Page 18 of Catching His Runaway

“Is her death worth keeping things the way they are?” Closing my eyes, I try to imagine what Santino is hoping for. He’s not a cruel brother, but he knows he has to lead with his head and not his heart. It’s always been that case with him. Camellia is the one who is at fault for the occasional mixing up of the two.

The way emotions flick behind his dark gaze as he imagined what a war can bring to us, I can see the hesitance.

“If I decide by myself, it may result in the uprising of my brother and mother, and they’ll want my head, I’m sure. However, if I call for a family vote, there’s only one choice. Letting her leave doesn’t seem to be an option as of now. Things are still quiet, so I don’t believe I have to make a decision now.” His nose scrunches, and he bares his teeth in displeasure. “Now, if one of them sniffs around my territory, putting mine at risk, then my sister’s blood won’t be the one getting spilled.”

As the weight in my gut eases, I cross my arms over my chest and consider the different options. No matter what, something needs to happen.

“She’s still not being honest, not completely.” Gritting my teeth, I can’t get her panicked expression out of my head. It’s like a curse. “Something happened to her while she was away.”

He motions for me to continue, sighing when I grunt instead. “Well, last time I checked, there isn’t a single person as good as you are when it comes to getting information out of someone. Do what you do best.”

“You want me to take her down below?” I ask, unable to stop the rare smile from forming on my lips.

He motions with his hands, leaving my question answered on purpose. I suppose he can’t be blamed if he’s not the one giving the order.

After seeing Urzo react to her being back, and already knowing how Bia feels, there’s no way I can rely on my usual tactics. Instead, I’ll have to adapt to figure out a different way.

“Now, may I go back to my family?” He’s already turning, inching his way back over.

I lost count of how many times I’ve tried to figure out how a man like him could cave to something many in his shoes would consider a weakness.

Grunting, I nod and thank him before making my way back inside.

I return to my room to the thud of the bathroom door hitting the frame. There are frustrated grunts behind the movement. I may have taken more time outside than I originally planned.

Hearing her grunts and frustrated curses, I decide it’ll be best to let her exhaust herself. Resting against the wall to hide my arrival, I stare at the door and listen to her talk to herself.

From asking herself how she got herself here in the first place, to calling herself foolish for trusting me. Even better, I enjoy hearing her curse my name and insult me when she thinks I’m not around.

After a few minutes, I lift from the wall and undo my binding. The bathroom air hits me like a wall of heat when I push the door open—thick with steam and the faint scent of her soap. My boots stick to the damp tile as I step inside, and that’s when I see her.

I expect her to come flying at me, possibly with a shampoo bottle in hand, hoping to blind me. Instead, I find her sitting on the counter, one of my towels wrapped around her body and the long tendrils of her wet hair dangling past her shoulders.

She looks defeated.

Instead of celebrating, I’m distracted. Her legs—bare and toned andright there—dangle over the edge, swaying slightly like she can’t quite keep them still.

My jaw tightens shut as water drips from her hair down the slope of her neck, disappearing beneath the knot against her chest.

I’m reminded once more that this isn’t the same teenager I chased after for years. Valeria is a grown woman now.

She always brings clothes with her. This time, she accidentally forgets? This is a trap. I can feel it in my blood. It’s a shame all of that blood is rushing straight to my cock, causing it to stiffen harder than steel against my leg.

I should leave. Slam the door. Pretend I never saw her like this. But my feet don’t move, feeling like I’m cemented to the floor.

I hate her. I hate that even after closing off my emotions to make feeling anything impossible, she still finds ways to get beneath my skin.

She looks up through her lashes when I enter, and Christ, the exhaustion in her dark eyes nearly knocks me back a step. Not surrender. Not defeat. Just…weariness. The kind that comes from fighting too long against something you can’t beat. Her brows come together, but her frown doesn’t feel sincere.

“You’re a dick, you know that?” Her arms move, and the knot covering her cleavage dips a little lower.

Alittleis enough to make my thoughts sizzle.

Valeria has made me feel annoyance and rage, but the sensation filling my chest is a new one I don’t know how to control or manage.

Her brows lift when my boot thumps against the tile with another step inside. I don’t realize I’m eliminating the distance between us before I can feel the heat radiating off her skin like she’s soaked up all the hot water from the shower.

Is her skin flushed from the water, or is it growing increasingly pink because I don’t have the strength to pull myself away?

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