Killing Me Softly: A Romantic Suspense Anthology, page 137
Going to the window, I open the blinds. Just like my father’s men, some stay near the entrance, their guns on display. Farther out, there is a large metal gate with many men keeping watch.
Luca
I sit in my father’s office, along with him, our concierge, and my cousin Pauly. I’m having a hard time focusing, something that never happens. But all I can think about is how Aly’s fingers raked across my skull and how her pussy clenched my tongue as I gave her a taste of what’s to come.
“Send Mancini a wedding invite dated a month from now,” I say, trying to push thoughts of Aly away for business.
“I thought it was next week,” my dumbass cousin retorts.
“Follow it up with an engagement party two weeks from now. He’ll make his play then.” By then I will have Aly firmly on my side, and when I parade her around, she will fully be mine, her father no longer in her thoughts. She will choose me over him, and I’ll get to watch it gut him. Then while he’s weak, we can take over.
“Who are we inviting?” my father asks.
“All of the families,” I reply, and my father seems to fight off a smile. For once, I think he may be proud.
He nods. “After the party, you will be made,” he says, referring to me becoming a made man. That title alone makes me unstoppable. It gives me the license to do whatever the fuck I want. I’ll be able to rise through the ranks and take my father’s position when the time naturally comes.
“How do we know they’ll even show?” Pauly questions with a half chuckle, as if he doesn’t think they’ll do as I predict. I have to refrain from pulling my gun on him. I have no idea how he’s lived this long with his simple way of thinking.
“Mancini will use this as his opportunity to assassinate me and take his baby girl. The other families will simply want to watch and see who comes out on top. They’ll want to find out which one of us is weak.”
“We’ll be ready for him,” my father adds, backing me up. Standing up, I take the three steps toward him. Picking up his hand, I kiss it. My father is the smartest man I’ve ever met. He is the most respected as well.
My cousin follows on my heels, our shoes slapping against the tile floor until we reach outside.
“Hey, Smiley,” he calls for my attention, using my nickname. Turning, I wait for him to continue. “I got a date this weekend, but she won’t come unless her friend comes. How about you relax for once and get some tension off those shoulders.”
Stepping into him, I say, “Are you fucking crazy? I’m about to be married, and you’re asking if I want to go out on a date?” My hands curl into the jacket of his suit.
“I just thought you might want a night out. Didn’t realize you liked the enemy’s pussy.”
My instinct is to pick up my gun. One hand uncurls from his jacket, moving to tighten around my gun, and I lift it to hold to his head.
“I’m your cousin, Smiley. We’re family,” he tries to remind me. Coward.
Never beg for your life. It shows weakness and makes me want to kill you more.
Instead, with my left hand, I punch him in the nose. I can hear the crack accompanied by the pressure hitting my knuckles.
“Don’t disrespect my woman. Next time, I’ll kill you, family or not.”
He falls to the ground holding his face as blood gushes out. For good measure, I give him a kick to the stomach. “Be a man and clean up the blood without crying.”
Tilting my head up, I see her beautiful face. She doesn’t hide behind the curtains as I glare up at her. Instead, our eyes stay glued to each other’s. The windows are soundproof, making it impossible for her to have heard anything I said.
My driver along with three bodyguards hop into my car along with me. I have a bigger target than normal on me now.
“Where are we headed?” I’m asked once I sit in the passenger seat.
“I need to buy some flowers.” If my answer shocks them, they show no sign. “Hey, Vinny.” I ask one of my bodyguards in the back, “What type of flowers does your wife like?”
“She likes the ones that come from me,” he says cockily, busting my balls. Vinny and I grew up together. He’s not Italian, but he’s as close to me as my own family.
“Is this the part when you tell me to stay away from her?” I turn toward the back seat, showing him my smirk.
“If I had to, she wouldn’t be mine.” Truer words have never been said. “Sunflowers are her favorite. She hates roses,” he answers my question. My initial instinct was roses. They’re a classic but as uncreative as my dating life. That’s the problem—I don’t date. I don’t buy flowers. I have no idea how to do this.
“Forget it. Turn around,” I say to my driver, changing my mind.
“You scared of a little flower?” Vinny questions. My other two bodyguards are silent. If anyone other than Vinny questioned me, they’d have their nose broken like Pauly. But I respect his opinion. He’s as close to a concierge as I have. He would have made it up higher in the family if he had the right type of blood flowing in his veins. The family’s loss is my gain.
The driver begins to turn.
“What the hell are you doing?” I holler.
Vinny holds in his snicker, and we remain silent for the rest of the drive to the florist. I make my men hold the sunflowers, scared I might catch some feelings. I will be the ruin of Aly eventually.
16
Luca
Opening the door, I find Aly sitting on the bed.
“You’re late,” she states, already like an old lady.
“I’m never late,” I counter. She stands, and I hate everything she’s wearing. She’s hot as hell, but I prefer her in a tight pencil skirt and glasses. I like the nerd thing she normally has going on.
“Do you have contacts in?” I question, closing the door behind me. I’m about to fire the person who messed up my instructions.
“No,” she answers, confused.
