Page 52 of Bastian

In her blood.

In her brain.

And I won’t rest until I’m back where I was always meant to be.

Her heart.

Looking at the black roses, I smile. I smile because I’m happy. I haven’t felt genuine happiness apart from Ellaiza, in a long time, but today I feel as if I’m being brought back to life, and it is all because of the woman who owns me.

Taking the magazine in hand, I flip through the pages in awe of what she accomplished without my help. She is the CEO of a news magazine and a paper.

And I? Her favorite topic, from what I see. She made me the front page of the newspaper and the cover for this month’s issue of her magazine.

Bad press, but how can it be bad when it comes from her?

And she thought she wasn’t a romantic.

It doesn’t get more romantic than this.

My woman even highlighted the best parts of the article for me. Every quote that makes me look in a bad light…she highlighted for me.

Ignoring Shaw’s irritating presence, I look at the article that has images of me stepping out of Sandoval’s home in the middle of the night. The news is nothing new since more outlets have run with the story before, but what’s different this time is the article offers more insight into my relationship with the crime lord.

How Thiago Sandoval has been linked to other crime lords in the States.

It mentions the rumors that I know for a fact are true, but the country doesn’t. The rumors that Sandoval took out a handful of high-profile politicians, some that were in the presidential race and were my opponents.

It makes it seem as if Sandoval cleared the path for me to become president, but the reality is that those men were taken out for other reasons.

Reasons that no one but us and the dead men know.

Besides my men, only Arianna knows, to an extent, my relationship with the Sandoval capo.

She knows more than most people, and that makes her a threat.

Fuck.

I need to handle this before it gets out of hand and she starts revealing shit that might cause me problems with other crime families I’m associated with, too. I can handle most of them, but I won’t risk it.

Risk her.

Roaming through the basket, I notice a small note stuck to a black rose.

President Kenton,

Here’s the secret to winning any game…

Play the player, not the game.

-Parisi

Chuckling like a crazy fuck, I shove the note into my breast pocket.

Oh, you play me alright, darling.

I can’t wait to play with you, too.

Her pretty green eyes flash through my mind, green and with a new fire that makes promises of misery and trouble—which awakens a dominant, dark part of me.

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