Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“You’re right, flower. I’m a killer like all the other men in your life. That’s what I am.”
“Should I forget about that then? Oh, yeah, my dad was a bastard. He deserved to suffer and I’m not even upset about it. Hell, my brothers did too. Maybe even Perico. They all deserved to die. But why do you think you deserve to live?”
“I fucking don’t,” I snarl and pin her back against the wall. I grab her wrists roughly and hold them up above her head, glaring death. She’s so fucking beautiful in that little navy dress, her tits pressed up, her chest rising and falling with each fearful and rage-filled breath. But above that fear, brighter and harder, is a gorgeous defiance. She doesn’t give a fuck if I’m angry. She’s angry too, because in her mind, I’m the one that took her life away, when it was really the asshole men in her family that used her up, twisted her to ribbons, and spit her back out onto the world like she was nothing.
But to me, she’s everything.
“Then tell me why I shouldn’t get the hell away from you?” she asks softly, mouth hanging open.
“Because I’m the only person on earth that wants to make sure you stay alive.”
“What about my friends, huh? Adrienne? I keep asking you to help her.”
I tighten my grip on her wrists and press my body to hers. I feel her breath on my neck, her breasts against my stomach. “I already sent Giacomo to make sure she’s safe, all right? You fucking happy now?”
She hesitates, frowning. “Really?”
“Really. Last night, after you explained, I got him on our private plane and sent his ass to Los Aneles. He landed and already checked in. Your friend’s alive and fine.”
She takes a deep breath and steadies herself. She didn’t expect that, but fuck her. She thinks she knows what it’s like to live in this family, but she doesn’t have any clue. The pressure, the pain. The constant need to balance the stain on my mortal soul, all the sick sins I’ve committed over the years with the need to make sure my men are safe. With the horrors perpetrated in my name and against the people I love the most, like my dead little brother.
One of my soldiers died today. Tony nearly went with him. And worst of all, Kacia, my wife, this girl who hates me so damn much, she was in the line of fire too.
I can’t handle it. I won’t let it happen again.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t leave, Luca.”
“Because you don’t want to.”
“You have no clue what I want.”
“Yes, I do.” I lean down and bite her lower lip. She glares at me. “You don’t want to leave because you like being with me.”
“Fuck you. I want my old life back. I want my friends. I don’t want to get shot at in the middle of the day. I don’t want to make deals with crime lords.”
“Maybe not, but you don’t want to leave me.”
She glares as emotions flit across her face: defiance, rage, and yeah, beneath it all, pure and dripping lust.
I slam my lips against hers and kiss her nice and hard.
Chapter 19
Kacia
His lips taste like honey and whiskey. I take his kiss and moan into his mouth, and some part of me wants to shove him away, wants to scream, wants to run.
But the louder part of me, the part that’s very much in control, wants to submit to his every whim.
I keep thinking about that attack. Tony saved our lives—without his warning, I’m not sure Luca would’ve gotten us down behind the cars fast enough. But more than that, I’d be a bleeding, glass-cut mess like him if it weren’t for the fact that he shielded me with his body.
He was willing to die to make sure I was safe.
I don’t know what I want. I hate him, but I want him, and the ghosts of my family and my past seem to swirl all around me, filling this beautiful bathroom as he keeps me pinned to the wall, kissing me.
And I keep kissing him back.
He’s right. I don’t want to leave him. I want to get out of here—but I don’t want to go without him, and that’s what scares me the most. I don’t love his family, and I don’t love New York, and I miss my life back in LA, but if he’s serious about protecting my friends—
Where else is there for me?
Above all, no matter what, the thing that keeps me stuck is the way he kisses me.
Like I’m the only person in the world.
And he can’t get enough of me.
It’s in his eyes when I pull back. He stares at me, gaze roaming down my neck to my breasts and back up. There’s lust and desire, but there’s also something else.