“Where are your glasses?” I swear I had a pair brought in here.
She has the nerve to roll her eyes at me. “I wear fake glasses. It’s all part of my image,” she says proudly.
I scoff. “Your madam days are over. I will not have a wife who is an escort.”
“I’m not an escort.”
I watch as her spine goes straight, and I swear her nails turn into tiny claws. My flowers hit my leg, reminding me I’m still holding them. Pushing them into her chest, I announce, “These are for you. Don’t make me regret it.”
“How romantic. Maybe you should have started with these, then kept your mouth closed. Practice what you preach, right?”
In one step, I’m crowding her space. No one disrespects me. She doesn’t cower like my cousin. No, she sticks her chin out in defiance. I wrap an arm around her waist, bringing her in. Her heart pounds against my chest. She’s frightened. Good. She’s trying to even her breathing by stopping altogether. I can see the fear and courage fighting in her eyes.
“Disrespect me again, and I will bend you over my knee. I’ll spank you until your ass is red with my handprint, then I will fuck you into submission. Understood?” My cock becomes a steel rod just thinking about fucking that tight pussy of hers. For good measure, I shift my hips into her, wanting to see how she reacts to me. Leaning close to her ear, I allow my lips to touch her lobe. “And when I fuck you, you’ll be so wet for me I’ll just slide right in. You may pretend you’re this meek, innocent girl, but I see you. You like the challenge, and you like it when I talk to you like this.”
The sound of her swallowing echoes between us.
Testing how far she’ll let me go, I cup her sex. “If I dipped my finger in here, would I find you already wet?” I kiss down her throat, enjoying the way it pulses against my lips. I unfasten her button, and I slip my hand into her panties. Just as I thought, she’s already wet for me. Sinking in two fingers, I tease her. Her hips struggle not to rock with my rhythm. I watch the hostility leave her eyes, and she gives in to me. Instead of bringing her to climax, I remove my hand to taste her on my fingers. Her eyes go wide, watching my movements.
“You have a minute to put yourself together. I don’t want my men to see you all flushed, looking like you want to get fucked.”
I turn my back, afraid she’ll see the real me. My heart is pounding as fast as hers. She’s changing me, and I hate every second of it. It makes me weak. If I can’t focus, I will miss things. Missing shit makes me a dead man.
A frustrated growl leaves her pink lips. I’m pretty sure she called me “asshole” under her breath. I’m still trying to get my heart to slow down. I’ll let her get away with it this time, because I’m preoccupied. And this is how it starts. I’m losing myself.
I need my shooting range to calm my heart. My blood flows violently through my veins with no outlet.
I grab her hand from behind me and yank her out of the room. She has to take two steps for each of mine. She’s running to keep up with my quick strides. I expect her to complain or ask where we’re going, but she stays silent.
I’m teetering on a very dangerous edge, and I wonder if she realizes this. I don’t even fully comprehend why. This is her fault. Leaving the house, my men match my pace. I shake them off, telling them I’m not leaving the compound. I keep walking to the very back of the property.
When we reach the outdoor shooting range, Vinny appears out of nowhere carrying my guns for me. He’s the best at what he does. I pick up my favorite sniper rifle. Using the scope, I set my sight on my target. Like the funny man he is, there is a picture of a sunflower as the target’s bullseye.
Aly observes us, her eyes shifting between Vinny and me. Recognition of what Vinny has done takes root, and she dares to start laughing. “I like you.” She smiles at him, her beautiful eyes tearing up and beginning to leak because she’s laughing so hard.
“Get the hell out of here,” I shout at Vinny. He begins walking away, and I aim my gun, giving him a warning shot. It whizzes right past his ear but doesn’t touch him. That gets his ass moving. He starts running, and I shoot again. This time, it grazes his arm, and I listen to her gasp. It’s hardly a wound. Nothing a little Band-Aid won’t fix. When I turn back to Aly, she’s no longer laughing. She stands still in shock.
“Come on,” I tell her, grabbing her hand to pull her along once again.
I bring her to the bottom of my favorite station. It’s high up in the trees with a tiny wooden platform.
“You good with heights?” I question as I place the strap of the rifle on, so it hangs on my back.
“I doubt I have much of a choice.”
“True,” I agree as I begin to climb up the nailed-in wood blocks that act as steps.
Once we both reach the top, we take a seat in the now crowded enclosure. Her arm pushes against mine in the tiny space I have. I’m used to having to shoot from small places people would never think of. She sits so her back rests against my legs, as her shoulders twist so she can look at me. I like that she doesn’t try to hide herself. But in this small area, it’s impossible.
Taking the gun from my back, I bring it to my front and offer it to her. She tilts her head cautiously before I can see her mind run wild. “I can pull out my other gun and press the trigger before you could pull yours. And that’s assuming you don’t miss.” Pausing, I add, “I never miss.”
“Then why hand me the gun at all?” It seems like a genuine question. I can understand where she’s coming from. We’ve been born to think we’re each other’s enemy. Even with her not a part of her mob family, looks can be deceiving. She was always in the family. She just never realized it. She was still brought up with the same values I was. We just happen to be on opposite sides. But not for long.
