Page 50 of The Pretty Psycho

Gabriela was used to having her way, no matter what. She was a warrior, a survivor, and she hated men with a passion. There was a reason they called her the Black Widow of Italy, and it had nothing to do with her dark hair.

"So," she started, looking up at me. "Is it that fucker you call a father?" She was never one to mince her words, and she wasn't starting now.

"Yeah, it's Gerard."

"God," she huffed. "I really hate him. I mean, I always hated him, but in the last couple of years he turned out to be a real piece of shit." She wasn't wrong there. "Tell me about our plan,caro. My men are on the way, but it'll take them maybe a day to fully assemble here. Is there something I could do in the meantime? Is there someone I need to kill?"

I laughed out loud this time, unable to stop myself. We paused at the top of the stairs, just in front of the entrance, waiting for everyone else to catch up with us. The entire group followed us, murmuring between themselves and talking about the plan and the things that were ahead of us, none of them being as direct as Gabriela.

What she wanted, she got, no matter what, and as much as I wanted to strangle her sometimes, especially when she fuckedwith Dante's mind, I still admired her. She and Vega were similar in that way, getting what they wanted, and I hoped that my girl would be able to get on with Gabriela.

"There's no one to be killed," I said. "Yet. But," I looked at Dante whose eyes kept throwing daggers at Gabriela, "there'll be plenty of training for all of us, and there are some new members you'll get to meet."

"Oh." She leaned toward me. "I already met your girl before." Her murmur sent shivers over my body, reminding me of Vega and where we stood at the moment. "She's fierce."

"She is." I nodded.

I just needed her to start trusting me and realize that she could be both—loved and fierce at the same time.

"Hmm," Gabriela hummed, her eyes plastered to my profile. "You really like her, don't you?" I looked down at her, seeing for the first time since I'd met her with a softness in her eyes. I didn't have to say anything because what I felt for Vega was already written on every single inch of my body. My feelings for her were a part of my coding now, and I didn't care who saw it. "Good," Gabriela nodded. "Make sure you show her as well and not just tell her. Us women," she chuckled, leaning close, "we kinda need action and not just words, Adrian. Words mean nothing if your actions aren't backing them up."

Wasn't that the truth?

"Come on." She pulled me, heading toward the doors. "I want to get this over with and then I want a nice, long bath to wash the stench of the plane off me."

"I thought you flew in your private jet."

"Of course I did," she smiled, "but that doesn't mean it doesn't stink after a seven-hour flight."

I let her lead me inside, shaking my head the entire time, all the while pondering over what she said. Vega needed action,not just my words, and all I’d done so far was tell her how I felt without truly showing her.

But that was about to change.

16

VEGA

It wasthe pounding at the door that had me jumping up in the bed, feeling completely disoriented after my sleep.

Yolanda was already on her feet, looking between the door and me, her eyes wide and worried, almost as if she was asking me what to do. I rubbed at my eyes just as anotherthump-thump-thumpsounded, making me look at the door.

"What the fuck is going on?" I asked, my voice raspy, wrapped in the cocoon of the nap I took.

"Vega!" came from behind the door, making me jump once again. "Open the fucking door!" Adrian's voice boomed around us, and as welcoming as it was, especially after the confessions I'd made to Yolanda, it was also irritating me right now.

Couldn't he fucking take a hint? I told him I needed space and the next thing he does is to come here and demand for me to open the door.

"Don't open the door," I gritted out, startling an already terrified Yolanda. "He can knock as much as he wants to, but I'm not opening that door."

"Vega," came his growly voice again. "If you don't open the door, I'm fucking breaking it down."

"Fuck."

"What do we do, Vega?" Yolanda asked, twirling her fingers in front of her. "Girl, I love you, but I don't want him to break down my door. And judging by the strength of his pounding, he would be able to do it." She was whispering, trembling right in front of me.

I had the motherfucking headache of all headaches, and the last thing I needed was to see him. Hell, what I needed was more sleep and more rest. Yolanda was right—I was still absolutely shattered, and having all this stress was not helping.

"He can try," I bit out. "Fuck off, Adrian!"

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