Page 129 of His Dark Vendetta

Finally, his thumb slowed. He removed his fangs from my leg and swept his tongue across the bite. I shivered and convulsed. Down and down, I traveled a slow descent, my body shaking and clenching and vibrating until I lay still, satisfied and thrumming in the aftermath of the most powerful orgasm of my life.

Heat from Luca’s body crept up mine until he hovered over me. He kissed me gently, then buried his face in my neck, nuzzling the space he loved below my ear. “Thank you,” he whispered.

I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him close. “Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?”

His chest rumbled with a low chuckle, and he pressed himself up, a smug grin across his swollen, pouty lips.

“That was amazing,” I said.

“Told you.”

I barked out a laugh and swatted his chest.

“So…” He moved a piece of hair off my forehead. “Am I forgiven for, you know”—he grimaced—“the whole bridge thing?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Hmm.” I tapped the tip of my fingernail against my teeth. “There is one more thing you could do. If youreallywanted to even the score.” I smiled wickedly.

“Oh yeah?”

* * *

I stompedon the clutch and threw the 308 into fifth gear. The engine roared, and the Ferrari leaped forward, pressing me back into the driver’s seat but without so much as a jerk. Smooth as cashew butter.

I shot a smug look to my right.

Luca stared at me in awe. “You really are perfect,” he said.

I stuck the tip of my tongue between my teeth and scrunched my nose.

“I love you so much,” he said, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream. To be fair, I couldn’t either.

“I love you too.” I took my hand off the shifter, grabbed his thigh, and squeezed.

We barreled down the open expanse of Highway 1, nothing but open skies and our future awaiting us. It wouldn’t be easy, and it wouldn’t be safe, but we’d face it together. As a family.

Epilogue

Vito

The Previous Afternoon

The sweltering heat struck me first. Followed by a splitting headache. The burn of something tight around my wrists. They were tied together behind my back.

Sweat dripped into my eyes. It stung almost as bad as my wrists every time we hit a bump. Light leaked into the trunk through the door seams and where the rear lights fixed into the body. But with my vision, even blurred as it was from the crack on my head, I could make out that the trunk was empty.

My head throbbed in time with my heart. My natural healing lifted the grogginess without effort, but I held onto my power. Didn’t know what I’d need later, and only a fool used what they didn’t need. Didn’t know what shape Gina was in either. They took her too. The man with the gun—Siobhán’s brother—had pulled her into the car.

Option one—break the bindings on my wrists. Wouldn’t be difficult, but what about Gina? She’d been shot. He’d held a gun to her temple, and that hadn’t felt like an idle threat. My gut told me he did that on purpose, that he knew to hold it there and not somewhere else. Even with my speed, I couldn’t outmaneuver a bullet at point-blank range.

Option two—bide my time. Yeah, I was angry as hell, but I wasn’t a hothead. Couldn’t be an enforcer for as long as I’d been and be a hothead. Gina needed me. Best way to protect her was to keep cool. I could be angry once I found us a way out of this mess.

The car made a slow turn, and metal on metal, like a commercial garage door, clanked over the rumble of the engine.

The car lurched to a stop. Car doors opened. Muffled voices and shuffling. More metal on metal, likely that same garage door closing. Car doors slammed, and the trunk popped. I squinted, adjusting my vision to the bright lights. A man’s silhouette grabbed my biceps, hauled me out, and aimed a gun at my head.

The un-air-conditioned garage was large enough to house four cars across. It was bright with fluorescent lights and the sharp, metallic smell of tools and oil. The two spaces to the right of the Hyundai were empty, and oil stained the concrete. A car stripped of doors occupied the fourth spot up on a lift. On my left, two men in coveralls leaned against the counter smoking cigarettes. They eyed me and my escort. No sign of Gina.

“Move.” The man who popped the trunk nudged me in the back of my head with his gun.

---