She struggles to extract the phone from the dangling pant leg, and when she finally does, every muscle in her body goes rigid. I glance up. She’s pale as a ghost, eyes locked on the caller ID. With a sigh, I let go of the delicious flesh of her thigh, already knowing this is over. For now.
She doesn’t answer the call but scrambles to her feet, hopping awkwardly on one foot as she turns her jeans right-side out and shoves her leg back in. My knees creak as I get to my feet as well, picking up my jacket from the floor. Her fucking phone won’t shut up. I throw an irritated glance at it and catch a glimpse of the ID:Katie, with a heart emoji in front of the name.
Who the fuck is important enough to make her look like that?
“This didn’t fucking happen,” Emilia says, jabbing a shaky finger at me before marching right out of the supermarket, running a hand through her disheveled hair.
Minutes after she’s gone, I’m still staring at the door, breathing in the lingering scent of her arousal. Then my eyes drift upward to the blinking camera in the corner. I dust off my jacket and shrug it on as I make my way to the back of the store, to the security room where the camera feeds are monitored and stored.
No one sees that private moment but me.
24
RAFAEL
“Tell me you’ve found something,” I say to Enzo when he walks into my office a week later.
I’ve been riding his ass relentlessly about digging deeper into the events leading to Tomassi Rossi’s death—both the real one ten years ago and that elaborate fake bullshit that preceded it. Each passing day without answers feels like another knife twisting in my gut.
The way I see it, the only thing standing between Emilia and me is the lie that I killed her father. If I can get concrete proof that it wasn’t me, surely things will change between us?
There’s also the matter of her betrayal.I shove that small niggling thought aside.
We can talk about that later when things have been sorted between us. That might just be the lust talking.
Hell, who am I kidding? It is the lust talking.
It’s been exactly seven days since our encounter at my supermarket in Little Italy—technically, it’s hers since the deed is in her name, but she doesn’t know that yet.
When I went to delete the security footage afterwards, I couldn’t stand the thought of our moment together beingerased forever. So I saved it to my phone before wiping it from the store’s database.
Fucking mistake.
I’ve watched it more times than I care to admit. And despite my resolve not to, I’ve cum with her name on my tongue several times this past week. The sound of her moans echoing in my ears even when the video is silent. The memory of her taste still lingering on my tongue…
“I haven’t,” Enzo grimaces, his face tight with tension. “But I do have some news you might be pleased with.”
“Out with it then.” I wave an impatient hand, already feeling the familiar spike of irritation.
“We just got a delivery of high-quality Scotch from the councilor, and the delivery man has some interesting information for you.” He steps back to open the door.
A man dressed in a delivery uniform shuffles in, furtively glancing around, shoulders hunched as if expecting a bullet between them at any moment. Then he looks up.
It’s Jason Moore himself.
I frown as I silently dismiss Enzo. “What’s with the subterfuge?” I ask once the door closes behind him.
Jason clears his throat. “I think thepakhanhas his men watching me. I couldn’t risk him finding out I came to see you directly after our phone call. And I didn’t want to call because who knows who might be listening in?”
I watch him settle into the chair across from my desk, his movements jerky with nerves. “What you’re doing is toying with my life, Rafael. I don’t like it, and I won’t forgive you if I die.”
“You’d be dead,” I point out. “Not much use for your forgiveness then.”
He glares at me, anger momentarily overcoming his fear, but then he seems to remember exactly who he’s glaring at andthe anger drains from his face. “I got a call from Sergey this morning. He wants to meet with me.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. I tap my fingers on my desk. “That’s a good development. When?”
“It’s only a good development if I don’t end updead.” Jason’s voice cracks, sweat beading on his forehead. “He’s going to grill me, Rafael. I just know it. I don’t like this. Isn’t there another way we can handle this without using me as bait?”
