Page 26 of Deadly Wrath

I’m kicking, screaming, and fighting, anything to keep from getting on that damn plane. But deep down, I know it’s a losing battle. The jet engines roar, swallowing my struggles. So, I try to focus, to remember what Clover drilled into me since I was a kid.

Stay calm and breathe.

But right now, that’s easier said than done.

Once we’re on the plane, Alessio tosses me off his shoulder, and I land hard in a leather seat. I’m still wrapped up in this stupid sheet like some helpless person, but I start wiggling my arms, trying to get them free.

Alessio just stands there, hovering over me like he’s waiting for me to give him a reason to kill me. The heat radiating off him is pure fury, and every instinct tells me not to poke the bear right now. My pulse pounds so hard I swear he can hear it.

“Don’t fucking move. Got it?” His voice is low, but the anger in it is loud.

“Got it,” I mutter, sinking back into the seat, trying to act cool, even though my heart is still trying to beat its way out of my chest. He leans down to take the seat next to me and feels way too close. Suddenly, his scent fills my nose—spicy cinnamon and a hint of bergamot. The cinnamon reminds me of that lotion I used to love as akid, and before I know it, I’m inhaling deeper, savoring it.

“Did you just sniff me?” Alessio asks, sounding genuinely confused.

Crap. Did I seriously just sniff him like some weird dog? What the hell is wrong with me? My face goes up in flames, and I snap my eyes to the seat in front of me, pretending that didn’t just happen.

But then, from the corner of my eye, I catch a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It’s not the raging, furious version of him, at least.

Why did I smell him? Seriously, what’s wrong with me? Kill me now.

While I’m busy second-guessing every single life choice that led me here, a bombshell of a flight attendant struts toward us. Her name tag reads Nicole, but it might as well say Desperate. Her uniform is basically nonexistent, all legs and cleavage.Her micro mini can barely be classified as a skirt—her bottom cheeks are practically hanging out.

“Can I get you your usual, Mr. Gualtiero?” she purrs, all breathy and fake.

“Yes,” he replies, his eyes flicking over to me. I stare back, unsure if I’m included in this inflight service deal, but I’m both thirsty and starving, so I shoot my shot. “I’lltake a coffee. Black. And if you’ve got anything to eat, I’ll have that too.”

Nicole doesn’t acknowledge me; she scoffs and keeps her attention locked on her personal mafia fantasy. She lingers a second too long before sauntering away, shaking her ass like it’s going to hypnotize him. I roll my eyes.Subtle, Nicole. Real subtle.

Kota and Alonzo, along with the other guy—Nathan, I think they called him—also order coffee while they are settling into their seats.

She comes back a few minutes later, balancing a tray. She serves Alessio first, all smiles and batting eyelashes while she places a lowball glass with what smells like whiskey on the small table beside him, along with a bottle of water. I’ve managed to wiggle my arms out of this human burrito wrap, so I reach for my cup, but before I can grab it, scalding hot coffee pours right onto my lap.

I scream, jolting from the burn. Hot coffee soaks into the sheet, seeping through to my skin. Not enough to cause real damage, but enough to make me want to throw hands.

Nicole’s lips twitch, barely hiding her smirk. “I’m so sorry, sir,” she coos to Alessio, not me.

Alonzo bursts into laughter like this is the funniest shit he’s ever seen. Nicole throws him a flirty smile before bending over Alessio, practically shoving her tits in his face while she pretends to wipenonexistentcoffee off his sleeve. Completely ignoring the fact that I’m the one covered in coffee.

I suck in a sharp breath, biting back the sting in my eyes. I willnotcry in front of these assholes. I don’t care if she did it on purpose. I don’t care if I’m freezing, soaked, and basically naked under this damn sheet.

Just as I’m about to lose the battle of tears, Alessio jumps up from his seat, grabbing Nicole by the throat, walking her backward toward the plane exit. Her designer heels skid against the floor as she stumbles, her skirt riding up even higher. Her face turns as red as her cheap press-on nails, hands clawing at his wrist, gasping for air.

“Disrespecting a guest of mine is disrespecting me,” Alessio growls, his voice ice-cold. His grip tightens, and I swear I hear her whimper. “Your services are no longer needed. Find another way home.”

And then, he shoves her off the plane. My mouth drops open as she stumbles backward down the stairs and onto the tarmac, heels scraping against the concrete.

The look on her face is fucking priceless.

Alessio turns to Alonzo like nothing just happened. “Get the coffee.”

“But Boss—”

“Now!”

Alonzo mutters something under his breath but obeys, dragging himself toward the kitchenette. I shrink into my seat, still trying to process what the hell just happened. I don’t know if that was him sticking up for me or if Nicole just got unlucky, but either way, I’m still soaked, still wrapped in a goddamn bedsheet, and now Alessio’s stalking toward me again. He unbuckles my seatbelt. Before I can react, he lifts me bridal style, like I don’t weigh a damn thing.

From this angle over his shoulder, I get the full view of the jet, and yep, it’s straight out of a billionaire’s wet dream. Gold trim, tan leather everything, and enough room to throw a party midair.

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