AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Dead? You mean, like Dave and Shelley? My friends. Is that your solution to everything? Shoot and kill. And your problems just…disappear?”
She doesn’t sound comforted.
I draw my brows together. “Yes.”
Laughter slips out of her; only, the sound is wrong. Not joyful, but hovering on the edge of hysteria.
“I am not in the habit of killing innocent people, Bianca.”
She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times. “And yet, my friendswereinnocent.”
Her voice is a whisper, almost not there at all.
I resist the urge to say more on the matter, instead pulling out my phone and punching in a number. I do not need to justify myself to anyone, let alone a Carlotti.
“Get dressed. You have five minutes, or I come in there and dress you myself, and if I have to do that, you will not like it.” I raise the phone to my ear and turn away from her in dismissal.
* * *
Bree/Bianca
The dress is black.Long and sleek and figure-hugging, with tiny spaghetti straps that probably won’t do much to hold up my cleavage, even though I’m relatively flat-chested.
The organized crime lords like their women beautiful and sexy and dressed up, or so the media would have us all believe. Trophy women, on the arms of their powerful men.
This dress will qualify, but I’m sure my swollen cheek won’t fit in with the look. Especially without makeup to cover the bruising.
Five minutes doesn’t give me time to do anything more than rush into the bathroom, run a brush through my hair to tidy up, and then clasp it back at the nape of my neck with a jeweled clip I find in the top drawer of the cabinet. If those are real diamonds, then I’ve probably got more dollar value sitting in my hair right now than the average house.
I then race back out to unzip the garment bag and don the set of lacy black underwear I find inside before pulling on the dress.
Creepily, it all fits perfectly, even the set of heels for my larger-than-average feet. Almost like they knew I was coming and prepared everything beforehand.
There was a look in Rio’s eye that said I’d pushed him too far out in the hallway, and I don’t want to risk punishment if I disobey him yet again.
The man who hurt you will likely already be dead.
My hands tremble so hard I can’t zip up the damn dress. I wish the housekeeper had come back, but Rio probably dismissed her for the night.
Five minutes to the second after I reentered the suite—I know because I’m watching the clock above a small desk in the corner of the lounge area—he opens the door and strides in.
I turn my back to him, silently requesting his assistance with the zipper.
Moments later, the touch of his fingertips on the skin of my lower back, where the zipper starts, sends tendrils of warmth through me. A shiver rushes up my spine from the connection.
My mouth tightens. He’s a monster. His touch shouldn’t have any effect on me except revulsion.
“Come,” is all he says, when my dress is fastened and I turn back to face him.
There is no emotion in his expression.Nothingis readable in his eyes.
He leads the way out, this time to the elevator, where he punches the button without comment.
It isn’t until we are in the car, descending, that he deigns to look at me via our reflections in the mirrors lining the walls. “I made a call. Your friends are alive.”
Alive? Dave and Shelley aren’t dead?
“Oh, my God.” I didn’t realize how much I was holding in until this moment. I sag back against the wall of the car, tears pricking at my eyes. “I thought… I mean, I heard your guyshootthem.”
