Page 32 of His Ruthless Obsession

"Not tight enough." His fingers dig in slightly. "I'm adding facial recognition at all entrances. Private security stationed at every access point. No one gets within twenty feet of you without clearance."

I turn to face him. "And what about actually running the club? I can't manage things properly if I'm trapped in a security bubble."

"You'll adapt." His tone brooks no argument. "Marco's handling the street operations. You focus on the legitimate side, stay where we can see you."

"That's not-"

"Jazz." He cups my face, eyes hard as steel. "They're watching. Waiting. One slip is all it takes."

"I know that." I pull away, frustrated. "But I won't live in a cage. I need to work."

I can't go back to that again. I can't be under someone's thumb, at their mercy.

"This isn't negotiable." He follows, backing me against the railing. "You're part of my world now. That means playing by my rules."

"Your rules?" I arch an eyebrow. "Since when do I follow anyone's rules but my own?"

His laugh is dark, dangerous. "Since someone put a target on what's mine." He leans in, breath hot against my ear. "I protect what belongs to me, little dove. Whatever it takes."

The possessiveness in his voice should anger me. Instead, it sends heat coursing through my veins. I'm being drawn deeperinto his shadowy realm with every passing day, and the scariest part is how right it feels.

"Fine." I press my palm against his chest. "But I won't be sidelined completely. I need to do my job."

"You will." He captures my wrist. "Under my terms. My protection."

The city lights glitter behind him like stars, reminding me there's no going back now. I'm caught in his web, tangled in threads of danger and desire.

14

NERIO

Ipace the length of my office, phone pressed to my ear. "Tell me you found them."

"We traced them back to a Mantione safehouse on the west side," Sal reports. "Four of them holed up there thinking they're untouchable."

My jaw clenches. The image of Jazz standing before me, trembling as she put the box in front of me that held threats against her. "Get everyone in position. I want that place surrounded."

"Already done, boss. Just say the word."

I check my watch. It's 2:30 in the morning. Perfect timing for sending messages. "Light it up."

Twenty minutes later, I stand across the street watching flames engulf the safehouse. Screams echo from inside as my men block every exit. No mercy tonight.

"Please!" One of them staggers out the front door, coughing. "We didn't know what was in the box."

I stride forward, drawing my gun. "You targeted her knowing she worked for me. That makes you mine to deal with."

The shot rings out clean. Clinical. His body crumples to the pavement as sirens wail in the distance.

"Search for anything that survived the fire," I order Marco. "I want to know who gave the order."

"What about the other three?"

"Let them burn." I holster my weapon. "Then hit their legitimate businesses. Shut down their gambling operations. Freeze their accounts. I want the message clear — the Bueti family protects its own."

My phone buzzes. I don't have to look to know it's a text from Jazz about how bored — or safe as I see it — she is at the penthouse. The little reminder sends relief flooding through me, quickly replaced by cold fury. The Mantiones crossed a line targeting her. Now they'll learn exactly why the Bueti name commands respect in this city.

"Sir." Marco approaches with a laptop retrieved from the building. "Found something interesting. Looks like they've been running girls through that new club on Roosevelt."

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