Page 93 of The Boss

The sadistic side of me wanted nothing more than to bind her wrists together, keeping her completely immobile while I fucked her like some wild animal. A tornado of lust swept through me, the ache impossible to ignore.

Everything about her evoked a deep and dangerous need that had only continued to build, especially after the incident in the garage. Hell, I’d wanted to fuck her in the airplane. Now that was reckless as fuck.

Somehow, her scent lingered, flaring in my nostrils as it had done so many times before. I flexed my fingers open and closed, longing for the buildup of heat when I brought my palm down against her rounded bottom.

Maybe we both needed for me to provide her with a round of discipline. I doubted she would follow my orders. But bringing her back to the house had been the best choice.

The only choice.

My phone had been replaced, brought to me by Atticus, and what had been the first call? An anonymous threat. Keeping an eye on her was required business.

Ensuring I had the right men around me was another.

“What did you say?” I asked, gritting my teeth for the tenth time that day.

“Pops asked if you had any idea who made the threatening call.” Havros was studying me carefully. Maybe I’d sprouted two heads.

I shook my only one. “No one I recognized unless we have some friends or business associates disguising themselves as the Joker.”

Christos sucked in his breath, blowing it out in a whistle. “Are you serious?”

“Exactly like in one of the movies.” That alone had been unnerving and it occurring in the middle of the night in a damn hospital room had only added to the fire I felt, the need to toss gasoline on someone.

“Someone knows about Willow.” My father’s voice reflected his own concern.

Havros eyed Christos again. “You haven’t told him,” Havros chided.

“I’ve been a little busy.”

Nico was stoic, but I could tell by the thick cords in his neck he wanted to become involved in the conversation. He’d hassled me for a solid hour the night before about enticing the assassin. Or as he’d called it, signing my death wish.

“Told me what? Are you in some kind of dangerous game?” My father might be in his late seventies, but he caught on quickly. There was nothing wrong with his mind.

“It’s necessary,” I told him.

Nico huffed.

Christos laughed. “You might as well tell him Willow is being used as bait. He’ll find out soon enough.”

What my younger brother didn’t know was that it was a page I’d stolen from my father’s playbook. He’d used our mother to lure one of his enemies into a tight net. They’d fallen in love afterwards.

My father laughed. “I think this calls for another drink. I value your ruthlessness, Dimitrios.”

“What?” Havros was shocked. “Are you kidding me? He was shot down by these people.”

“It’s part of our world. If you can’t handle the expectations of death, you aren’t cut out to be in a leadership position. I am curious. Her idea or yours?”

At least I could still smile about her spunk and tenacity. “Hers. We entered into a business arrangement.”

Atticus knocked then walked into the room. In his hand was his iPad, which usually meant he had information. His grin was entirely different than usual.

“You found something?” I asked.

“More like he found me. It would seem the Stalker has a sense of humor. My cover was blown on the dark web.” He handed me the handheld, his expression still one of amusement.

“What is it?” Christos asked, crowding my space.

“An intricate meme.” I handed it off.

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