Page 52 of Assassin's Obsession

"Don't call him that. He's not a father to me, much less a dad." The pain I hear in her voice bothers me more than the near begging.

Should I kill Stefano Bianchi? His neglect hurt Candi and for that, he has to pay. With his life?

The judge is still deliberating on that one. The judge being me. Killing a capo in my own Family isn't something even I treat lightly.

And there's the small chance it would upset Candi. She may profess to despise him, but she's got a tender heart. Too tender to leave to the mercies of a man like Stefano Bianchi.

"You're safer with us." Mario's long-suffering tone says he's repeatedthismore than once too.

Her scoff is loud. "Right. You've got me wrapped up in duct tape like a mummy, taken me on a long ride out of the City against my will. I thought you were going to kill me and dump the body," she complains.

"We don't dump bodies on Long Island," Derian informs her.

The sound of frustration Candi makes sends a zing of arousal straight to my cock.

"You brought me here against my will, which is called kidnapping by the way—"

"My men didn't kidnap you." I step into the hall, cutting her off before she can launch into another tirade. "They brought you home."

Candi's sulfuric glare zeros in on me. Her usually smooth and shiny long brown hair is in a mess of snarls around her head. A smear of dried blood taints her chin. I pull a sanitizing wipe from my pocket and tear the small foil packet open.

"You should not have left blood on her skin." I gently rub away the dried blood with the alcohol pad.

Mario texted me that she bit both Freddy and Derian. Which made me proud, but I've got a course of doxy-PEP ready for her. Lucky for her we keep it on hand. Blood borne pathogensare a risk in our line of work. No matter how careful you are, sometimes blood spray gets into your mouth or eyes.

Our protocols for dealing with that when it happens means Derian's not going to give her anything, but I don't know what kind of safety procedures Bianchi's soldiers are supposed to adhere to.

Even if I did, I wouldn't trust them. Not when he runs such a sloppy crew. She wouldn't have witnessed anything if they'd been doing their job right.

"This swanky mansion on Long Island is not my home."

"It is now." Maybe I could have broken that more gently.

My poor dancer's face turns red as a tomato and a wordless scream of frustration erupts from her beautiful lips. Doubling her efforts to get out of my men's hold, she squirms like a fish on a hook.

"I don't care if you're the world's best assassin," she yells at me. "I'm not letting you keep me here, away from my family."

I give Derian a look meant to warn. With the way her legs are taped together, and her hoodie has been turned into a straitjacket, even her dancer's balance won't keep her upright if they let her go. And if she falls, Candi won't be the only one pissed.

Showing why they are number one and number two on my crew, Derian and Mario keep their hold on Candi without touching any part of her skin.

The duct tape wrapping job is more evidence of their superior thinking skills. There's no way she's getting out of the bonds, but no rough ropes or zip ties are rubbing against her tender flesh either.

I step forward and lift the squirming woman into my arms. Derian and Mario release her with clear relief.

With a heave backward, she tries to throw herself away from me.

I have to grab her close to stop her from falling to the marble tiled floor. She feels so right in my arms, I close my eyes to savor the moment.

Finally.

Leaning down, I inhale deeply and saturate my olfactory senses with her delicious scent. Spiced by the sweat of her efforts to get away tonight, it sends arousal roaring through me.

"Let me go." Her words are a plea entirely different than the one she made to my men.

My cock hardens painfully.

She tries to twist away again, straining her bound muscles.

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