Page 114 of A New Days Don

“Let’s make this quick. Giordano has prepped the samples on Alverez and the maid. I want to get those off and analyzed sooner rather than later.” Not to mention, I was almost through decoding the encrypted thumb drive when I was called out to search for Jazzy. Something tells me what I’m going to find on that drive will be important in solving what the fuck is going on in Sin City.

I park the car right on the street, leaving it in idle. A few drivers honk angrily on their horns, and a few shout out their windows at me to move, but the glare I shoot them and the peek of my gun silences them.

Yeah. That’s what I fucking thought.

“Scout around the building. If Jazzy is here, I doubt she’s gone inside.” The last thing these bars want is for hookers, or in Jazzy’s case, ex-hookers, mulling about. Not that it stops them from walking the streets.

Raphael rounds the corner, but the second I set foot into the alley, I shout for him. There, behind a dumpster, is a woman. Sickly pale skin, blood dripping off her fingers, and a torn dress. Her dead eyes stare in horror towards the grated stairs. Unlike the other victims, she has been shot clean through her temple. The blood blends with her red hair, but the clumps of grey matter make it obvious this was a quick death.

“Fuck,” Raph grunts.

“Grab a bag from the car. I’m not hauling her to the lab like this.”

Raphael comes back a moment later, and we carefully pack Jazzy into the black bag. I note the various fight wounds, though it seems the unknown subject didn’t give her much chance to fight him off before he shot her. The man has become frantic. He’s rapidly trying to clean up loose ends, and even though Jazzy hasn’t witnessed him in the act, she has been keeping track of most of the women who have gone abruptly missing. She knows the count, and her being alive telling Mila what she knows is more than enough.

“Load her in the trunk.” Driving the SUV should make it easier to get her body in there, but it won’t be as respectful as an ambulance or hearse.

My phone vibrates in my pocket before I can exit the alley.

I don’t even need to tell him her status. If he’s meeting me at the lab, he knows she’s been killed.

Chapter 46

Massimo

I trace my hand down the curve of Mila’s hip. She passed out after the fourth time we fucked right here on the sofa of my condo. We were about to head out for the evening and catch up with Ren and Raphael, but she made the mistake of coming out dressed in my dress shirt—not that she had much of a choice, but I digress.

I can’t get enough of her.

I shouldn’t be filling her with cum, not while her womb isn’t protected, but filling her to the brim, watching my cum pool out, and pushing it back into her is something I can’t resist. Let her fucking swell with my child. My woman is full of our growing love. My daughter or son loved and protected inside of her. I fucking want it, but more than that, I want to see Mila happy and at peace.

My phone vibrates from the corner table.

I can practically hear the knowing smirk on his face through the text, and I want to tear it off him. Just knowing he’s thinking of Mila like that is enough to infuriate me.

I open my conversation with Anita.

Turning my phone off, I pull Mila into my arms, bringing her back to my room. I gently lay Mila back on my bed, her petite, pale body curls as she seeks out my pillow.

So, fucking adorable.

I head for the bathroom to grab a warm, damp towel and return to Mila so I can gently clean her body as best this small towel can. She mewls as I slowly pat between her thighs, clearly sore, and her bright red ass cheeks are swollen from the beating she took. My woman likes her pain enough to make her drippy for me.

When I’m done, I toss the towel into the hamper near the bed and slide in beside her, pulling her into me. Her body slots perfectly with me. Her sweet and tangy scent coats my skin, making it easy for sleep to pull me under to the beat of her heart against mine.

Morning comes all too quickly. The last thing I want to do is ruin this perfect little bubble that Mila and I have constructed. Where only she and I exist, and all the troubles awaiting us are insignificant. But when Mila rolls over, wincing as she sits up, I am beside her in an instant.

She has a little bruising on her ass from where she careened for more spanks, but I can’t say I hate it. She looks fucking delicious with my marks on her. My fingers gently skim the light bruising on her shoulder. The exact spot I sank my teeth into while I came inside her for the third time.

“Should I…” Mila pauses, “Should I be going to the pharmacy?”

Those innocent blue eyes meet mine with a mix of trust and uncertainty.

Why would she need medicine? Is she sick?

Did we go too hard last night?

Fuck.