Page 3 of Bishop

“Currently indisposed.”

Her eyes flash, in fear or ferocity I’m not sure. “What did you do to them?” she snaps.

Okay, it’s definitely ferocity. “Calm down. They’re with Langston. Safe and sound.”

Except for a bruise or two. But she doesn’t need to know about the injuries I took pleasure inflicting. This whole working-together bullshit is new to all of us. Last week, Langston and I were ready to choke out his younger brothers. And apparently now we’re on the same side.

Fucking awesome.

“You need to leave.” She makes to walk around me. “I don’t want you here.”

I counter with a sidestep. “I don’t want to be here either, belladonna. But that’s the job description.”

She pauses. Straightens. Slowly regains her composure. Or maybe the speed ball is kicking in. But instead of her fury increasing, her seductive mask glistens back into place like a spell has been cast.

Her expression gentles, those sapphire eyes blinking with manipulative beauty. “I guess it’s safe to assume Remy told you I called this morning with concerns.”

I incline my head.

I overheard the conversation, from her pleading for Remy and Salvo to return home to protect her to her aggressive emotional onslaught once she found out they were in the midst of a plan to take down their father.

She turned livid, laying down the law, forbidding their intentions.

She made it known she wouldn’t forgive and forget if action was taken against Emmanuel Costa.

Not that they listened.

Hence why I’m here and they’re probably still in Virginia Beach, throwing back whiskey and discussing strategy with Lorenzo like the motherfuckers they are.

She drags in a long breath and waves an errant hand in my direction. “I apologize over how you’ve been caught up in this. I overreacted when I spoke to Remy. I assure you it isn’t necessary for you to be here.”

I wish I was born yesterday because then I could accept this act of blatant bullshit and be on my merry fucking way. Toodaloo, Viper Barbie. I’m outta here. “There was mention of you having an issue with the guards your father assigned to look after you. Are you telling me that’s no longer a concern?”

She inclines her head. “That’s correct.”

“Great. Then you won’t mind pointing me in their direction. We need to have a chat.”

“No you don’t. If my father finds out you’re here, he’ll—”

“It’s not up for negotiation. Especially since I walked into the hotel through the kitchen, without ID, while strapped.” I mimic her synthetic smile. “I’ve come across better security at Starbucks. Your men need a good dressing down for putting you in your current precarious situation.”

“I wasn’t aware I was in a precarious situation?”

I step closer, getting in her personal space, her neck craning in her attempt to maintain eye contact. “You could be. If I was someone else—”

“Someone other than a murderous member of the Italian mafia?” She breathes a laugh. “I can handle myself.”

She’s delusional. Careless. Or maybe just plain fucking stupid.

“I could haul you over my shoulder and drag you out the fire exit.” I take another step, forcing her to retreat, backing her against the wall. Her perfume infiltrates my lungs, the exotic sweetness increasing with every breath. “Where are they, Abri?”

Her hands fumble around her clutch. The clasp clicks. Then it all falls to the floor as I inch closer. But despite her flustering, she doesn’t break our gaze. “Get out of my face.”

“Just as soon as you tell me who’s meant to be ensuring your safety.” So I can teach them a lesson in customer service.

“I won’t ask again,” she purrs.

“Neither will I.”

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