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He laughs darkly and whispers,“I’ve got to go. We have dinner reservations with the man himself.”
“Judge Stevenson?”
“Yes. I wonder if his wife, Mary, knows. It was arranged so he can strike a deal with me for our silence. It’s obvious he got nowhere with you, and I received the call a couple of hours ago. He seemed mighty pissed. It was quite amusing, and he demanded a meeting tonight.”
“It’s not like you to give into demands.” I say tartly, and his voice settles over me like a demon’s breath. “Only when it suits me, brother. You should know that more than most. I’m interested in what he wants and prepared to give him nothing. My perfect kind of evening. Enjoy yours.”
He cuts the call and for some reason, it’s as if a huge burden has left me. I can leave that with him and leave the cops to him, which only leaves me with one job to do. The woman currently pampering herself in my apartment.
I turn to Kyle and say with a deep sigh.
“I’m heading off to bed. Tomorrow is another day.”
He nods. “Any instructions?”
“Just sleep, Kyle. Sleep or fuck, I don’t care what you do to relax. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As I leave my right-hand man, I almost envy him his position. He gets to enjoy a certain kind of freedom. I do not. I am part of the well-oiled Vieri machine and there is always something or someone wanting to mess with it.
CHAPTER31
ALLEGRA
I’m relaxed for the first time in forever. As the masseuse rubs oil all over my body, I almost groan with pleasure. I could live like this. Secured away in a penthouse with a wall of menace protecting me. Enjoying sessions like this one and a hot man to fulfill my fantasies.
That is how I view Shade Vieri. He is my dark side. The part of me I hide from respectable people. He pushes me over a cliff every single time and I just pick myself up and run back to the top so he can do it all over again.
I’m not even sure what we have going on. I know I’m only here because of the hatred he has against Judge Stevenson. I can only think of him in that way now. He is no longer family. Not my uncle and definitely not…
“Relax.” The calm voice of Ingrid, the masseuse, chase away my disturbing thoughts and she says softly, “Try to empty your mind. Search for your happy place and hide out there for a while. You are so tense. It’s not good for you.”
She sounds disapproving, and she probably is. My body must resemble a battle scene with all the marks and scratches that decorate it. I’m guessing she’s not shocked, though. She’s probably seen it all before because of the man in charge around here.
Is he my happy place? I certainly can’t stop thinking about him, but it’s with a mixture of helplessness and desire. Hatred and venom. One minute he is everything I ever wanted and the next everything I didn’t want. He is a man of multiple personalities and I never know which one I’m getting.
I kind of like that. Maybe he is my happy place because I can’t stop thinking about him.
I try so hard not to. To think about a life without him where everything is normal. I am successful in public relations. I have my own agency that knocks The Queen off the top spot. I am rich and have a hot boyfriend. An actor perhaps, successful in his own right, or a model. Somebody who adores me. Who makes me happy.Who is boring.
It’s no use. Shade Vieri has crept under my skin and is attacking my immune system from within. He is slowly destroying me, and I don’t have an antidote.
Ingrid steps in and drags my mind back to relaxation and says softly, “I’ll play some music. That may distract you.”
I nod and attempt to clear my mind. It’s easier said than done though because wild dark eyes stare at me from my subconscious. That insanely handsome face with a dark shadow to his jaw, his dark flashing eyes promising to strip me of my dignity. His hair is unruly, much like the man himself, and hangs just above his neckline, wild and unkempt, exactly like him.
That body tempts me every single time, from the tanned skin and rippling muscles, his biceps decorated with tribal ink. He is all man and all-encompassing, and I desire him almost as much as I hate him. What’s that song? I hate myself for loving you. That’s playing on repeat in my mind when he is around. Love may be a strong word to use when it concerns him, but he’s a man who drags out strong words and strong emotions. There really is no other kind where it concerns him.
The hands that push against my skin are now different somehow. Harder, rougher, and less careful. I stiffen as the scent of mischief and my downfall flood my senses and I hate the shiver of desire that passes through me as a husky whisper disturbs my solitude, “Honey, I’m home.”
He drags his rough lips against my neck and bites softly, sucking the skin that apparently exists only for his pleasure.
A brutal man likes brutal pleasure, and he is more deserving of that title than most.
“I thought you were working.” I whisper into the bench I am lying on and he laughs softly. “I decided to work on you instead.”
“Again?” I grin and as his hand runs down my back and dips between my thighs, he says huskily, “You make me a workaholic.”
“Or a sex addict.” I reply as he spins me around and places his finger to his lips. “Shh, you’re meant to be relaxing.”
