Page 48 of Passion and Revenge

As he starts to protest, I hang up. Blood simmers in my veins, and I’m tense, my hands curled into fists. I need someone to take out all these frustrations on.

My brain starts to supply the name of the most trusted source of stress relief, but I ruthlessly push it aside.

Sienna isn’t an option. She’s a mistake that won’t be repeating itself.

I wait for the rest of the cash to be packed up and for Gonzales to smoke one fat Cuban cigar while discussing the specifications for the next job.

We part ways after shaking hands and then I climb into my McLaren and gun it to my house. Instead of letting my mind settle into its new favorite object of fascination, I force myself to keep glancing at the side and rearview mirrors for any hint of a tail.

Thankfully, I don’t notice anyone all the way to my gated house, which doesn’t feel all that much like a sanctuary right now. The odd discontent sits heavily between my shoulder blades, and for the first time in my life, I’m thinking of having one of my men bring some random woman here.

Irritated, I strip off my dark grey turtleneck, my black pants joining a moment later, and then I head to my home gym.

I start on the treadmill, and after thirty minutes on it, I jump to the bench and stack weights up until my eyes catch on the punching bag in the middle, and I head for it instead.

I don’t bother gloving up. I need to feel every hit ricocheting through my system. I need the physical pain to keep me in the present because right now, it feels like one part of me is still stuck high up in that tower with Sienna.

Sweat drips down my face as I throw punch after punch, my biceps burning. My knuckles burst open, and it’s only when the blood begins to make the punches too slippery that I finally pull away.

“Fuck!” I bite out, dragging my bloody hands over my scalp.

I stand there for minutes, staring into space and trying to get my breathing under control. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, and messing my hands up hasn’t succeeded in doing anything more than make me look crazy.

Sighing, I grab my clothes and make my way to my bathroom.

I should let her go. If she isn’t within reach, then surely, I won’t be tempted to touch her again. I won’t be beating myself up over a woman who I shouldn’t be sparing a second thought.

Ivan is right. This fight is between him and me. But Sienna has already gotten tangled up in this. I can’t let her go.

The hot water pounds against my back, offering no relief to my aching muscles. I close my eyes and hate myself a little for what I’m about to do.

I shouldn’t.

But when has that ever stopped me?

After my shower, I throw on dark pants and a cashmere hunter-green sweater. Speeding down the lonely road to the tower, I admit to myself that I may just be the tiniest bit obsessed with my captive, and one taste was far from enough.

Not even a second taste will be enough. When will it be enough? I don’t know the answer to that.

But the closer I get to her, the looser my muscles feel, and for now, that’s enough.

CHAPTER 16

Alessandro

Itake several moments to admire her from the one-way glass wall. She’s in another of those two-piece lounge sets. This one is the most boring shade of beige, and it completely washes her out.

Still, she’s so achingly beautiful.

Sitting in the center of the bed with her legs crisscrossed, she has a book open on her thighs, and she’s staring down at it like she’s being forced to read it.

My brows furrow as I watch her.

Is that not what she likes to read?

Before I can think too much about it, I pull my phone out from the pocket of my pants and open the camera app. I take three shots and send them off to her father.

What the hell am I doing? I’m supposed to be letting Ivan drive himself mad with horrid thoughts of what I’m doing to his daughter.

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