Page 7 of Bianchi

Romeo drops his hand. I fist mine, grateful they are tied to the chair and unable to hold the heated skin on my neck. Forcing my breathing to remain even, I keep my eyes ahead as he walks behind me. I watch his reflection in the window as he picks up something from the coffee table. When he turns, the glint of metal is hard to miss, even in the dimly lit room. A fluttering of anticipation zaps through my chest before it’s gone. Wetting my lips, I search for the words to beg for my life but come up empty. Even as I open my mouth to speak, nothing comes out.

He stands behind me, the knife in his hand and his head tilted. I sit back in the chair. The tension I’ve been holding on to for far longer than tonight ebbs away, leaving me feeling relaxed. I accept my fate at the hands of what I’m sure is one of the deadliest men I’ve ever met. My eyes flutter closed, and I hone in on the feel of every breath. Each inhale and exhale is a gift about to be taken away.

The cold metal presses gently on the exposed skin at the base of my neck. This won’t be quick. It can take anywhere from six to ten minutes to bleed out from cutting the carotid artery. He drags the knife across my shoulder and down my right arm. Goosebumps follow in its wake and my nipples pebble from the excitement that comes with the danger. The pull of the tape being cut has me sucking in an audible breath as surprise steals my fear.

“If you try to run, I will break both of your legs. If you cooperate with me, cucciola, well, then I’ll set you free. Capire?” His voice is dark, but there’s a note hidden somewhere in the depths that sounds like he might regret the words he utters.

I don’t want to be free.

Not in the way he means, at least. Yet I still find myself nodding, despite the dark, twisted side of me wanting to test his threat.

With the tape removed from my wrists and ankles, he straightens, throwing the knife onto the couch behind me. “Stand in front of the window.”

Getting out of the chair, I do as he demands. This has to be a trick. There’s a camera across the street, one Francesco supposedly set up. Is he going to kill me in front of it?

All thoughts leave me when Romeo’s heat engulfs me from behind. My body tenses, and I force my attention down to the street below. Anything to not meet his captivating stare in the reflection of the windowpane. A row of black SUVs line the street, abandoned in the middle of the road. How did I miss those when I came home?

Romeo places his now bare hand on my hip and presses his body into mine. His solid build is almost comforting, begging me to lean back into him. I know I shouldn’t, but I crave the intimacy that I think he could give me. But that’s another version of us; one that doesn’t exist and never has. Standing rigid, I ignore the feelings stirring in my gut from his proximity. “Smile for the camera, Aurora,” he murmurs, his warm breath dusting my ear.

As if I’m a puppet to his every command, my eyes lift, finding the window across the street from earlier. Looking in from the outside, the way his hand is resting on me and the closeness of our bodies, it might look like an intimate embrace.

When his hand moves under my T-shirt, the roughness of his palm grazing my stomach has me suppressing a primal moan. The sensation his fingers leave behind on my heated skin has my head sagging and my body melting into him as his hard length against my back drags the moan from my mouth.

I need more. My hips grind in small, slow movements. I feel wanton. Bracing my hands on the window frame, I dig my nails into the wood to keep from touching myself. It would be so easy to give in to this attraction I feel for him.

He fists my hair with his free hand, yanking on the strands as his grip on my hip tightens to the point of pain. He jerks my head to the side and buries his nose into the crook of my neck. Instinctively, my back arches, and my eyes close, my body craving more.

With his hand still resting on my bare skin, burning into the flesh with a heat I haven’t felt in a long time, he licks the column of my throat, nipping my earlobe. A dark chuckle falls from his lips, echoing around the room and penetrating the haze that I was happy to drown in.

Heaving my eyes open, I meet his in the reflection of the glass. A smirk pulls at the corner of his full mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. I’ve played right into his hands.

“Bellissima, you put on an even better show than I could’ve asked for. You just might be of some use yet.”

Chapter 5

Romeo

We hit traffic almost as soon as we pull away from Aurora’s apartment building. Cars are travel slowly, mindful of the slick, rain-covered streets. City living isn’t for me. There are too many people. Too many chances of someone stumbling onto something they shouldn’t. The air is pungent with the smell of a million people and nothing is clean.

Although there are some positives. People tend to turn a blind eye to anything that might give them trouble. And, on the rare occasion someone wants to play the hero, a hardened stare works well enough to send them away.

I turn my attention back to the woman in the backseat beside me with her stiff posture and body turned toward the door. Her jasmine scent has been teasing me ever since I walked into her apartment. The plan was simple: get Francesco’s location and then get rid of her. Make it look like an accident or suicide, scrubbing away any trace of me in her apartment.

But there’s something about Aurora Costa that intrigues me. I could chalk it up to being used to the energy shifting in a room whenever I walk in, or people cowering and there being none of that with her. But she’s like nobody I’ve ever met before. The fact that she was fucking smiling at the idea of me killing her, well, that fascinated me.

Watching the peace that came with her acceptance had me making a decision that could go one of two ways. Either it will be detrimental to my family or work exactly as I think it will in luring Francesco out.

Her lifeless body should be back in her apartment. She shouldn’t be sitting here, bound and blindfolded, as we head back to Massimo’s.

It takes us nearly two hours to get from Aurora’s apartment in Brooklyn back to Sandy Brook. The rain slowed us down, but once we left behind the city and apartment blocks turned into mansions with acres, the drive flew by. I expected Aurora to put up more of a fight as the journey went on, but the quiet has been soothing.

Daniele navigates the car, his attention occasionally shifting from the road ahead to the rearview mirror. He wants to know what my plan is, but he should know by now that whatever it is, I’ve thought it through. Bringing Aurora with us was the right move. If I’d killed her, we’d be back to square one with no clue where Francesco is. At least now we have something.

Aurora’s soft voice cuts through the quiet of the car. “Where are we going?”

My eyes roam freely over her, mentally tracing the contours of her body. There’s no reason for me to share that information with her. She’s my prisoner, my enemy. And yet, I still find myself replying. “To my cousin’s property. You’ll stay there until your father gives himself up.”

Her head dips, before she thinks better of it, and squares her shoulders, turning toward me. Even without her eyes on me, my body heats to an almost unbearable temperature. Just knowing that her intention is to give me her full focus is enough.

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