“My wife needs to learn how to protect herself. Being able to shoot can determine whether you live or die.”
She takes the gun off my hands, her fingers sweeping past mine. I expect them to tremble, but they’re steady.
“I think you forget that I’m a madam and can already handle myself.”
“You are not a madam,” I grit out, hating that she even calls herself that. “And I protected you. You never had to learn to handle yourself.”
“Honestly, I think you had a little too much creative power over this fantasy you have of us. You think you know me, but the truth of the matter is no one really does. Not you, not my father, no one. I don’t even have a best friend. No one.”
She brings up the rifle, resting it on the small wooden block I have set up for myself, and she fires the gun. Her body naturally absorbs the kick, and it’s sexier than hell. Using my binoculars, I see she hit the target. Nowhere close to the bull’s eye, but better than I anticipated.
“You’re mistaken. I’m the closest thing you have to a best friend. And I saved your life by stealing you away.”
Turning her head toward me, she arches her thin brow. I make sure to give her my arrogant grin before she goes back to concentrating on the gun. She reloads the rifle all by herself. I’m impressed.
“But is it really stealing when you have always been mine? Marrying Coy would have killed you inside. Do you honestly think he would let his wife be an escort?” I ask to keep annoying her. I realize I enjoy seeing how she reacts to my comments.
“For the last time, I’m not an escort. People respect me in my line of business.”
“That’s because they’re hoping to get a piece of your ass. I’m the one who kept everyone in line for you. But now it’s time you stop playing around and become my wife.”
“I will never marry you. My father will kill you before it ever comes to that.” She sounds confident in herself, her words grating on my patience. I have shown her too much mercy in the way she speaks to me.
“Oh, you will marry me. If you’re not careful, it will be your father who is killed, not me.”
The sassy smile disappears from her face. About time she takes me seriously.
I take the rifle from her and don’t bother taking my time to line it up with the target. I’ve practiced so many times I could hit the bull’s eye in my sleep. Staring at her, so she realizes what a perfect shot I am, I pull the trigger. I hand the binoculars to her and smile, watching her mouth drop open when she sees I hit it dead center. I never miss.
“I should have let my father deal with you when we first met,” she says on a sigh, like that would have stopped how her future played out.
“But then you would have missed out on the love of your life.” I shrug, watching her roll her eyes while scoffing. “Why didn’t you ever rat me out?” I have often wondered. I would have been a dead man. I was too inexperienced back then.
“It was your eyes,” she says after a short moment of silence. She has my attention. She shouldn’t, but I’m more than curious right now. “I saw warmth in them. And I knew immediately you would never hurt me. So, I guess I decided to do what the old saying said. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer. I must have succeeded, since you think you’re my best friend.”
“Tell me then, who is your best friend?”
“I never had time for one of those. Most women wouldn’t let their children play with me. They felt like they were choosing my mother over the Don, and that was too big of a risk. You see, it was my mother who chose not to accept his money, not the other way around. People didn’t see that, and he allowed that to be her punishment.” She’s deep in thought, her forehead furrowed. Moving her hands in front of her as if getting rid of the bad air, she places a fake smile on her face.
“Don’t do that,” I tell her softly.
“Do what?”
“Pretend with me. I will always know when you’re lying, even by omission. So don’t pretend to be happy on my account. I can see that it hurt you.”
“I suppose it does sting a bit. I honestly try not to think about it. I sound greedy even to my own ears. I was given every opportunity. I never lacked anything, and I felt loved by my mother. I’ve seen that some people have it harder than me.”
I stare down at her lips, and I want to sample them so badly. She has this draw that I’ve never been able to escape. But I can’t let her see the power she has over me. It will ruin everything I have worked for.
I place the gun back in her hands. “Try again,” I demand forcefully, severing the invisible truce we had.
17
Aly
For a second, I thought we had a moment. I saw a glimpse of the old Luca who I originally met. But I was a young girl who was fascinated with the thought of having a crush on the enemy next door. I looked forward to the nights he snuck into my house. He was one of the rare people to treat me like I existed. He took time to check in on me, and each time he did, he placed himself in danger. Now, to think back on this, it all seems silly. I’m able to recognize others who did similar things, but I never gave them the credit.
Holding the gun up, I take my aim once again. His blue eyes never leave me, and his unique scent surrounding us causes my attention to be divided. His chest is against my back before his arms wrap around me, repositioning the gun. One hand covers mine, both our fingers hovering over the trigger.
“You need to steady your breathing.” His voice is a low rumble. I try to by holding my breath then letting it out slowly. All of a sudden, I sound like the noisiest breather on the planet. It’s all I can hear with him this close to me. “Don’t stop breathing.” His hot breath washes over my neck. “You need to learn to control your feelings, push everything away so the only thing in your vision and mind is that target.”
Focusing on my breathing, I try to ignore that he’s enveloped me with his entire body. It’s like I’m wrapped in a blanket of Luca. The gun stops its slight vibration as I do as instructed. My finger presses down on the trigger as his hand slides up my torso. It throws off my focus. I don’t even hear the shot hitting the target.
