Page 33 of Power & Punishment

“Relax,” he says, lifting his hands slowly and playing up his pretend surrender, “and put that thing away. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have made it past your front door. And if I wanted you distracted—” he says, his green eyes trailing up and down my body in a painfully slow way. “—we wouldn’t be talking right now.”

“Answer the fucking question,” I snap.

Leo sighs, disappointed that I’m not playing his sad little flirting game. “You really know how to kill the mood, Emilia. Call me old-fashioned, but I think drop-in visits are romantic.”

“Blackmail isn’t romantic.”

“Mm. You say that,” he replies, his eyes dipping to my lips, “but I bet if I touched your neck right now, I’d feel how fast your heart is pumping.”

I grit my teeth and press the barrel of the gun into his cheek. A sadistic flare takes over his face, and I’m starting to think I’m playing into whatever delusion this man has going on in that thick skull of his.

“Last warning.”

“Fine,” he straightens, placing a hand over the gun and lowering it to my side. I don’t fight him, but I also don’t turn on the safety. “Your super takes brides. Cheap ones, too. You really need to move. This place isn’t safe.”

“Fucking Tim,” I murmur. Maybe I should be pointing this gun at him. I shake my head at the dark thoughts slipping through and click on the safety of my piece before reholstering it. “Get out.”

“That’s not how this works,” he explains, shaking his head. Without the firearm between us, he’s too close. His smoky oak scent bombards my brain, filling up every corner like the annoying human he is. “Your time is up.”

“I texted you,” I say, narrowing my eyes. The second I left Dante’s place, I fired off a text to Leo. I took deadlines seriously—especially when they involved people I cared about. “Dante agreed to meet this weekend at his bar.”

“My phone must’ve died.” He grins.

Lies. A man like him didn’t let his phone die.

“Whatever,” I bite. “I did what you asked, so it’s time to find someone else to terrorize.”

Leo chuckles, and dammit if it isn’t the smoothest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Emilia, you’d have to be scared for me to terrorize you, and I know you’re not scared of me,” he says, taking one finger and gliding it up and down my arm. I shiver, giving him the exact reaction he wants. “No, you’re not scared of me. You hate me. There’s a big difference.”

I step around him, deliberately putting as much space between us as possible. I occupy my hands by reaching for an old water bottle on the counter, but I don’t open it—I just twist the cap back and forth. “I fulfilled my end of the bargain, so we’re done. End of story.”

Leo leans back against the counter and folds his arms. I force myself to ignore the way his shirt stretches tight across his chest. “It’s not that easy. I’m not done with you yet.”

Heat kisses my cheeks, and it takes everything inside me to keep my hands from shaking. Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. The harder I push, the more he pushes back.

A thought flickers inside my brain as I place my water on the counter. It’s dangerous, but fighting him isn’t working.

So instead of backing away, I step closer. I stop just shy of touching him, taking his own tactics and throwing them right back in his face.

His right brow lifts slightly, questioning my change in strategy.

“And what exactly do you want from me, Leo?” I ask, feeling my own devious smile take shape. “I already did what you asked. So, if you’re still here, it’s not business. It’s something else.”

His shoulders stiffen. “You think you have me figured out? That’s cute.”

“Here’s the problem, DeLuca,” I begin, cherishing the way his vein throbs on the side of his forehead. “Vince did exactly what you wanted, and he still ended up dead.”

I pause, letting my fingers brush against the delicate fabric of his white dress shirt. The urge to see it stained with red rises, but I choke it down. “So, tell me. What deal did you have with my brother and how are you going to make sure this next one doesn’t end the same way?”

Leo’s hand comes up fast, catching my wrist before I let my fingers wander more. It’s hard and firm—jolting a sensation of warmth down south. And then he presses his finger right against my pulse point and lets out a restrained breath.

“Your little seduction act fooled me once, but I’m afraid you’ve already played that card. I thought you were smarter than this.”

“What if it’s not an act?” I ask, fluttering my lashes and looking up at him. I find him staring back, and it’s dark enough to send anyone else packing. But not me. Leo DeLuca screwed with the wrong family, and he’s going to feel the pain of that mistake for the rest of his life.

“Then kiss me,” he orders, meeting my challenge with one of his own. It takes everything in me to stand perfectly still and not back down.