Page 28 of Wicked Rivals

Damn it, had she always been so stubborn?

Yes. Her willfulness had always driven her decisions, and that once charmed the hell out of me. It made her strong, independent.

Made her the challenge I needed.

But right then, it proved to be a pain in the ass as she wasted what little time we had before the police arrived.

With that thought, my patience snapped again.

“I don't give a fuck whether you believe me,” I growled. “The facts are simple, Valerie. You would be dead if I hadn’t been here tonight. You’ll be dead tomorrow if you refuse to do as I say.

“You and Enzo will stay with me until I get this sorted out. When I have removed the threat, you may return to your happy little life. And after that, I’ll provide continued protection for you both. Then you’ll never have to see me again. But you must?—”

She lifted her chin to present herself as my equal and cut in.

“Who tried to kill us tonight, Stefano? Who did you piss off so much that they would come after two people who aren’t even part of your life?—”

“We need to fucking go,” I shouted.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she screamed.

Her scream shot into my face, almost drowning out the approaching police sirens. The cops were only blocks away, and we didn’t have time for her disobedience.

I lunged at her, hovered over her, forcing her to bend her neck back to see my eyes, then I lowered mine to her throat.

She swallowed hard.

“You’re getting in that car, Valerie. You can walk out of here on your own, with your dignity and the kid by your side, or I will carry you to the car. I suggest you make your choice quickly before I make it for you.”

Her nostrils flared as she exhaled slowly. She said nothing.

“If you’re so fucking convinced this is on me, then you know I’m the only one who can fix it. And I would prefer to do that before either of you loses your life.”

My thoughts, my demeanor walked a fine line between desperation and anger and moving things along before my problems doubled over the next five minutes.

Val let out a sharp little laugh, maybe to buy herself more time. Then she redirected the point of her argument.

“Listen to yourself, Stefano. Do you honestly expect me to believe you care about us? Youdon’t even believe it?—”

“Get to the fucking car now,”I roared.

I leaned in, prepared to put her over my shoulder despite the pain. It seemed she insisted on giving me no other fucking choice. The boy would follow us out.

Just as I gripped her waist, she let out an aggravated grunt and tossed her hands in the air.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go.”

Then she took the kid’s hand and marched across the broken glass with him, through the busted front door, and out to the car.

I stood there with my eyes locked on her until she made it outside, expecting her to turn back and spear me again with all the pent-up hatred she’d clearly amassed for me over the last decade.

She didn’t turn around.

Releasing a shaky sigh, I followed in her wake.

I let my eyes rest on her swaying hips.

There was no help for it. No help for me.

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