Page 23 of All's Fair In Love & War

“I’m sorry. I was just overwhelmed by the day.”

The bathwater lapped gently around us, the silence thick with everything neither of us was ready to say. His hands moved, not with urgency, but purpose, slipping lower and gripping tighter, like he needed to memorize every inch of me just in case I was taken away.

And I might. Eventually.

But not today.

Not while his mouth was at my neck and his voice was in my ear and the war between us had paused long enough to let lust pretend everything wrong in our marriage was alright.

Still, deep down, I knew the truth.

Chapter 8

Peek-A-Boo

Sophia Bulgari

I adjusted my duffel bag’s strap as I slipped into the empty parking garage, careful to stay out of view of the cameras. I had just finished off Tatum’s uncle, Rio. He thought he’d gotten away because Tatum hadn’t had him knocked off right then and there, but she held back for a reason.

A public execution would’ve made him a martyr to the old heads still loyal to him. Waiting, though, and letting him think he was in the clear was psychological warfare. She wanted to make an example of him quietly because his sudden disappearance would speak louder than any bullet at the table ever could.

The feeling of being watched had trailed me for the last ten minutes, but I kept my cool. My stiletto heels clicked against the concrete, the sound mingling with the low hum of engines and occasional shuffling from behind. Whoever was followingme was trying to be quiet, but I heard their footsteps. They were a little too slow to be a coincidence.

Had my guards been with me, I doubted they would be so bold, but I had snuck past them to take care of my assignment. They thought I was inside my condo, and that was best for them. To be honest, I was deadlier than they were, anyhow. They just didn’t know it.

With a quick tug on my leather jacket, I released the safety on my Glock and shoved it back into the holster at my side. My senses were on high alert. Every rustle of leaves or flicker of light set off alarms in my head. Adrenaline surged through my veins, sharpening my focus and heightening my awareness of my surroundings. Every step I took was calculated, and every breath was controlled as I made my way to the safety of my car.

“Alright. Let’s play,” I blew out a hard breath and muttered quietly after hearing the footsteps behind me quicken.

Reaching my vehicle, I leaned against the door casually and pulled my phone from my pocket, pretending I was calling someone. I wanted my pursuer to think I hadn’t noticed anything. However, my other hand rested on the Glock hidden beneath my jacket.

With each approaching step, the hairs on my neck prickled and stood upright. I nervously shifted my gaze to the shadows creeping along the walls. They helped to conceal the figure stalking me, but I could sense their presence.

I turned back around, pretending I hadn’t seen their silhouette hidden in the corner. It was better to play along with their little game of hide and seek. Games were fun to me, especially when I was supposed to be the prey.

The sound of footsteps quickened behind me, and my grip on my phone tightened. In the reflection of the car window, a shadow flickered—tall, broad, moving closer. I waited, countingthe beats of their approach. Then, in one fluid motion, I spun around, the Glock aimed squarely at their chest.

“Move any closer, and I’ll blow your fucking brains out,” I warned, my voice cold and deadly.

The man slowed but didn’t stop, his hands slowly rising in what could only be described as a mocking display of surrender. As he stepped out of the shadows into the harsh glow of the fluorescent light, he came into focus, and my face twisted with recognition.

It was Dallas Veneto.

He looked every bit the underboss he was. Standing at six-foot-four, his frame was draped in a custom three-piece suit that fit him like a second skin. It had midnight-black fabric, sharp lapels, and a faint pinstripe running through the material. The crisp white shirt beneath was unbuttoned just enough to reveal the gleam of a heavy gold chain resting against his cocoa skin.

The suit enhanced the broadness of his shoulders and the power in his muscular build. A diamond-studded watch glinted on his wrist, catching the light, and a gold diamond ring adorned one finger. It was bold, heavy, and undoubtedly expensive.

His perfectly groomed beard framed a face that was both rugged and refined, with high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and full lips that curved into a confident smirk. His intense, almond-shaped eyes, framed by lashes too thick for someone so dangerous, slowly perused my entire body from head to toe.

The heat in his gaze made me feel like he wanted to devour me whole. But that couldn’t be. Could it?

“Veneto,” I spat, my tone dripping with disdain. “Why the hell are you following me?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Ms. Bulgari,” Dallas drawled, his voice smooth as aged whiskey.

Everything about him screamed that he was trouble wrapped in expensive fabric. The way he smiled at me, all sly and confident, sent a tingle down my spine. Furthermore, he didn’t look afraid of the weapon pointed at him. Hell, he didn’t even act as if he were concerned. That was telling of itself.

“You’ve got a good eye. Most people wouldn’t have spotted me.”

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