Page 27 of Fatal Scheme

I’ve developed a deep, emotionally-based relationship with Tyson, our dynamic consisting of trust and acts of service – something else I’m still working on accepting with little to no resistance.

With Jasper, it’s more physical, but equally as strong, even when we’re bickering or threatening each other’s lives, and I’m beginning to see softer sides of him, whether he’s intending to let me that close or not.

One thing’s for certain, I’m finally making choices that benefit me, not the Cassini family as a whole, and it feels good to own the skin I’m living in.

“Carter! There you are. Where the hell have you been?” Ellie asks, darting through the crowd to catch up to me, all heads turning in our direction.

“Sorry, El. I’ve been … busy,” I say, feeling Jasper’s eyes piercing holes through my skin while he waits perched on the hood of his car for me.

“Busy with that?” She nods her head towards Jasper, and I can’t help the girlish smile that cascades across my face.

“And Tyson, his best friend,” I whisper, and her eyes nearly pop out of her head at my confession, a look of pure innocence on her face.

“How does that even … you know what, I don’t want to know. Well, I’m glad you’re happy, but I miss you, roomie,” she laughs, pulling me in for a hug before we get close enough to Jasper, the fear radiating off her as he stares at her with the heat of a thousand suns.

“I’ll come home tomorrow night, I promise!” I call out after her, but just as the words leave my lips, Jasper snakes his arms around me, dragging me back toward his car.

“You will be doing no such thing, my perfect little cuddle bunny. I couldn’t possibly sleep without you,” he groans, kissing my neck as he drops me into the passenger seat.

“I’m not your live-in sex doll, Jasper. I have my own life,” I argue, but he only shakes his head, shutting my door in response.

He’s so stubborn, and loves to bicker with me, but on this, I don’t plan on budging.

Finally having freedom is important to me, and something I’m not giving up, even if it’s minuscule, like spending one or two nights at my own apartment.

“You’re right, Principessina,” he starts, my jaw nearly dropping to the floor as he agrees with me, his hand reaching for mine across the middle console, lacing our fingers together.

“Wait, you’re not going to fight me on this?”

“Nah, I get it. Don’t be surprised if you find me in your bed, though,” he smiles from ear to ear, something I’ve come to learn he only does when he’s being genuine.

“It’d be more likely that I catch you sniffing around my panty drawer, Stalker Boy,” I tease, calling back to when he broke into my apartment, something I don’t plan on letting go of.

Before he can fire back at me, his phone rings, the name flashing across the CarPlay screen indicating that it’s his father, and I hold my breath, realizing that this is the first time he’s gotten a call from the Don while I’m present.

Before I can even wonder if he’s going to answer, or overanalyze if he’s comfortable enough to speak freely around me, he presses the green button, the sound of his father’s voice echoing around the car.

It’s our first test of trust, and to my complete surprise, he sees no issue in unloading the dirty laundry in my presence, but even so, I hold my breath, afraid that any reaction on my face will clue him into the web of lies I’ve intricately woven to hide my interest in his Family.

“Dad,” Jasper sighs, squeezing my hand a little tighter as we park outside the house, a vein popping out of his temple.

Clearly, his dad is a stress trigger for him, and I instinctively climb over the console, sliding into his lap to offer comfort – something I never anticipated being a priority when I first marked him as my target.

He immediately wraps his arms around mid section, my head resting perfectly against his chest, his heart thrashing wildly as his father begins to speak.

“Son, we have new intel, where’s Tyson?” He asks, his voice gruff and short, like talking to his child is a chore, something I know all too well.

It’s not easy being the kid of a mafia Don, their requests always being demands, and the job we’re trained for isn’t easy in the slightest.

Our parents don’t love us, not in the ways average kids experience, only raising us to be cold-blooded killers, assassins, and eventual leaders to command the start of a new cycle.

“I’ll be with him soon. What’s going on?” He tenses, a deep sigh coming from his chest, and I feel so much empathy for him at this moment, all I want to do is help.

Wrapping one hand around his throat, I tilt his head to the side, trailing my tongue along the column of his neck, sucking on his pulse point while his hands grip my hips.

“A new player has teamed up with the Ricci’s, and they’re growing in numbers as the days pass. Two more men turned up dead this morning, over by the loading docks. If they get into our shipment routes, we’re done for,” Jasper’s father says, and I feel his breathing intensify, but he doesn’t push me off as I continue to leave love bites on his skin.

“I know, Dad. We won’t let that happen. We still have majority control over all our interests, and nobody has come on my side of town. Tyson did patrols and check-ins all morning with no reports,” he offers, and his dad pauses, likely absorbing his information.