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“You expect me to tell you it’s okay?” she asked. The furrow between her brows deepened. “That would be like signing Elio’s death warrant. How can I do that?”
Her breathing was coming faster. She was a doctor; she saved lives. And she took that vow so seriously that she’d saved Aurelio’s life when she’d thought he was just another dangerous criminal. She wore that fastidious manner of hers the same way she did a doctor’s coat, as armor and status symbol all at once. If she stained it with blood on her hands, she’d lose far more than a little dignity.
This weight didn’t belong on her shoulders.
I sighed. There was a surefire way to remove that weight, but man, did it fucking suck.
I wiped every bit of feeling from my face, leaving behind the cold mask of indifference.
“If you haven’t noticed,perla,I’m not asking; I’m telling,” I said dismissively. “You think you have any control over me?” I shook my head and forced a scornful laugh. “I do what I want, when I want. To whomever I want.”
Her teeth released her bottom lip, her arms wrapping more tightly around herself even as she tilted her chin up higher.
“But you knew that about me already. That’s why you despised me from the first moment you saw me, remember? Me standing there, holding a gun to Thompson’s head? I drugged you, kidnapped you. And yet, you honestly think you can stand here and tell me what to do?” I shook my head. “Let me guess, you think you have some magical power over me because I fucked you?”
Her hands had curled like she had claws. She opened her mouth, but I wasn’t about to let her turn this around.
“I’ll give you one thing, though: you were a better fuck than I was expecting. All that prim and proper exterior you wear? Who would have guessed there was such a dirty little slut beneath it?”
I turned to leave, then stopped. I grabbed her arms and pulled her close without looking at her face. No way in hell did I want to see the hurt and anger written there.
She was rigid against me as I delved for her lips, tasting them one last time. Before she could acquiesce or fight, I let her go, looking down at her with a scornful, knowing smile.
And then I left, locking the door behind me.
If ever there was a woman who would hate me to my core, it was this one. But there was also no way she’d be blaming herself for what was about to happen.
Chapter Eighteen
Amadeo
The sun had disappeared below the horizon, painting the sky a dark blue, flecked with thousands of stars. I swear the goddamned sky was mocking me.
“It’s good to see you again, Brute,” I said, holding out my hand to the giant president of the Old Dogs MC. According to Greta, he had a vacation home on Cayuga Lake, about half a mile from where we were now standing.
“You too, my friend.” He shook my hand, then stepped back and shook hands with Vito, Bruno, and Carmine.
“We thought you wouldn’t mind an extra set of hands,” he said, nodding to Leo Luca, who was standing next to Greta. Leo—Raven’s brother and my cousin—was dating Brute’s honorary daughter, so it didn’t surprise me to see the two of them together.
“You’re always welcome, of course,” I said, slap-clapping my cousin on the back.
“Brute says you’ve got an issue with the man inside,” Leo said, nodding in the direction of the blonde woman’s two-story cabin about two hundred yards in front of us, “but you won’t let him torch the place.” His lips quirked in a smile.
“Si, that about sums it up,” I said, not forgetting for a moment Brute’s crazy obsession. The man seriously liked to burn shit down. “Elio Bianchi might have an innocent woman in there with him, and even if he didn’t, I want to see the fucker before he dies.”
“You can see a man just fine when he’s on fire,” Brute muttered good-naturedly.
Greta swatted at him while Vito rolled his eyes next to me.
“Dynamite and Tate are working their way to the back of the cabin,” Brute said, settling down to business. “As soon as they’re in position, they’ll let me know.”
“I appreciate it,amico,”I replied.
Brute had brought along two of his best men, and although the Lucianos hardly needed the help, I wasn’t about to turn it down. It was a strange alliance we’d formed between mafia families and bikers—and even one bad-ass South American cartel—but it worked for us.
I held up a pair of binoculars with night vision for one last look at the target.
There were three men with guns outside the cabin, clear as day. If Bianchi was smart, he’d have at least a few others concealed in the immediate area—those were the ones we’d have to watch out for.
