Page 64 of Forgotten Deal

I turn on the shower to let the water heat up before stripping out of my clothes and stepping under the spray. Closing my eyes, I pretend today was just a bad dream, and that I’m going to wake up in Fabio’s arms with the sound of the waves crashing in the background.

No such luck when I open my eyes. I don’t know if Fabio knew of my call to the carpet; I need to talk to him. Romeo suspected the worst of me, but he doesn’t know me. Not like Fabio does.

I step out of the shower and dry off, throwing on a comfy tee and lounge pants. Walking downstairs, I round the corner of the hallway and squeal. “Shit, Fabio. You scared?—”

Fabio rushes me, placing his big hand around my neck as he slams me against the wall, knocking the wind out of me. “You thought you could play games with me, Katerina?” he grits.

“No!” I try to pry his hand away from my neck, but it’s no use; the man has a firm grip around my throat. He demonstrates that by squeezing harder, rage and something else swirling in his eyes. “Fabio, I swear!” I wheeze, starting to feel lightheaded.

He loosens his grip just enough to where I don’t pass out, dragging me to the couch. Tossing me on it, he takes a seat next to me.

Placing my hands over my neck, I take in rapid breaths, feeling like my heart’s going to beat right out of my chest. Something catches the corner of my eye; there’s a shot glass on the table filled with red liquid.

“Drink,” Fabio orders, picking up the shot and shoving it in my face.

“What’s in it?” I ask, my voice sounding scratchy.

“Drink, or I’ll force it down your throat,” he menaces. The sweet and playful Fabio I bared my body and soul to this weekend is gone; replaced by this hard family man. But of course that’s who he is; foolish of me to have thought otherwise.

I take the shot glass from his trembling hand and bring it up to my nose, giving it a sniff. It smells like wine.

Fabio moves lightning-fast, forcing my jaw open with one hand as he moves my other hand up with the shot glass. I nearly choke as the liquid burns on the way down. “Malákas.” I cough violently. “What was in it?”

He doesn’t answer; watching me intently. My head’s starting to feel fuzzy—like I’ve got a few mimosas under my belt. “Remember you asked about my street name?” Fabio quietly says. “I’m known as Venom. Granted, it’s a misnomer. Venom is injected directly by the animal; poison is delivered indirectly—by touch or ingestion.” He glances at the empty shot glass.

My eyes wide with horror, I sputter, “Did you just poison me?”

His lips curl into a predatory smile. “There’s an art form to poisoning; it’s a craft I take very seriously. Did you know, Katerina, that I especially enjoy poisoning rats?”

“Good thing I’m a cat, not a rat,” I tell him with a giggle. Wait, why the fuck am I laughing? Holding my hands to my head, I ask, “What was in that shot?”

“In vino veritas. In wine there is truth. There’s also truth in sodium thiopental,” he tells me in an ice-cold tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say in a sing-song voice.

“Did you approach me in The Diamond bar because of my connection to the family?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the p. “I approached you because you’re hot as hell. Too bad you’re also a psych—o.” I draw out the O.

“You knew who I was when you flirted with me at The Diamond bar,” he says with conviction.

“Wrong. I had no clue who you were.”

“You tried to get close to me on John Davis’ orders,” he continues.

“Wrong again, Mr. Psych-o,” I say, a giggling fit taking over. “Mr. Psycho. That’s your new pet name.”

“Then on whose orders?” Fabio demands.

Stabbing myself in the chest with my finger, I say, “Me. Myself. And I.”

“You’re working with John Davis,” he continues.

“Oh my God, nooooo! And why does the family have such a hard-on for this guy? I don’t fucking know him; don’t want to know him.”

“Then you’re working for someone else against the family,” he says.

“I’m not,” I tell him, trying to wag my finger back and forth, but it’s like I’m moving in slow motion. Staring at my finger like it’s the problem, I drop my hand in my lap.

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