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Thwack.
Thud!
I whirl around to find the guard on the floor, clutching his bleeding nose. Over him stands the resident devil of my custom-made hell in his signature black suit, hand-made Italian loafers, and an expression that matches a vampire hungry for blood.
I wonder if this is how he looked under that Anonymous mask twenty-one years ago.
A dark lord with a thirst for violence.
The irony of him punching someone in my presence again doesn’t escape me. Unlike the Joker from back then, the guard stands, raising his fist. The other guard cocks a gun and puts it to the back of Kingsley’s head.
Either this man has no regard whatsoever for his life or he’s much crazier than I thought, because he simply smiles at Nicolo with the air of a rebellious underworld boss.
“Now, I’m not chauvinistic myself and I won’t honor the dated thing with any form of defense, but shouldn’t the use of violence against a defenseless woman be frowned upon in your proud culture?”
That’s it.
This man is batshit crazy with suicidal tendencies.
“Shaw,” Nicolo greets with a nod to his guards.
“Luciano.”
The men swiftly retreat to their boss’s side, and a breath rushes out of my lungs. I thought I was seconds away from witnessing Kingsley’s head being blown to pieces, but it turns out, they’re acquaintances.
Wait…
I stare between them. “You…know each other?”
“Our fathers were friends who had the habit of comparing us.” Kingsley smirks. “Nicolo here likes guns because he sucked with all other toys—women included.”
“And yet, your woman came to me for help.”
“I’m not his woman.”
“She’s not my woman,” he says at the same time and we glare at each other.
Head-on.
Damn this asshole and whatever voodoo he possesses to strip my energy.
Whenever I’m in his orbit, it takes everything in me to hold on to the control I’ve cultivated for decades.
He’s unnerving and destabilizing, and there’s no cure in sight.
Nicolo’s lips lift at the corners like a cat who’s found a mouse. “I’ll leave you to it, then. See you tomorrow, Ms. Leblanc.”
“You’ll see my assault charge tomorrow, motherfucker,” Kingsley informs him.
Nicolo merely smiles as he turns around and leaves with the company of his guards.
As soon as they disappear, I storm to Kingsley until I’m toe to toe with him. “What the hell was that all about?”
He stares down at me with an arched brow, channeling a gorgeous villain with black morals. “Is that your way of saying thank you for saving me, what can I do to show my gratitude?’”
“Gratitude, my ass. Who told you I was in trouble? I was doing just fine.”
“Clearly, judging by your earlier pained expression that resembled a whore faking an orgasm.”
