I knew for certain I was a possessive man, but not usually with regards to people.
Maybe all I’d been doing was finding excuses to make Christine my wife.
Why? Or maybe the better question was why now.
Companionship could easily prove to be damaging to my livelihood and potentially the Torres organization. My thoughts drifted to how successful Jago and Genevieve had been in navigating muddy waters where women were generally seen as whores and child bearers.
The good old days.
I rolled my eyes. From what I’d seen and experienced, women could kick some ass.
A conclusion drawn.
I preferred powerful women who could go quip for quip, sword for sword.
That clearly included Christine.
While there was a good reason and the timing seemed right, the truth was something more carnal and even darker than just fucking her into submission. I wanted to own all of her, body and soul. That wasn’t like me in the least but was something that remained firmly planted in my mind.
My thoughts were filthy, with images of my body dominating hers, tasting every inch of her ruthlessly, refusing to take no for an answer. I wanted to leave her aching and destroyed while begging for more.
I was forced to adjust my cock, the thoughts far too arousing when the phone rang.
Navarro’s interruption was irritating, but likely necessary.
“What is it?” I answered.
“In a shitty mood, I see,” Navarro huffed. “I thought you’d like to know I located Gio Farrelli. I think it’s time you and I had a chat with him.”
I glanced at my watch. We did some of our best work at night. Always had. There was something delicious about the cloak of darkness. My hesitation in wanting to leave Christine surprised me. “Is he on ice?”
“Nope. We’re going to pick him up and take him for a nice long ride.”
If I insisted the timing sucked, there was more than a chance he would leave the area. I had no other choice but to return to work. “Fine. Where do I meet you?”
“He’s holed up at his favorite bar.” He told me the location and I snorted.
Full of people, no doubt. This couldn’t be handled quietly. Perhaps that was Navarro’s plan.
Send a message.
“Twenty minutes,” I told him, ending the call. I moved through the house, heading to the safe installed in my office, grabbing additional ammunition. As I did, I thought about the promise I’d made to Christine.
How childproof could I make the house? At least my housekeeper could handle the latches on cabinets. What about the locks on the doors? What about the pool? If he managed to wander outside unnoticed, he could trip and fall into the water.
And drown.
I grabbed my keys, heading to the foyer. And what about gates? I’d seen somewhere, maybe on a television program that gates that could be put across doorways. But Christine said he was smart. I could easily see him breaking free.
A smile crossed my face as I headed outside. No, I wasn’t a man who knew anything about kids. It should prove interesting. Almost immediately, Carlos approached.
“Going out, boss?” he asked.
“Business. Should take only a couple hours, but make certain no one is able to get into the house. And do not allow Miss Callahan to leave.”
“You can count on me. Do you need an escort?”
“No. This I need to do alone.” I headed toward the carport where I stored two of my six vehicles. I was certain Christine would call me a vehicle whore. I couldn’t help myself. My love of sports cars had been a part of my life since I was a boy. When I’d been able to afford them, I’d bought several.