Page 23 of Donned in Black

I jack up the treadmill to nine miles-per-hour and picture chasing after one of my prey. This is how most of my days start. I’m a killer. And I must remain a killer.

Ellie pops into my head again. Her green eyes framed by black hair looks good, and her smug expression infuriates me.

I can’t help but grin.

Wish I stayed to see her face when she picked up the shoe I bought her. She probably wanted to hit me. Hah. Wonder what she thought of the caramels, too. She would always pull them out in school and savor them like they were God’s gift.

The hell am I thinking?

I increase the speed another two miles an hour, forcing me into a sprint.

She was someone else last night. Confident. Sexy.

I grunt and push myself, erasing my thoughts of Ellie and thinking of my fallen brothers. All three were hit, years apart from one another. Enzo, the eldest, was the only one who didn’t deserve it. He was respectable, like me. The other two had the curse of my father’s nature.

No boundaries.

I mourn them anyway as I sprint. Thinking of Enzo’s funeral haunts me the most. The night before burial, I checked the closed casket late at night when no one was looking and found no body inside. I never got closure.

The reel goes on in my head as I hop off the treadmill and head toward the dumbbells.

Still, Ellie squirms her way in.

No one’s dared push me away once foreplay got started. Especially on my own turf.

I throw the weights down and pick up another set, pumping more weight.

In between I consider avenues of entering the Barone poker game. It’s invite only, so I’m going to have to rough up one of the weak players to get in. Even if I was invited, as soon as they see my face, they’d put a hit on me… I’ll have to send in one of the Sicilians.

That is particularly dangerous. Giving a hothead like Terry some power could wind up biting me in the ass. I’m getting ahead of myself, though. First things, first. A plan.

xxx

I finish my workout and head upstairs with a towel around my neck. My heart jackhammers in my chest when I catch Ellie eyeing my body before she finds my face. It’s like the high school version of myself is punching at my ribcage to be let out.

She looks hot even with no makeup on. And the beast inside me wants to push her head on the counter and fuck her where she sits.

She pops a berry in her mouth, both elbows resting on the kitchen island. “Morning, Donny.”

My lips twitch as I round the kitchen to claim my plate of breakfast from Sabrina. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask.

Ellie raises her eyebrows at me. “Mmhm.”

“Don’t get too comfortable. You’re taking a ride with me today,” I say, noticing her smirk drop in my periphery.

“Oh. Is the Russian deal back on so soon?” She glances at Sabrina – who hums to herself.

Saying nothing keeps her in suspense. Whatever pussy-power-trip she thought she had last night ends now.

“Donny?” Her voice quavers.

I bite into a fresh apple, holding her eyes to my content. She can’t help but glance at my chest and abs, so I return the favor by ogling her breasts. She’s wearing a white wife-beater that I wish I had a hose to drench. Then I imagine ripping the shirt clean off.

The sexual chemistry is deafening.

“You’re getting a bit too relaxed here,” I say. “Idling around like a house cat.”

“Yes, because it was my choice to be hijacked and confined to a prison,” she snipes back.

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