Page 69 of Shot For Mercy

“And who are you?” she asks me softly.

“Not Italian.” I narrow my eyes on her face, wondering what she wants to hear. “Just a regular guy.”

“I like that,” she replies, her hand sliding to my lower back. “I’m not Russian either and definitely not engaged.”

“Never engaged.” I smirk.

“So what are you waiting for, Emiliano?” she asks. “Are we getting out of here, or what?”

“Bathroom?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” She grins.

Natasha leads me off the dance floor and past the tables. We make a detour through a deserted hallway, and she takes me to a family bathroom that’s hidden and I didn’t even know existed. It makes me wonder how many times she’s done this, but I shake it out of my mind right away. I don’t really care.

We go into the bathroom and she locks the door behind us, taking off her dress and dropping it to the floor. She’s not wearing a bra, her perky breasts on full display. Her rosy-pink nipples harden as she stares at me, and I close the distance between us quickly, slamming my lips to hers. I thrust my tongue into her mouth in a sloppy kiss, and she groans.

Turning her around, I make her face the mirror as I unbuckle my belt and unbutton my dress pants. She grabs onto the sink with a white-knuckled grip as she thrusts her ass towards me, and I take my wallet out of my back pocket and grab a condom. Tearing the foil with my teeth, I push my pants down under my ass and whip my dick out, then slide the condom on. I press my dick to her entrance, sliding inside of her slowly. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I bottom out, and she moans and stands on her tiptoes.

And so I fuck her.

It’s equally the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to me.

Ilisten to Emiliano tell his story, equal parts grateful and pissed off. Grateful because I finally understand why he won’t let Natasha die, and it’s actually a respectable reason. It’s not because he cares for her, it’s because he cares for Matteo. I can respect that, even if it puts us in a difficult situation. How will she act if we let her live? Will she make our lives difficult? Compromise a future alliance? Will she complicate everything we’re working hard to accomplish?

Something tells me the answer is yes, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I know Emiliano will do everything in his power to protect her now, especially with Matteo on the edge of making a decision. A selfish part of me wishes he didn’t give a shit—that he wasn’t willing to meet his mother. She abandoned him after all, hasn’t cared about his well-being or becoming a part of his life in the last twenty years. I know if she had, Em would’ve given her a chance.

I’m still angry, though. Mostly because Emiliano didn’t have the decency to tell me himself. I know what this is. He knows I’m listening in, and he’s taking the easy way out. He doesn’t want to face me; he wants me to find out this way to avoid explaining himself. If he thinks I’m going to just let him get away with this, then he’s sorely mistaken. I deserve to have this conversation with him. Emiliano will have to explain himself to me. It’s what partners do. They communicate—and I’m not letting him off the hook.

Listening to the story of how he and Natasha met has been torture. Jealousy has always consumed me when it comes to Emiliano, but this is different. He actually has a child with the bitch, so she meanssomethingto him, even if he denies it. And listening to this proved that. He pursued her, yet what was I expecting? Of course he did. It shouldn’t bother me. It was twenty fucking years ago. She can’t mean that much to him if he hasn’t made any effort to go after her. Besides, she’s married now. He can’t still be hung up on her. Right?

Fuck, the doubt that consumes me is all encompassing. I shouldn’t feel this way—don’t want to feel this way—but I can’t help it. I’m doubting everything between us. Didn’t he know this would happen if we didn’t have a simple conversation? Why is he being a coward right now? It makes me want to storm out of this room and confront him, but I also know that if I do that, it will scare Matteo off. He’ll see me and bolt, and I really want to know how this story ends. Mostly because I’m curious, and if he’s not going to tell me himself, then I’m going to take advantage of this moment.

I focus intently on Emiliano’s voice, and I can tell he’s trying to keep his voice light because he doesn’t want Matteo to flip out. He’s trying to come off as soothing, but he’s just pissing me off even more.

“You don’t need the details of what happens next—I’m sure you can guess—but the most important part is that the condom broke.”

My heart plummets to the floor, and I don’t even know why. I mean, she had his baby, for fuck’s sake. But why does it make me irrationally jealous that she had his cum inside of her? I knew that, logically, but hearing about it makes me bristle.

“I figured as much,” Matteo says slowly. “Though I thought maybe you guys had unprotected sex.”

“Never,” Emiliano rushes to say.

“But you’ve had it with Cole?” Matteo asks, and it sounds like he’s gritting his teeth. Forcing his words out.

“I don’t want to talk about Cole.” Em sighs, and I hold my breath. “I just need to know if you want Natasha in your life.”

Matteo laughs, an ugly fucking sound, and my stomach drops. He hates us. Hates his dad. I can tell. “And what if I want to talk about him?”

“Then we can do it another time,” Emiliano snaps. “When he’s not listening.”

“I don’t give a fuck if he’s listening!” Matteo shouts. “Why does it fucking matter, anyway? You’re going to tell him everything I say.”

“Not if you want to keep it between us.”

“I don’t care to keep anything between us,” Matteo says. “He’s dead to me.”

“Don’t say that?—”

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