Page 60 of Revenge on the Mafia

He brushed a thumb over his mouth and licked his lips. Mine burned. Despite it all, I ached to reach out and touch his lips with the taste of me. His mouth tilted as if he were all too aware of my need.

“Ask me.” His voice was rough. Grated on my skin like sandpaper on velvet. “Ask me why I did it.”

I shook my head. If I tested my voice, it would crack.

He drew a rough breath. His fingers came to my hair. Captured one spiral and curled it around his finger. His look was one of fascination. “I hope you liked it.”

Was he asking me if…

“Your gift.”

What gift?

He released the curl and gripped my neck. Ran his thumb to my pulse beat. “Consider it your engagement gift.” Then he backed off and walked away.

I stared out of the window. I saw nothing.

“Oh, Anna.” Reluctantly, I turned my head to look. He’d stopped at the door. His shoulders were slumped almost in defeat. “Don’t make me do it.”

I stared at him. I couldn’t find my voice to ask him what he meant. Then he said something. An address. I was so numb that it took me a few seconds before the realization dropped like a brick. My heart lurched. He left me gobsmacked on the counter and walked out. I stared at the empty doorway for agonized moments. Then I couldn’t move fast enough. Scampering off the counter, I groped for my phone. Dropped to the floor and hit the button.

“Hola, Anna, I tho—”

“¿Estás bien?”

The line went quiet. “¿Estás bien, estás bien?” I screamed.

“What’s going on. Yes. Yes. I’m okay.”

“¿Estás herida?”

“Anna, what’s going on? I’m not hurt. Are you okay?”

My pressure point snapped. A sob mingled with my words. “¿Estás bien, por favor?”

On the other end, she started crying as well. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I promise.”

I nodded. She was okay. Curling into myself, I clenched my body tightly.

“What’s going on, Anna. Please speak to me.”

I shook my head. She couldn’t see me. ¡Dios mío! But she was okay. “Bad dream.” I lied. “Just a bad dream.”

She sounded doubtful. “Are you sure? You sound—”

“Yes.” I slumped against the counter. “Just a bad dream.”

I wanted to beg her to move. Take Mamá and run. But it wouldn’t matter. He’d find them. Because that address. That was Mara’s. He’d taken away my last shred of hope with it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

NICO

Fuck.

No puedo más.

The idea that she could back out, that she’d said she couldn’t do it anymore, made my heart racket inside. I’d learned to drown my emotions a long time ago. Nothing made my heart race anymore. But somehow, she took hold of my control and flipped it over like a twisted joke.