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"This is a mistake," Liam says bluntly. "Taking her like this will only escalate the war with the other Families. She's a person, Niko."
"Stay out of it," I snap. "She's mine. I paid for her, fair and square."
“What?” Liam looks at Donovan, who shrugs.
“Her father and Tiberius won’t let this go.”
“I know.” The blood is pumping again as I imagine how they’re planning to come after me.
“You're risking everything for some misguided vendetta and a quick fuck?—”
"Watch yourself.” My voice is lethal. The way he sucks in a breath tells me he knows it.
"Alright. I've said my piece.” Liam turns to Donovan. “You know he’s going to get you killed. All of you.”
“It’s what I’ve signed up for.” Donovan, always the jokester.
I give Liam a look that tells him my men know my mission and are all on board. I wish he would be too. It’s not like Liam doesn’t have a beef with the Fiori and Abate Families.
“I’m heading out.” He sets his glass on my bar. “You should think about redoing your will. Your ass is writing checks it can’t cash.” He strides out.
“He’s not necessarily wrong,” Donovan says.
“No. But I’m ready to die as long as I bring those motherfuckers to hell with me.”
Donovan holds up his glass. “To motherfuckers going to hell.”
I lift my glass and drink, then set it down. “Pizza is in the kitchen. I’m heading up to check on my prize.”
I make my way upstairs, surprised when I realize I took two steps at a time. Like I was eager. Excited.
“Everything okay?” I ask my man at the door.
“Quiet.”
“You can take off. I’ve got it from here.”
He nods and heads toward the stairs.
My hand pauses on the doorknob as I wonder what I’ll find. Most women in my life have been easy to figure out. My mother, loving, compassionate, loyal. My sister, sweet, a romantic, innocent. All others want sex and money. Other Families have tried to use their daughters to garner my favor, to which I’ve refused. Women don’t have personal power in my world, but they can be used to ruin the men who control me.
But what is this woman’s story? If she didn’t want to marry Romeo, why didn’t she take my money and run? Why did she even sell her virginity knowing it could cost her life if her father or the Abates found out?
I push the door open but find emptiness. I'm annoyed. Where is she? Why isn’t she waiting?
Then I hear it—the spray of the shower. Images of her naked under a warm spray fill my mind. My dick twitches. This is not welcome. I don't like this feeling, this pull, the way my body responds to the mere thought of her.
I enter the bathroom, the glass shower filled with steam so I can’t see anything but a silhouette of a lovely female form.
I lean against the vanity, arms crossed over my chest, like that will somehow protect me from the way she draws me in.
The shower stops. Moments tick by until finally, the shower door opens. She emerges, and I’m enraptured again by the soft, graceful curves and lines of her body. She’s like a fucking sculpture.
At the sight of me, her eyes widen. She grabs the towel, clutching it to her body.
"Didn't realize you were shy,” I say. “You weren’t at the club.”
A beat passes as she watches me. I can see she’s assessing the situation. Determining whether she’s safe. She draws the towel tighter around her.
