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Was she insinuating…
“I didn’t really think. I’ve just been used to wearing what I pleased.” Now that was a truth. “After the flight, you’d saidInside the doors of my home and bed, be my guest—”
“—Feed my twisted mind,”I finished and let a sip of bourbon wash the thirst. “Is that what you are doing?”
Katia’s round eyes widened, and her grip tightened around the brown bag she’d carried inside. As fast as her disbelief flashed through, it left without a sound, but her eyes stormed.
“Then you lied.”
I lied?
Her tongue accused, her eyes believed it, and her body agreed.
I rose leaving my drink behind. My demon demanded blood for such insolence. For such a loose tongue, and confidence to utter such words. With each blinding step, control slipped, reasoning failed, and wrath begged to be set loose. Not once did she cower.
She should bepleading.
The split second I was in reach, my hand rose. Her eyes closed. She didn’t flinch, they just accepted what was to come. It quieted the demon, the need for red, and caused the wrath to settle. I wasn’t a liar. I had given her my word that I wouldn’t mark her skin, and a bruised woman wasn’t what I wanted under my roof.
I didn’t care if she didn’t believe it then, or even now. There were different ways of breaking her.
My hand connected to her jawline, fingers spreading to her nape and cheekbone. Powering over her small frame. I caught the glimpse of her eyes opening, but I watched the pressure my thumb applied as it ran over her lipstick-free and round lips.
“I’ve killed many for less,” my voice warned. “So, explain to me, Katia.” Setting her lips free, I looked down on her. “How am I a liar?”
Katia didn’t hesitate. “When you said Miami was your city, and soon mine. It meant this house too. It meant I could at least roam freely, just as you do, in the walls of this fortress you’ve made.” Her teeth captured her bottom lip, and when she continued, teeth marks imprinted for my gaze to follow. “Without the worry of your men or of what I wore to bed.”
“Soonyours,” I corrected. “We aren’t married, nor have I fucked you yet.”
“You and I both know, the moment I left New York, we might as well have been. The wedding is just a symbol for thefamiglia.”
“And yet, you don’t bear the name Moretti.” I let go of her face.
I could see the lost battle in her gaze, and with a small crease between her brows, her head inched away.
“Then why take my blades?”
There was a part of me that knew they were her false blanket of security while there was another part that knew it and did it regardless. The other part recognized that she was a Vitelli.
“I didn’t. They have just relocated.”
Reason remained weak in me, and I turned before her mouth could revive the demon.
“Leave your electronics on my desk. They’ll be replaced with new ones by lunch tomorrow with our firewalls. Your cabinet is in the far right,” I instructed, and fell back to the chair where my glass rested nearby.
I watched as she did what I’d asked in nothing more but mere lingerie. It shouldn’t be called sleepwear, not when the slightest bending of her frame taunted my dick with the crease of her ass.
Katia worked quietly by the corner. She adjusted the inside of the casing in a particular manner. Fully invested and precisely to her liking. When she had finished, she took a step back to admire the bands before she did something I hadn’t expected. She took a seat behindmydesk.
No one had ever sat there besidesme.
It was a sight that I didn’t like, a sight that bothered me as the head of this syndicate. But as she pulled two rags and the knives out of her bag and spread them above my desk with her hair cascading over her features, bottom lip fixed between her teeth, and tits in display with lace trim, I didn’t mind it enough to ask her to get off my chair.
Taking her time with each knife and dagger, Katia wielded the weapons with ease. Effortlessly, she manipulated the handle to the blade with both hands covered in cloth without dropping one, and her not drawing blood made me wonder how far her expertise reached.
Katia gave up so much in just one night. Their importance to her. Because no one cared this deeply for anything unless it was of value to them. I had taken the hint this morning. And it was just one, a simple butterfly knife.Thiswas hurting her, and she demonstrated it as she polished every single one as if each swipe was a caress, and a goodbye.
One of Katia’s greatest weaknesses were her blades.
