stopped me from crawling into his bed in the middle of the night just so the presence of his body could keep away the demons.
I wanted to. More than anything.
I craved the sting of his palm, the control he wielded over me so effortlessly, the way he pulled me back to him every time. Without it, I felt chaotic, cast astray. Lost.
Giovanni possessed me in the best and worst ways. He brought me a sense of belonging I had never felt. Only to cast it aside when I trusted him, when I was vulnerable.
That left me alone, craving a man I was determined to hate. I closed my eyes and could almost feel his fingers on my throat, his dick driving into me like he owned every part of me.
My fingers slid over my stomach and into my sleep shorts. I was wet for him. Always wet for him. I pressed my clit and buried a finger inside myself, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t…him. I pushed harder, added another finger—
There was a knock at the door. “Emilia.”
I jumped at the sound of Gio’s voice and yanked my hand away, my face burning. Did he know what I was doing? Oh God.
“One minute,” I blurted.
Scrambling from the bed, I grabbed a robe and fastened it around my waist. I dragged a hand through my hair before crossing the room and opening the door.
He leaned against the doorframe, his open suit jacket revealing the black shirt and gun holster fastened around his chest. No man had a right to make such blatant violence look that good. He was like death wrapped in Armani, and I wanted those tattooed hands around my throat, that lethal body pinning me down.
The moment my gaze met his, my skin tingled, my entire body craving him. He was the warm safety of strong arms and the rush of a first kiss. He was danger and darkness and adrenaline in my veins.
His gaze swept over me before his lips curled into a wicked smirk that went straight to my pussy. “You look flustered, princess.”
“I… What did you need?”
He pushed off the frame and stepped forward, crowding my space. “Maybe the question should be, what do you need?”
He reached out, gripping my right wrist, and bringing my hand to his face. He closed his eyes and dragged my index finger beneath his nose. And I let him, transfixed by the way he inhaled me as though I were an expensive cigar. Those sapphire eyes flashed open, ensnaring me.
“Your pussy smells like sunshine and sin, piccola.”
My cheeks caught fire, and he smiled. Gripping my wrist tighter, he sucked my index finger into his mouth, humming before releasing it with a pop.
