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In my defense, it’s smarter to watch the man holding a gun and not have your back to him.
He twirls the gun around a single finger, as if it were a toy, and walks toward me. “Do it then.”
I wince. “Do what?”
“Shoot me.” There’s no humor in his voice or face as he holds out the gun.
I force a laugh. “Your family would murder me and everyone I know if I so much as laid a hand on you.”
“Who says they’d know it was you?”
“I walked into this roomwith you.”More like shoved in, but whatever. “You end up dead, all fingers will point straight to yours truly.”
He snatches my hand, shoves the gun into it, and strolls toward the bar cart in the corner. He has no concern about being the person with their back to a weapon.
I stay still, the gun in my palm, as if on a platter, while he pours himself a drink.
When he turns around, the glass hanging from two of his fingers, I shake my head.
“I’m out of here.” I force myself to move to the door.
But Benny is faster than me.
These damn heels.
He blocks the doorway and rubs his chin. “Looks like I called your bluff.”
I straighten my shoulders. “I’m leaving.”
He slowly shakes his head. “You leaving now suddenly sounds so boring.”
“I enjoy boring.”
He scoffs. “Neomi Cavallaro, you do not enjoy boring.”
We’re so close that his glass brushes my face when he takes a drink. It’s a teasing drink—one only enjoyable because he slowly sips on it to fuck with me.
He tips it toward me. “They call you Wild Cavallaro.”
“And they call you Psycho Marchetti.”
“Watch your mouth, or I’ll prove I live up to that name.”
“What are you going to do?Kill me?” I smirk. “You can’t. There are only a few people off-limits to murder in this world, and one of them is me.”
“Wrong. It’d cause me a few headaches, having to off your father and brother as well, but I don’t have a conscience. It wouldn’t be too bad of an idea, considering I don’t want to marry you anyway.”
I shudder and tighten my grip on the gun.
“I can’t marry someone who’s dead,” he continues, as if further convincing himself killing me isn’t such a bad idea.
“Are you forgettingI’mthe one holding the gun?”
He sprawls out his arms. “Take your best shot then.”
My fingers sweat as I raise the gun and aim it at him.
He coldly chuckles and tips his glass toward me. “You won’t do it, you fucking coward. Just like your family, who had to blackmail my father so I’d marry you.”
