Page 42 of Desire and Revenge

I cross the room, shrugging off my jacket as I walk and then toss it toward her, before turning my attention back to Tony and his mistress.

“You have no right to be here!”

“Neither does she,” I say coldly. To the girl, I add, “Close your eyes.”

Tony opens his mouth to protest, but the sound of my gun firing freezes him. He watches in horror as his mistress’s head erupts into a spray of red. The girl behind me screams in terror.

“What the bloody hell, Castello! Is this how you intend on being a bully when you take over from Lucchese? If you think you can kill me and get away with it, you should think again,” he roars. “The men love me, they trust me. They sure as hell don’ttrust you. If you kill me, your whole Kingdom will crumble, and you’ll have just wasted all those years of hard work.”

I step closer and closer to him during his bullshit speech till I’m right in front of him. He stares up at me with false bravado, but I can see through it—the sweat on his forehead, the tremble in his body.

I smile then fire. Aiming for his thighs. He drops to the ground, groaning and screaming. That’s when I hear the sound of footsteps rushing down.

I raise my head and wait for the guard to come into view. The man skids to a stop at the door, takes in the scene, then his gaze flies to the girl behind me and go saucer wide and horrified.

“I-I didn’t know about this, I swear!” he stammers. “I have a daughter about her age. I could never condone this. You have to believe me, boss.”

“Get off the boat,” I order. A moment later, he’s hurrying down the hallway.

I spot a handcuff on the edge of the bed and grab it, then squat down to cuff one wrist of Tony and the other to the foot of the bed.

Glancing over my shoulder at the girl, who is now staring at me with something like adoration, I jerk my head toward the door. “Get out of here.”

“Nowhere t-to g-go,” she stammers, her accent catching my attention. She’s not Italian. I wonder how long she’s been here to have learned the language. Jesus Christ, these men are sick.

I ignore Tony’s pleas and motion at the girl to follow me. “Grab some pants first.”

I find the kitchen and turn off the gas pipe. Together, we leave the boat. Once we’re at a safe distance, I flick my lighter, igniting the gas. My bike speeds away from the docks, and behind us, thick smoke rises from the ruins ofThe Giavonna.

I leave the girl with Davide’s girlfriend while he starts locating her family. By the time I return to the Lucchese compound, I’m exhausted and my guard is down. I’ve had to answer a lot of calls from associates who commended my ability to get rid of the filth.

Nobody is going to be missing Tony and, in fact, his death just opened a channel to an association with a rival of his who refused to join me because of his involvement.

The entire time, Sofia hasn’t been too far from my mind, and I’m wondering if she ever will be. Will there ever be a time when I won’t think about the green-eyed woman? I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize I’ve made my way to the greenhouse until I spot a familiar frame leaning over a pot of petunias.

What Sofia doesn’t know is that growing up, I used to help to care for the flowers here, and since my return, I’ve been trimming, watering, and replanting them.

Feeling my presence, she spins around to face me and, like every other time, I lose my breath. She’s in a lilac-form-fitting dress that has a cute white collar. Her hands are clasped in front of her primly, but the look in her eyes is anything but prim.

I’m not sure Sofia realizes how she looks at me. And if her dead-brained husband wasn’t so obtuse, he’d have seen through her a long time ago.

“Princess,” I rasp, leaning against the wall. “Where’s your other half? I was starting to think he’d stitched your sides together.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she replies, swallowing nervously. “Where have you been?”

I chuckle, letting my shoulder relax against the wall. Damn, I love it when she’s feisty for me. “Were you looking for me?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

A v forms in between her eyebrows as they dip into a frown. “You’re not supposed to answer a question with another question.”

“Are you the language police?”

“You’re infuriating.” Her lips purse, and I imagine a hundred things I would love to do to that mouth.

A charged silence hangs in the air. I watch her silently as she swallows, clenches her fists, and shifts from foot to foot.

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