Page 10 of Dangerous King
The words are low, clipped even. But there is something about him that makes me believe him. I watch him set Izzy gently on her feet, one large hand lingering protectively on her shoulder. Then he crouches—crouches—in front of me until we're eye level. Somehow, that is even more intimidating than him towering over me.
"You're afraid," he states, but not like an accusation. It's an observation. I swallow the lump in my throat. I want to appear brave.
"I don't hurt what's mine," he says.
The words should terrify me, but they don't. Miraculously, they soothe the part in me that's been screaming for years. He holds out his hand and helps me to my feet, then turns back to Izzy, and the edgy hardness from before returns to his face. "Let's get you out of here. Then I'll see to the Giordanos."
"They were going to torture her. They were waiting for a man named Ringo." I push out, feeling like he needs to hear this. Uncaring about repercussions any longer.
His jaw flexes. "Will you testify to that?"
Testify? Who is that man? Some kind of cop?
The question must be written all over my face, because he adds, "To Don Edoardo."
"Oh," I bite my lower lip. Of course. You can't just kill a capo without having to answer to the Capo dei Capi. That's when renewed hope flares through me. Whoever this man is, he holds some kind of power. "If I do, will you save my parents?"
Incredulously, I stare at the tiny girl who dares to make demands of me.
She's standing her ground, even with her hands trembling at her sides. Dark brown hair tangles around her face, wild from whatever hell she's just been through. Her amber eyes, no, whiskey eyes, burn with defiance, despite the fear I know she's swallowing down. Bow-shaped lips draw tight over a jaw set like she's ready to fight me if she has to.
She can't weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds. She looks like I could snap her neck without breaking a sweat. But she isn't backing down from me. She's either crazy as hell or stupidly brave. If what Izzy said is true, that this girl saved her, I owe her a debt. A rare thing in my world. But not one I take lightly.
Giovanni and Ringo came up from the basement when we stormed the mansion. They hadn't been hiding; they'd been looking for their victim. I know in my gut they'd gone down there to kill my sister and erase the evidence before I could get my hands on them. And this little…imp, this wild-eyed thing with a spine forged in fire, she got there first.
Where I would have failed, she saved Izzy.
I look her over properly now as she stands under the harsh beams of the backyard's floodlights, caught like a fox in a trap but refusing to cower. She's far too young for me.Izzy's age, maybe a year more.Instinct pegs her at nineteen, but the way she carries herself—the way she watches me—insinuates that she's much older, wiser, which makes her way too dangerous for how beautiful she is.
The clothes hang off her; she's wearing an oversized T-shirt and pajama pants that look like they were meant for a much taller, heavier person, but for whatever reason, it only makes her look more tempting. The thin cotton clings just enough to show the shape of her breasts, and her nipples are faintly visible. A sight that shouldn't affect me, not after everything I've seen, after all the women who've tried to tempt me with less. But this? The sight stirs a low and feral hunger in me that I haven't felt in a very long time. My cock hardens like it hasn't in years, like it knows she's not just another pretty thing. Like I want to claim her, mark her,keepher.
I have no clue where those thoughts came from, but my gaze dips lower, just for a second. A dangerous second, before I drag it back up.
Her long, dark brown hair is half undone, spilling over her shoulder in a messy braid that looks like it's come loose fromrunning. Her face is pale, hollow under the eyes, lips pink and bow-shaped like they were drawn on for sin. But thoseeyes—those goddamn eyes—stop me cold. Like whiskey in the sun.
They're huge. Luminous. Defiant.
Even now, after everything, she dares to hold my stare. There's something about her—something that pulls at a thread I didn't know I had. Innocence, yes. But wrapped around something sharp. Unbending. She looks breakable, but everything in her posture saystry me.
And I don't know what I want more.
To protect her. Or ruin her.
"Let's find a better place to discuss this," I say, waving a hand at the bloodstained yard. "In the meantime, I'd be honored if you'd be our guest for the time being, Cat."
Her gaze lingers on mine, uncertain, wide with distrust, as if… she's contemplating it. Seriously?
That amuses me more than it should.
"Do you really have a choice?" I ask, smirking.
"Be nice," Izzy scolds, slapping my bicep.
Then, like the little royal she is, she grabs the girl's hand and pulls her away, or tries to at least, until Cat stops short, turning back to me, eyes full of a deep rawness and desperation.
"My parents, please. Giovanni will have them killed."
I nod. "What are their names and where are they?"
