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I shake my head and slump against the drawers, sitting on top of one set. “No. I’m not like you. I don’t need blood on my hands to satisfy some warped part of me. I know what I am and what I’ve done, and when the time comes for me to die, I won’t regret anything. Revenge isn’t what I’m out for. I want to be free.”
20
IVAN
Twice in the night, Cilla tried to sneak out from under my arm. She’s had practice at being silent, but I’ve had more practice at waking under threat. The second she twitched, I dragged her back down beside me. The scent of soap and her body mingling with mine soothed me right back to sleep.
She’s not leaving my side until I take out her bastard of a father and his whole damn family, and if she tries to run, I’ll hunt her down alongside him. It might hurt a little to lose her at this point, but I’m sure I’ll adjust. I’ve had to adjust to losing people over the years, so this wouldn’t be anything new.
I roll over as the sun rises and stare out across the chrome maze through the window. Since I’m usually at the casino, I don’t come here. Hell, I forget the place exists most of the time, but moments like this…I should try to remember. Moments when my mind doesn’t feel ready to explode with the weight of my anger.
Cilla shifts in the bed beside me and then jerks my arm off her waist. “Are you awake now? May I finally get up and go to the bathroom?”
I scratch at my head and stare her down. “Don’t fucking pretend I kept you from pissing. You wanted out of bed so you could sneak out of the apartment. Don’t worry, tomorrow night, you can get up to your heart’s content. There’s an alarm on the door. If you so much as breathe near the door handle, it’ll let me know.”
Her scowl makes me smile as she heads into the bathroom and slams the door.
I head into the closet and grab a few items Michail brought. A white silk strappy shirt with a delicate fringe of lace, a matching pair of white lace underwear, black skinny jeans that will mean I can stare at the round curve of her ass anytime I want, and a pair of black leather boots to complete the look.
I lay the clothing on the bed and smooth the fringe flat. It’s pretty and fragile, just like she is. It’ll be important to remember that fact as we continue the plan.
When she exits the bathroom, I’m already dressed in a white button-down, slacks, and shoes buffed to a high shine. She narrows her eyes as I snap on my watch.
I nod to the pile of clothing. “That’s for you. Get dressed. We have somewhere to be this morning.”
I’m almost positive she’ll argue, but she chooses to surprise me and presses her lips together. A moment later, she drops her gaze, lifts the hem of her borrowed T-shirt, and tosses it to the floor.
I swallow as I’m gifted with the gorgeous sight of her naked skin. Her nipples are already stiff and teasing my control. One glimpse, and I’m done for.
“If you wanted to stay in so I could fuck you into a puddle, all you had to do was ask.”
She lets out a little squeak as she shimmies into the underwear, then clears her throat. “No. I just figured you’d already seen it all. What’s the point in modesty now.”
I step closer and stare down while she continues dressing, this time faster. As if the little scraps of lace will keep me from taking what I want. “You’re lucky we have an appointment, or I’d show you exactly how little I care about modesty. You’d be naked every day, so I can slide my fingers between your thighs anytime I want.”
She stares at me, eyes wide, fingers stalling on the edge of her shirt. “You, what?”
I lean down, bite the tiny dip in her chin, and then turn her toward the door. “Let’s go. We can talk about it more when we get back.”
She doesn’t pull away when I capture her hand and hold it until we reach my car in the underground garage. Usually, the valet brings it around, but I’m in a hurry, and we are already running late.
El Corredora lives on the same side of town, so it’s not far to find my top drug contact in the city. His security buzzes us in when we step up to the camera. The top floor of the building is a twenty-four seven party. Any kind of entertainment you could want, El Corredora—the runner—can provide. He’s not a member of society, having his own organization to answer to, but he does work with many of its prominent members.
