Page 5 of Where the Wicked Reign

The rest of the place was empty tonight to give him privacy for his date.

Well, with one exception.

His guard dog.

Emilio was there all the way over by the bar. He was always with him, joined at the hip.

No matter.

I’d just circumvent him.

All I needed was a head start anyway, to make my point. Pun definitely intended.

I made sure to double back a few blocks, then I crossed the street out of the view of my targets and ducked into the back alley, heading for the rear entrance.

I was very aware of the blinking red light of a surveillance camera over the metal door as I strode toward it. I blew it a kiss, then brought out my pick set, picking the lock in record time.

I hauled the door open, then stormed inside, picking up my pace quickly, bursting through the storage area and passing the kitchen to my left wherein two employees were facing away from me as they stood at the ready should their guest of honor choose to order anything else.

I saw Emilio notice me as I strode out onto the restaurant floor right near Nico’s booth.

But it was too late.

I was already upon my target.

I passed by the girl, ignoring her, and just as Nico looked up, his flirty expression turning to one of surprise and confusion, I snatched up the steak knife resting on his plate and stabbed it through the back of his hand, plunging it so deep that it drove into the table below.

Chaos erupted in an instant as he jolted and grunted.

I’d been going for screams of pain, but I only got that from his date, who jumped up shrieking and stumbling unsteadily out of the booth.

Emilio’s footsteps thundered down the gangway toward us.

“Get her out of here,” Nico ground out to Emilio just before he reached me, gesturing with his good right hand at the girl. “Call her a car, then get back in here and cut the surveillance feed and wipe the data of the last five minutes.”

Emilio looked between Nico and his fucked-up, bloodied hand, unsure.

So I wasn’t the only one surprised that he’d barely reacted to that brutal stabbing?

“Now,” Nico told him.

As soon as Emilio started ushering the girl out, Nico ripped the knife from his hand and tossed it across the restaurant floor. “I knew you were pissed, but this is another level.”

“The punishment fits the crime and you know it.”

“Doing this on my own territory… you wanted to humiliate me, too. Pain wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

“Now we’re even,” I muttered, and turned to go.

I didn’t get in two steps, before he snagged my arm, then dragged me into the men’s bathroom just around the corner, kicking the door shut, then hauling me up against the wall, crowding me against it with his big, hard body.

“You’re playing with raging flames, Caterina.” He slapped his good hand to the wall right beside my head.

When I didn’t react and failed to fake a worried reaction too—shit—he smirked. “But you already knew that. You want the fire, don’t you? You want to feel the burn.”

I wasn’t prepared to hear what he was suggesting, to accept that it could be the case. Beyond this night. Far beyond this night, actually. Doing that, accepting it, would be like cementing that path for myself. It felt like if I did that, there’d be no going back.

“No,” I forced out.

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