Page 49 of Petrichor

After what we found out about Mario Enzino, I need to keep an eye on Luca while we decide with Seb how to proceed. Nobody knows Denny was made. When we took him to the warehouse, it was under the false pretense to check the fishing company’s numbers. People think we sent him on an out-of-town business trip, we made sure to spread the word—we even sent a man to use his phone and credit cards. Seb is always very thorough. We need to keep up the charade until Monday, until we find out who’s been leaving those instructions under Denny’s house mat. That person hopefully knows more about Mario’s plans.

My mood turns absolutely foul as I leave the apartment. I grunt in response to Carlo’s greeting, and we make our way to the lobby and outside the building where Jo is waiting in the car.

I feel uneasy the more distance I get from Fly. My temple starts pulsing, the first sign of a headache coming. This is exactly why I need to stop fooling around with him. Luca is right, it’s affecting my work.

“Where to, sir?”

That same evening, when I open the penthouse front door, loud music reaches my ears. It’s coming from Fly’s bedroom. It’s closed, but I can hear him humming and moving around. On day one, I fucking told him to use headphones unless he wanted me to smash his phone. So why is he defying me now?

One cig, and I’ll remind him. I push away the thought that I’ve been incredibly tolerant with him from day one and take off my suit jacket before moving to the balcony. The headache is gone, but fuck, it has been a long day. Luca is acting like a wild animal in a cage while we are trying to slow down the avalanche that is coming our way. Seb is thinking of going to Coretti—it’s impossible to deal with Enzino, since his goal is to get it all. Seb needs to think of the best strategy. We can’t rush it; Luca needs to fucking chill.

The smoke from the cigarette enters my lungs, and I keep it there for a moment before letting it go.

The music stops, and after a couple of seconds, Fly walks into the living room. He’s wearing the tightest skirt and a crop top that leaves his arms and flat belly on display. He changed his hip chain, wearing a simple one today, no pendants. His hair is tied in a high pony tail with loose locks framing his face, displaying the many different hoops adorning his ears. He has painted his juicy lips red and drawn black and light blue lines around his eyes that make the icy quality of his irises pop.

He’s more than pretty. Fucking sexy. The powerful desire I’m feeling can’t be quenched.Merda!

It looks like he’s ready to go out. His huge bag has been replaced by a small purse hanging from his shoulder, and he exchanged his usual Converse with a pair of pink slip-ons.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” he replies nonchalantly, without even looking at me. “I’ll be late.”

“Where?” I ask again, feeling the dormant monster inside me starting to wake up.

He stops near the door to let his gaze find mine. I’ve never seen that level of coldness in it before. “The place is clean, clothes fromthe dry cleaners are in your closet. The takeout from Alonso is in that bag on the counter. Don’t wait up…sir,” he says flatly.

As soon as he pushes down on the door handle, I move. On my next breath, I’m on him. I place a hand on the door to keep it closed. Our bodies are almost touching, but not quite. I can smell that intoxicating fresh scent and feel the warmth of his skin radiating into mine.

“Move your hand, Mr. Moretti.” His voice is strong and commanding. Icy. Has this change in him been caused by my actions? I knew he wouldn’t like hearing me with that woman. It must have hurt his pride. And now, he’s putting space between us. Trying to keep me at a distance. It’s what I wanted, so why am I fuming?

My other hand finds his wrist, and I grip it hard. The inner fight within me continues.

“You’re hurting me,” he hisses.

“You like my hands on you,” I remind him.

“You don’t know what I like,” he snaps, baring his teeth.

The fact that he’s not afraid of me now excites me. His feistiness is sexy as fuck. But I don’t like him pushing me away. I don’t accept it. Even though this is going exactly according to plan.

I yank his arm, and I tighten my grip before letting go. His elbow is suddenly piercing my belly while the heel of his shoe stomps on my foot. Son of a bitch. I didn’t expect that. I take a couple of steps back as I try to rein in the pain—he has a very bony elbow.

He hurriedly opens the door and slides out. I make a concerted effort not to look at his ass. I fail miserably since is half on display..

There’s no point following him. I grab my phone from the counter and find Jo’s contact.

“He's coming down. Tell me where he goes.”

“Yes, sir.”

A devilish smirk appears on my lips. It’s on, pretty Butterfly.

Fuck the plan. I’ll come to you this time.

Fly

I see the club lights shining two blocks away as the cab stops at the traffic light. Fucking finally. I’m so damn irate and hurt. How could I believe that I’d finally found someone to stick by me only because he let me suck on his cock? I always woke up in my room the next day—like he couldn’t stand my presence in his bed.

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