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Marco shoots me a withering look. “What did I say, Viktor?”
“Be quiet.”
“Exactly.”
The inside of the plane is about what you’d expect from a private jet. Tan, leather seats, the soft whiff of coffee in the air. And hot stewardesses offering us hot towels.
I nod at one of the stewardesses as she walks away from us. “Ever think about cheating on Emilia?”
“Viktor. Shut. Up.”
“I’m just saying.” I slump into my seat, getting comfy for the long flight ahead. “I personally don’t have the desire to cheat on my wife, but I was just curious about you.”
Marco, who’s directly across from me, grabs his gun out and points it at me. “I would never cheat on Emilia. And your marriage is a sham. You forced that poor girl into marrying you.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Gemma always moaned my name whenever I made her come, so I don’t think she was too mad about marrying me.”
And there it goes.
Marco swings his fist, hitting me right in the jaw. My head whips to the side as pain explodes across my face. Ok, I deserved that.
I’m quiet for the rest of the flight, even though all I want is to mock Marco and make him take a swing at me again. The sun is rising when we arrive in LA a few hours later, and Marco immediately takes me to his Spanish style mansion up in the hills. Franco is already waiting for us there.
“How did you get here first?” Marco asks, dragging me by the arm toward the door.
“I guess my private jet is faster than yours.”
I snort. “Guys. Let’s not compare speed here. Everyone knows it’s about the size.” They both shoot me an annoyed look, and I raise my hands in surrender. “Just saying.”
“Get in.” Marco pushes me inside the house.
“Gorgeous place you have here,” I tell him.
Franco cracks his neck and knuckles as he approaches me. “So, when can I start torturing him?”
“I said no torture,” Marco hisses.
Franco levels him a look. “Listen, Marco. I’m going to do this, even if I don’t have your permission. So, let me at him, and you can walk away. No need to stain your hands if you don’t want to.”
Marco pulls himself to his full height and stares Franco down. “Need I remind you, Franco, this is my home. This is my territory. What I say goes.”
“Not on this. Viktor is mine. He attacked my family and territory.”
“Gemma is also my family,” Marco says in a softer voice.
“Not in the way she’s mine,” Viktor growls.
That makes me angry.
I lash out at Franco and manage to swipe my fingernails across his cheek before Marco gets me under control.
“Ok, that’s it.” Marco pulls me against him. “You’re coming with me.”
Franco clutches his face. “Let me at him, Marco.”
Marco sighs, looking between Franco and me. “Wait until morning until he’s sobered at least.”
“Bring it on!” I shout as Marco shoves me into a broom closet. “I’m ready for anything!” Marco shuts the door, locking me in. It’s a tight fit. I can’t even sit down. Ok, then. In a few hours, when I’m no longer drunk, I’m going to be tortured.
