Page 41 of King Of Order

Complete with the jutting swell of my tits and taut nipples showing through the thin silk top. I drew the robe closed over me to cover up.

My eyes flashed up to meet his amused glance; then my thighs trembled as I tagged the smolder in his pale eyes.

Damn him. This was the shit I had not prepared for.

‘I don’t know if I can even afford you,’ I muttered, eyes flicking to the expensive timepiece on his wrist.

His gaze followed mine, his timbre rumbling. ‘I have tiered fees. I’m sure you’ll fit into any of them. I’m very affordable.’

‘You carry? My enemies are ruthless.’

He slid a hand to his back and retracted it.

Revealing a sleek black and silver handgun that he’d concealed so far without me sighting it.

He set it on the table, almost with a caress.

I gave him a disbelieving look.

He indulged me. ‘It’s a single-action semi-auto Wilson Combat SFX9. Best in the market. The trigger is superb. The sights are excellent for fast defensive work and the action cycle with impeccable smoothness.’

‘Doesn’t mean a fuckin’ thing to me. Can you use it?’

He chuckled. ‘Si, as many of goons who’ve fucked around with me have found out.’

I assessed him once more.

I’d met countless made men.

Over the years, hundreds of thugs cycled through my father’s offices. Run-of-the-mill thugs—overweight, sweaty enforcers, bumbling through life with more muscle than brains.

They were mobsters, crude and predictable, their intelligence capped by the barrel of a gun or the heftiness of a briefcase full of dirty cash.

But Rio? He was different.

Far removed from their brutishness, he was a smooth and precise operator who knew what he was doing.

Lethal, no doubt, but he’d an edge to him, a sharpness behind those calm, calculating eyes. Every gesture was measured, and each word was delivered with a quiet confidence that set my nerves on the verge.

His sinewed, muscled frame exuded strength but wasn’t only physical.

The kind of power came from insight, from knowing how to maneuver in a world of chaos without ever breaking a sweat.

He didn’t need to flaunt authority. It was evident in how he moved and spoke—like a predator, always ahead of his prey.

I’d seen enough to know the difference between brutes who relied on fear and men like Rio—dangerous, yes, but also savage because he was smart.

Ruthless, methodical, and terrifyingly in control.

The type of man I needed to watch my back.

I had no time to play the fool.

I had to move fast.

Because Claudio had already set the dogs on me, worse, he’d go ape shit if Olivio died and he found out he was not the successor to the throne.

I stared into my coffee cup as if willing the grounds to provide new revelation. Finally, a thought came to me.

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