Page 15 of His Ruthless Obsession

"You're very quiet, little dove." His voice drops lower, taking on that velvet quality that makes my stomach flip.

"Nothing to say." The words come out breathier than I intended.

He hums low in his throat, a sound that vibrates through the space between us. When he shifts gears again, his fingers trail deliberately across my wrist, leaving fire in their wake.

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to lean into his touch. But I also don't move away from him. Every nerve ending feels alive, attuned to his smallest movements. The city lights blur pastoutside, but inside this car, time seems to slow, measured in heartbeats and stolen touches.

The care glides to a stop in front of my building, the engine purring before falling silent. I reach for my seatbelt, but Nerio's hand catches mine.

"Allow me." He undoes the buckle and leans across me as he slowly slides the belt back in place. The scent of his cologne wraps around me, making my head spin.

My breath hitches when he doesn't pull back. Instead, he shifts closer, his chest nearly touching mine. His free hand comes up to brush a curl from my face, knuckles grazing my cheek.

"Nerio..." His name escapes as barely a whisper.

"Yes, little dove?" Those gray eyes lock onto mine, dark with intention. The space between us crackles with electricity.

My gaze drops to his lips, perfectly sculpted and so close. The leather seat creaks as he moves even nearer, his breath warm against my skin. This is the second time in a week I've thought about kissing him, and I think about what Skye said. It's just fun, right?

Trying to hide my shaking, I slide a hand up his chest, and he freezes, letting me explore him. His skin is warm, more muscular than I expected, and every second I spend tracing up his body only builds the tension between us.

When my hand comes up and brushes along his jaw, I can't help but look down at his mouth. What will he taste like? What will he kiss like?

I think I want to find out.

Dragging my gaze back up to his, I lick my lips. His eyes follow the movement, and I start to move in-

A sharp ring cuts through the tension, and I jump, jerking back. Nerio's phone vibrates in his jacket pocket, the harsh sound shattering the moment.

He pulls away with a curse, fishing out his phone. His expression hardens as he checks the screen.

"Take this inside." He hands me my purse without looking at me, already pressing the phone to his ear. My mind can barely keep up now, disappointment flooding my body when I should feel relieved. "Lorenzo. Yes, I was expecting your call."

Trying to get a grip, I fumble with the door handle, my hands still shaking. The cool night air hits my heated face as I step onto the sidewalk.

"Get some rest, Jazz." His voice carries that note of command again, even as he focuses on his conversation.

I shut the car door, watching through the tinted window as he runs a hand through his hair, tension visible in his jaw. The spell breaks completely as he pulls away from the curb, leaving me alone with my racing heart and the ghost of his almost-kiss on my skin.

7

NERIO

Idrum my fingers against the leather steering wheel of my BMW, scanning the empty lot behind the abandoned textile factory. Perfect spot for a meet — clear sight lines in every direction, multiple escape routes, zero foot traffic. My informant better have something good.

A rusty Civic pulls in, parking three spaces away. Smart kid. Carlo steps out, hands visible, wearing that ratty Cardinals cap I told him to.

"You're late." I keep my voice low, authoritative.

"Traffic on Roosevelt." He glances over his shoulder. "Look, this is big. Mantiones are planning to hit your shipment coming in through Gary next week. Tuesday night."

My jaw tightens. "Details."

"They got someone on the inside at the port. Planning to swap out product, reroute the whole thing to their warehouse on 95th." Carlo shifts his weight. "Luca's calling the shots himself on this one."

"Luca?" That gets my attention. Little prince trying to prove himself more than we thought already. "Who's his muscle?"

"Brought in some new guys from New York. Real nasty pieces of work." Carlo wipes sweat from his forehead. "Four, maybe five of them."

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