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His admission, the way he said it, the fierce protectiveness in his voice has most of the fear vanishing and lust takes its place. There’s still terror simmering under my skin but partnered with the desire I have for Ari at the moment, I shockingly want nothing more than for him to fuck all his anger into me. I want him to take his rage out on me.
Ari helps me to my feet, and I do my best to seem like my legs are shaking.
“Seventy-two hours, Milazzo,” Bianchi reminds us.
“And you’ll be dead,” Ari tells him.
I know he’ll protect me, but the last thing Ari needs is a war with him being so new after taking his brother’s title. It would be a lot of death and I’d feel terrible if it all happened because of me. Would anyone have to die if I just gave the diamond back to Bianchi? Would he forget about us?
Something tells me it wouldn’t matter now. I had my chance to return it and I didn’t. These are the consequences of my actions and I have to live with them.
Ari has a tight hold of my hand as we leave out of the room. He’s practically dragging me down the hall. I’m finally able to breathe clean air and I suck in a deep, relieved breath.
“Ari. Slow down. I can’t walk that fast in these heels.”
Matias is on one side of me, and Gianni is on the other. The rest of the men are hanging back.
“Where is everyone else?” I ask, worried they are trapped.
“Making sure no one follows us,” Matias replies. “They are giving us enough time to leave before they do.”
“Oh.” That makes sense, but even as I turn to look over my shoulder with worry, I don’t see them coming from the back room. I’m scared I won’t ever see any of them again.
“They will be fine.” Matias’s hand falls to the middle of my back. “They are stronger, smarter, and quicker than any of those fuckers in that room. They will come back soon.”
“And the bartender?” I ask out of nowhere. “We need to find him.”
“He gave you up!” Ari hissed the moment we are out the door, nearly slamming into the security guard on the way out. “Fuck no. He can rot in the ground for all I care.”
“He didn’t,” I argue, tugging on Ari’s arm to bring us to a stop in the middle of the parking lot. “He knew it was me back there. My hair being straight didn’t change my appearance that much. He knew it was me and all he had to do was confirm it. He’s probably the reason why I’m still alive right now. And we don’t know if he’ll kill me. He only said I’ll be his. That can mean something else other than death.”
“Alive?” Ari bellows, the echoes of his voice traveling through the night as if we were in a tunnel, the harshness of the passing voices a whip to my skin. “You have a fucking bounty on you. His threat meant death and he was nice about it. You have seventy-two hours before he wants your head. Do you understand that? It doesn’t matter what the bartender said, in the end, you have a death warrant now which would have never happened if he never opened his fucking mouth like a coward,” Ari spits, the anger darkening his cold blue eyes. “We shouldn’t have come here. I’m done playing nice with him. Fuck his alliance. I’ve treaded carefully for you, but no more.”
“The bartender did what anyone would do to survive. You can’t blame him for that.”
“I do and if he were in front of me, I’d kill him myself.”
“I wouldn’t let you.”
“You stubborn, infuriating woman!” he shouts, lacing his hands behind his head.
“You’re a hardheaded, strong-willed asshole!” I yell in return.
His eyes blaze and when he takes a step forward. “Last time I checked, we had an agreement, and you just broke it.” His fingers wrap around my arm and drag me to the nearest car.
“The bartender,” I remind him over my shoulder.
He glares at me before slamming the door in my face so I can’t say another word. My chest rises and falls as the adrenaline, rage, and lust fill my veins. I feel like my body is on fire, tears ready to break over my cheeks, and my heart is hammering beneath my breastbone, thudding hard at the realization that I cursed at him.
That there’s a bounty on my head, that I know even though Ari doesn’t agree with me, he will look for the bartender because I asked.
He’ll do things for me even if he doesn’t agree or like them.
Ari climbs into the car and slams the door. He settles in the seat, spreading his legs to get comfortable, and sucks his tongue over his cheeks in agitation. “Matias will stay behind to look for the bartender, but if he is found, he is going into the basement. I do not trust him.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, keeping my voice light and submissive, wanting him to know how much I appreciate him doing that.
“You and that wicked tongue.” He doesn’t look at me. Ari looks out the window instead, but even from where I am sitting, I can see the vivid color of his eyes reflecting from the glass, glaring at me.
