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“What do you want with her?” Benji asks suspiciously.
The man in red ignores his question and stares at me menacingly. “You really don’t remember me,bambina?”
Now that I get a good look at his face, hedoeslook familiar.
“Where have I met you before?” I whisper.
He smiles the kind of smile I’ve only seen from serial killers and psychopaths. It’s unnerving.
The man moves his gun from Benji’s chest, only to use it to scratch at his stubbly chin. “A year ago, you made a deal with my boss.” My spine stiffens. “He would give you money to buy a piano, and in return, you would pay back every dime he loaned you, plus interest. You remember, no?”
I do remember. And now I feel like I’m going to faint.
Benji lowers his gun from the man and whirls on me. “What the hell is he talking about, Maya?” he spits at me.
Tears fill my eyes as I stare at the man in red. “I didn’t know it was him,” I whisper. I look at Benji. “I didn’t know Dom Carlo loaned me the money. Please, Benji, you have to believe me.”
Benji shakes his head. “I don’t have to do shit.”
“I swear I didn’t know it was him,” I say again, louder this time.
“My, my, my,” the man in red says quietly. “This is quite the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into,bambina.”
I glare at him, angry tears burning my eyes. “Don’t fucking call me that! Obviously, if I had known Dom was the one who loaned me the money, I wouldn’t have even bothered. Don’t youdareturn this around on me.”
The man just laughs maniacally. I look at Benji, pleading. “Benji,please, let me explain—”
“Explain what?”
I freeze. I didn’t realize the front door was still open. Ezra’s standing there, right behind the man in red with a gun trained at the back of his head.
“Ezra,” I breathe. He’s covered in blood. Rich, thick, dark blood that accentuates the dark brown of his skin. Even covered in it, he still looks breathtaking.
Ezra takes a step forward, gun inching closer to the back of the man’s head. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is, I’ve come to collect what belongs to me.”
That voice. I would never in my life forget the sound of that voice. Like the richness of the blood he loves to shed so much, that Italian accent sends a shiver down my spine.
When I look over Ezra’s shoulder, my stomach drops.
There, standing just outside the front door with a self-righteous smile plastered on his beautifully cruel face, is Dom Carlo himself.
CHAPTERFORTY-THREE
MAYA
“You,”I whisper, taking a step back. “You found me.”
Dom Carlo smirks, his handsome face alight with mischief. “I did.”
I’d almost forgotten what he looked like. His features are rugged and rough-hewn. Thick, curly brown hair. Sharp cheekbones. Plush lips. Piercing green eyes blazing with amusement beneath thick brown lashes. I’m instantly taken back to that day, back to the day that’s now screwing me this very moment.
I shake my head, try to clear the frantic, racing thoughts. He can’t be here. He can’t possibly be here right now.
But he is.
And he’s looking at me like I’m his next meal.
