Handing her the glass, our fingers touch briefly, and I watch as a chill sweeps across her skin before she pulls back and raises the glass to her lips. She takes a large sip, and I wait, examining her and needing to read all of what is going on in her beautiful mind. Glancing up at me over the rim of her tumbler, I give her a grin before raising my own glass to my lips.
“I think there is something you should know,” she states, sitting up a little taller in her seat. “I couldn’t give a fuck where my father is. All he ever did was hurt me.”
My blood boils at her comment as I grip the glass tightly in my hand. What the fuck did she just say? Hurt? Because “Big Jim” just bought himself a death fucking sentence with that remark, and I will gladly be the one doing thewet workon that job, no fucking problem at all. No one hurts her and lives. Not anymore.
“Hurt… you?” I grit out as the alcohol travels down my throat with a burn I only wish I was giving her father as I watched him take his last fucking breath.
She shrugs before bringing the glass up to her lips again. “Something like that,” she mutters, as she takes another sip and glances away. “I’m only here because of my mother! I couldn’t care less what is in that notebook. Hell! I don’t even know what all of those addresses are anyways. The only thing I care about is …”
I wait for her to finish, but she never does. Crossing the room, I kneel in front of her and set my glass down on the coffee table. “Mia,” I whisper before seeing her body shake as I place my hand on her knee. Finally, she meets my stare and I see her eyes well up with tears.
“No one gets to put a fucking finger on you and live, not anymore. Not if you don’t want them to. Including me, miAmore.” Her eyes flash with something I can’t quite register before she looks down at my hand on her knee. Without thinking, I pull it back and raise it, proving the point I just made.
She stays silent for a moment, and when she does speak, I know it’s my turn to talk because all she just said was all the truth I am going to get out of her. For now. Maybe I am losing my edge. Maybe she is smarter than I make her out to be. But I take her confession as the truth, and don’t doubt her for a minute before she questions me back.
“How was hurting me…protecting me?” She asks as her bottom lip quivers and my last fucking resolve crumbles at her feet.
Mia
Leonardo’s sigh is heavy as he pushes away from me, picks up his glass and doesn’t take his eyes off my own as he finishes the contents before turning and making his way back to the bar.
“What do you know about what line of work your father was in, Mia?” He asks, slightly angered, as he lifts the bottle of bourbon and pours himself another drink.
“We lived in Vegas,” I shrug. “What else do you do in Vegas? Gamble, Leo. He dealt cards at the Bellagio when I was young. As I got older, he was promoted a few times. Eventually he managed the floor. Why?”
I watch as he shoots back the double shot he just poured with ease before walking around the bar and leaning against it, his glass now forgotten behind him. “And he provided well for you and your mother?”
“Very well,” I respond quickly. “Mom never worked, and we lived in one of the nicest neighborhoods.” I try to fight my irritation but lose as I shake my head and let out a sigh. “Does this interrogation come with any point? Or can I leave? Because I already gave you all the damn information you’ll get from me, and I don’t see where I have anything else to offer you.”
I stand but my eyes catch his before I dare take a step and something in his cocky gaze makes me stop. He grins, and hell if it doesn’t make me start to feel, every fucking thing I was trying so desperately not to feel, since he took away something he could never give back.
His trust.
“I don’t think so,” he says as he pushes off the bar and comes a step closer. “You see, we’re in the middle of the Mediterranean, Mia. And once we hit shore,” he whispers as he brushes my hair back over my shoulder and causes my skin to hum with desire even though I tell it not to. “You’ll be more wanted by the kinds of men you could never even dream about in your worst fucking nightmares. Best I keep you with meAmore, even if I have a feeling you’d happily kill me in my sleep, given any fucking chance.”
He winks, and damn it if it doesn’t just make me want to forget. Forget everything he did, stole, forever took away from me when he drugged me, held me against my will and took away the one thing I never thought I’d be without. My freedom.
“I would find every bit of satisfaction in ruining you,” I hiss out, my obvious desire for him making me choose defense to cope with how all I want to do right now is erase the last day and get myself back to where I was last night. Alone, in a hotel bar. And not wanting anyone or anything to distract me. To get in my way. And to complicate that the only damn reason why I am here in the first place is to make sure that my gut instinct is wrong. That my mother wasn’t in fact murdered by the very man he won’t stop questioning me about. My own fucking father.
He hisses out as he takes a step towards me until I can feel the heat of his body close to my own. His breathing quickens and matches mine as he stares at me and we both refuse to break first.
I know just who the hell I am dealing with. It was evident the moment he put that rag to my face and held me as I fainted in his arms. And I would do anything, anything at all in my power, to make sure the whole fucking world is rid of him and his “family.” Just like my father.
He studies me for a moment, before reaching up and brushing his thumb down my cheek in a way that to anyone else, would make them think he just might have a tender bone in his body. But I’m not buying it. “Something tells me, I would be the one finding satisfaction as you ruin me, Mia.”
Shaking off his advances, I am slightly shocked that he doesn’t grab me back into his embrace and force the issue. But then I remember his comment from earlier and my breathing stills. My body feels void. And I realize his restraint might just be stronger than mine and there is a good possibility I might never feel his touch again.
Finally, my mind realizes his admittance just as he doesn’t miss a beat and continues. “You didn’t think that it was weird that your father was able to afford all he did on a ‘dealers’ salary?” He questions me, as his head cocks to the side.
If he is questioning if I thought my father was involved with the kind of men he runs with daily, yeah I had an idea. And it is exactly why I am here, needing answers, and wanting to make sure my father is put to his death, just like I am positive he sent my mother to an early grave.
“He had connections,” I state firmly, as I fling my hair over the other shoulder and put my hand on my hip. “Much like you, Leonardo. I don’t think I should have to explain much further.”
He smiles, before leaning in closer. “His connections,Amore, have now put a price onyourhead. The one reason I have known your every move since before you even set foot on Italian soil.”
His confession rocks me, but I try to not act phased. “And you’re going to try and tell me that ‘someone,’ whoever they are, sent you to protect me?” I ask as sarcastically as I can.
“No, Mia,” he grates out as he looks to the floor and takes a moment before his icy stare raises to meet my own once more. “I was sent to kill you.”
