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“You are the most…infuriating woman I’ve ever met. If I have to, I’ll lock you in a room.” He stomps away from me, and I grab a knife from the case, throwing it through the air.
I don’t aim it at him, but I only want to get his attention. It lands in the wall, and he stops in his tracks. Even though he is turned away from me, I notice the movement in his shoulders and his spine. He straightens. His shoulders widen and he wraps his hand around the handle, then tugs the blade from the wall.
“You know, Tesoro. I’m getting tired of you throwing knives at me.”
“I’m getting tired of you trying to control me. I’m going with you and that’s final.”
He spins on his heels and charges at me so fast, I don’t have time to react. He pins me against the glass case, the sharp edge of the blade kissing the skin of my neck.
“You really piss me off, Rosie. You know just the way to get under my skin to claw at my damn nerves.”
“The feeling is very mutual, Mr. Milazzo,” I bite, leaning forward to press the knife against my throat a little harder. I want to show him I’m not afraid of him, but I know he’d never hurt me.
Scare-tactics is all we will do to one another.
“And I want to know—” he slams the knife back in the case “—How the fuck you’re so good at throwing knives.”
“I’m a natural when it comes to defending myself,” I say nonchalantly.
“Fine,” he finally relents, and I have to stop myself from doing a happy dance. He grabs the knife and hands it to me again, wrapping my fingers gently around the sleek slate-gray handle. “You should have this. You won’t be able to take it to the meeting. They will check us for weapons, but you deserve something to protect yourself with every day and you’re way too fucking good at throwing those things.”
“Honestly, I think it might be luck because I have no idea what I’m doing.”
He roughly takes my chin between his fingers. “You are to listen to me when we are with Bianchi. Do not get sassy. Do not be cute with that smart mouth of yours.”
“I’ll save it just for you.”
“Good girl. I want it reserved for me.” His thumb brushes across my bottom lip. “I’m serious, Rosie. Please, I meant it when I said I can’t lose you.”
“I promise, Ari. I’ll listen.”
“And I’m not trying to silence you. I happen to appreciate your tenacity, but I know Bianchi wouldn’t. I only want you safe.”
“I know,” I nod, understanding him completely. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
He exhales, wrapping his arms around me. “Great. I’m going to have to kill someone, aren’t I?”
I giggle. “Maybe.”
He drifts one hand up my back, cupping my nape. “Where’s the gem, Rosie?”
The question throws me off guard. “I’m not going to give it to you to give to him.”
“That’s fine. I don’t want the damn diamond. I don’t even want to know where it is. The less I know, the better, but he needs to believe that we don’t have it. We will see what he says about your brother and if he brings up the diamond, you mention nothing. You act clueless.”
“But then why did I kill one of his men? Why was I at the club?” I ask him, trying to piece our story together.
“You were there to let off some steam. You were tired of the store, stressed out, and you convinced yourself you needed a break. He came on too strong and you tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen. They don’t have cameras in that back room so they can’t prove anything, but I bet he knows it was you because of witnesses. If anyone saw you go into the room with him—”
“A few did,” I say, shutting my eyes when I realize how stupid I had been. “I’m sorry, Ari. You wouldn’t be in this position because of me.”
“Hey.” His hands grab onto my hips, his fingers biting into a bruise from last night. “I wanted to be in this position, remember? I came to you. I knew what I was getting into. I don’t regret a damn thing, but we are about to walk into my world now. It’s important you listen to me.”
“Your world,” I agree, trying to cover how nervous I am about meeting with Bianchi.
“I don’t like it. I don’t want you to go. I’d rather you stay back with a few of the men, but I know I’ll probably come home to hair removal in my shampoo or something and I don’t have the energy for that level of prank.”
“I would never.” I run my fingers through his thick, dark strands. “I love your hair.”
