Page 106 of Filthy Little Games

“You’re marrying the woman by the end of the year, so I would say that your chances of getting inside of her are somewhere around like fifty percent now.”

“It’s zero if she kills me before the wedding.”

“True. Best watch your back. I don’t trust anyone in that damn family. How could Emilio and Izaiah take a baby girl from her mother right after she gave birth?”

“They’re cruel sons of bitches,” Dre agrees. “That, unfortunately, doesn’t change the fact that I want to bend Stella over every surface in New York.”

“So, it’s just a physical attraction to her?”

“I guess. But no other woman seems to get her out of my head, no matter how beautiful or kind they are to me.”

“Have you had them throw wine in your face in public? Maybe that would do the trick.”

“Ha, you’re not fucking funny,” he mutters.

“So, what is it then?”

“I don’t know. There’s just something about Stella… maybe the fact that she hates me and doesn’t want anything to do with me is why I find her so infuriatingly sexy.”

“You like the challenge she presents?”

“I hate the goddamn challenge! I don’t want to want someone who loathes the sight of me. I sure as shit don’t want to chase her either. Screw it. I’m not marrying her. That just sounds like the worst kind of torture imaginable, calling her my wife and notbeing able to touch her without losing a hand.”

“Oh, you’re going to marry her,” I assure him. Now, it’s not just about our alliance with the Rovinas. I think the only chance Dre may ever have of changing Stella’s mind about him will be if she’s forced to live under the same roof as him as his wife. “I don’t want Emilio to see what’s coming when we set up his accidental death.”

“Vaffanculo. If I marry Stella, you have to get off your ass and tell Zara that you’re in love with her, then give her a chance to be honest with you about how she feels without assuming the worst.”

“Me and Zara, it’s not that easy.”

“It is easy, Creed. It is,” he says again. “It’s you who is making shit hard. There has to be some other option for you to keep your wife here with you. If not now, then at least in the future — a few months from now when Emilio is dead.”

Fuck. Maybe he’s right.

“What time is it?” I ask before I glance at my watch. “Three-fifty-six.” If I hurry, maybe I can say goodbye to Zara before she leaves and ask her if she wants to see me again. “I need to get downstairs.” I head for the door.

“No shit, man. I was wondering how long it would take for you to wake the fuck up.”

Dre follows me to the elevator, and I press the down button no less than five times to call the damn thing.

“Won’t make it come any faster.”

I glance at the door to the stairs. We’re too high up to try to run down all the steps.

Finally, the elevator dings, the doors open, and we squeeze on with the rest of the passengers. It feels like an eternity before we pile out at the lobby floor.

I jog out the door to 56th Street but don’t see her, so I hurry around to 57th, knowing they were going to be picked up at the corner of Park Avenue.

“Where is she?” Dre asks when he catches up.

“She’s gone.”

“To Marino’s harbor, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

“There should be time,” I agree. “Marino was going to load them a few hours before departure to keep most his crew from seeing them.”

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