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‘So truce?”
I tease the tip of the blade under his chin and a feral want grips his eyes. “Not on your life, Mr. Milazzo.”
“Ari.”
I pout when I hear Matias’s voice and drop the knife, the fun coming to an end.
“Your timing is impeccable, brother, and I mean that with all the sarcasm I can muster.”
“Sorry. I wanted you to know the body was taken care of.”
The reminder of the nurse’s body has fear crashing over me like ice-cold water. On the inside I’m shivering, afraid, and wondering what the hell I’m going to do tomorrow when I step foot in Ari’s world.
On the outside, I have to look like I know what I’m doing. I have to look at the part.
And if there is one thing I know I’m good at, it’s bottling up everything I feel in order to make it another day.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ari
My wife is the aftertaste of really good whiskey. She burns, warming you from the inside out. There’s the dizziness that accompanies after too much has been had, but it feels good. She feels good, but she’s an acquired taste.
People who can’t handle her will be hungover the next day. She’s too strong for the likes of weak and inferior people.
She’s made for men who enjoy the pain of the burn because it’s the only way to survive the fire she breathes.
Rosie rolls onto her side, facing me, her curls an absolute mess, and there’s a wrinkle from the pillowcase indented in her cheek. She sleeps hard, but I haven’t been able to rest all night. Every move she made; I was worried someone was here to pry her from my arms.
Today is the day we meet Bianchi and I’ve never been more nervous in my entire life. I roll out of bed without disturbing her, sliding on my sweatpants.
She mumbles, rolling to my side of the bed to snag my pillow. She holds it to her chest, and I grin.
She likes me.
And one day, I’m going to get her to love me.
I do my business in the bathroom, wash my hands, and head to the kitchen. Immediately, I smell the espresso machine and Matias standing there while he makes his latte.
“Good morning. Make me one too?”
“Fuck no. Make it yourself and don’t pull that authority on me either.”
“Fine,” I yawn, knowing he wouldn’t talk to me like that if anyone else was around. “Where is everyone?”
“Making rounds, gathering the payments from the strip.”
“Any issues?” I ask, remembering what happened last week.
“Not yet. Everyone has paid. Gianni is worried about a casino but nothing he can’t handle while we deal with Bianchi.”
“I want to get this over with,” I grumble, running my hands through my hair. “I need to get Bianchi away from Rosie so we can move on.”
“You like her, then?” Matias asks, sliding me a mug so I can prepare my own latte.
“Like her? You could say that.” I more than like her. I’m absolutely obsessed with her.
“Because if you don’t want her, I think she’s amazing and I’d love to—”
