Page 6 of Bound to the Enforcer

I hate when she calls me that.

Hazel eyes flash across my mind as I reach that climax. The orgasm rips through me like an earthquake, splitting the earth in two. I ride out the wave, allowing the passion and heat to consume me until it all dwindles to nothing but low-burning embers.

Shit. I curse the heavens and pull out of Naomi, who looks satiated and content. She flops onto the bed and twirls the diamond necklace around her finger.

"Another round in a few?" She licks her lips. "You have never come that hard before. You must have missed me."

"No." I zip my trousers and gather myself. The smile drops from her lips, and a scowl replaces it. "Your services are no longer needed, Naomi. This is the last you will be seeing of me."

Her eyes widen in pure disbelief and shock. The hurt in her eyes is palpable.

"Alessio, you–"

I am already out the door before she has time to complete her sentence. I hear her call after me, but I ignore her pathetic cries for attention. She knows what this is and what her line of work is. That gift around her neck was a gift for all the clients she brought in. It was never about my feelings for her.

I thought ofher. As I hit my climax, her face flashed across my mind, and I came. This is not good. I came to the fucking brothel to rid whatever confusion had riddled my body. Now she is playing a starring role while I fuck another woman?

I need to get my head right, or this could end up badly for the both of us.

Chapter Three

Sophia

Iwake to the sound of footsteps outside my door. They're soft, almost imperceptible, but my senses have been on high alert since the funeral. I sit up in bed, my heart pounding, and glance at the clock on my nightstand. 5:47 a.m. The sky outside is just beginning to lighten, casting a pale blue glow over the room.

A knock follows, heavy and deliberate. It's Alessio. Of course it is.

"Come in." I sit up in my bed and rest my back against the headboard. I try to rub the sleep from my eyes.

Alessio steps inside, looking as composed as ever. His black shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, his sleeves are rolled up to his forearms. He doesn't say anything at first, just closes the door behind him and surveys the room. Checking for danger perhaps.

"You didn't drink the tea," he says, nodding toward the untouched cup on my desk.

"I wasn't thirsty," I reply, pulling the blanket tighter around me. "And it smelled like grass."

His dark eyes lock onto mine. "You are not drinking it for the taste, Sophia. Don't be a child."

"It's disgusting, Alessio. Are you trying to poison me?"

"For fuck's sake," he says in an exasperated tone. "Did you at least sleep?"

I give him a curt nod. "I did. What do you want? It's five in the morning. I'm assuming that you have a reason for being here at the ass crack of dawn."

He stares at me. His chocolate eyes are molten with intensity. Everything about this man is either one extreme or the other. Before my father's death, I think I had only heard him speak three sentences to me. So having him be so… vocal with me is something that I need to get used to.

"Needed to make sure you didn't off yourself in the middle of the night." He stalks over to my bed and comes to a halt by my bedside table. He looks down at the full cup of tea. "Glad to see that you didn't take the easy way out."

I pull the sheets closer to my chest when his irises flick back to me. Something is unnerving about his presence. This man is just so… all-consuming. I hate that.

I glare at him, trying to swallow the thickness in the air, my exhaustion making me more irritable than usual. "What do you want, Alessio?"

He folds his arms. "We need to talk about Trevor."

The name sends a chill down my spine. Trevor. Dead. I knew Trevor, not well, but enough to know that he was just a kid who had a whole life ahead of him.

"I thought you didn't want me to know about the ins and outs of what happened." Alessio had made it abundantly clear last night that he would handle everything. I wanted to see the body and the scene of the crime. One of my own had been taken down, and I needed to know. But he had said my eyes "were too fresh." Whatever the hell that means.

"What about him?" I ask, my tone steady.

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