Page 152 of Vito

"Thank you for all you did today," I tell Frank as he walks past me. He dips his chin and pats my shoulder.

Gus stops in front of me. It's a moment before he speaks. "Aiken called you."

"What does that say to you, Gus?"

This is the same conversation we had after Aiken was murdered.

"That you could help him in a way I couldn't. You could help him in a way no one else could. You could help Ed."

Protect… Tell… The box.

And Aiken had planted the clue with me about how to open it without destroying the valuable contents inside. Why he did that instead of just giving Eden the details in the triggered email is unknown and likely never to be known.

"And I did." I rest my hands on Gus's shoulders. "And I will. Always. Whatever it takes."

His keen green eyes study me. Then he smiles and walks out without further protest.

The door closes, leaving Eden and I alone. We stare at each other across the room.

Then her face crumples, and she chokes back a sob. I suspect she's been withholding the tears from everyone else, but with me, she can always let go. She makes to move to me, but I get to her first.

I want to ravage her roughly, stamp my claim all over her, while at the same time worship her with so much reverence she sobs from pleasure and emotion.

But the sight of her and knowing she's in pain—physical, emotional, and mental—makes me choose gentle.

I carefully frame her face with my big, scarred hands. Hands that just did monstrous deeds; hands that have made so many bleed and scream.

"I got you, baby. Let go."

She collapses into me, another sob catching in her throat. I hold her while she cries for the brother she lost, now knowing the details of why. While she cries for what she was forced to experience at the hands of those four pieces of shit. I rock her, rubbing her back, murmuring soft, gentle words.

When her tears finally cease, she hiccups. Which makes her laugh and hiccup again.

Her hands push under my shirt and run over the planes of my stomach, chest, and back. She's transitioning from needing me for emotional support toneedingme.

"Please, Vito." She rises on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. "Please."

I'm wary of her injuries. I feel her split lip, and I know it isn't just her face that is hurt and bruised.

"Let me worship you." I rest my hands on her waist. My intention is to lead her to the desk so I can lay her down and feast on her sweet cunt.

She fists my shirt, spins us, and slams me against the wall, and a shocked laugh pushes out of me. "No, Vito, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me like youownme."

"Eden—"

"Please." Her voice catches, and she shakes her head. "I need it hard, and like you'll never let me go. Like you'll never let anyone take me from you."

Desperate. Frantic. Claiming.

"No one ever will take you from me. Never again," I growl. Fisting her hair at her nape, I pull her head back. "Everyone will know you'remine."

Her eyes flare with worry and concern because we still need to figure out how to survive 'our outing,' but that's a not-now problem. She tilts her head further back to fully bare her neck to me.

"You're fucking mine, Eden."

I attack. Her neck will wear the marks of my claiming her. I'm incensed, determined to mark her and somehow cancel out the bruises and cuts those motherfuckers put her on.

She's mine, and everyone will fucking know it. My reputation is well-known; everyone knows I'm the unhinged protector of my family. They'll know that if they ever try for Eden, I'll be their worst nightmare. The psychopath who stalks them and paints the world red with their blood.

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