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“I said nothing, douchebag,” I snap.

I can feel my humiliation curdling now. Hardening. Becoming much easier to work with.

Rage. Sweet, sweet, familiar rage.

I draw in a slow, ragged breath before I turn to level a cold look into his face.

“I was trying to make peace with you,” I hiss. “But now?”

Damiano’s expression hardens. “No. How about this. Stay away from me, Bella. I mean it. If you cross my path on a hunt again, it won’t go well for you.”

I stare at him. “So we’re enemies?”

He shrugs. “If you want to call it that.”

The little crack inside me splits wider open. Fine. Fuck him.

“Enemies,” I repeat softly.

“Glad we understand each other,” he says dryly.

He turns and starts back up the path as my heart twists.

“You’re going to regret crossing me!” I yell after him.

“Oh, trust me,” he calls back without stopping. “I already do.”

Yeah, fuck this asshole.

“And I have amazing tits, by the way!” I hurl at his back. “Since you apparently fucking missed them!”

Damiano doesn’t slow at all.

“Good night, Bella.”

I glare after him until he disappears around the bend, my heart crumbling to dust at my feet.

Fine.

Enemies it is.

9

DAMIANO

She does, in fact, have spectacular tits.

I missed that at first, because I was too busy straightening out my room after Hurricane Bella to check my camera.

But I have since remedied that situation. And they are exquisite.

Plump. Full. Perky. Defiant of gravity, with rosy-pink pierced nipples. The fact that the picture in question involved a trademark Bella middle finger in the form of “eat a dick” written on her skin honestly just makes them better.

The tits are one thing, and glorious. But those lips, twisting as her teeth clamp onto the full bottom one?

Fucking hell.

“I’m so glad you called.”