Page 77 of Thorns of Death
“Yes, I am,” I gritted. “And next time you decide to shove me in a room without windows, I’ll murder you.” Then, realizing his sons were watching my every move, I quickly added, “Not really. But he’d learn his lesson.”
“So do I get the date?” Enzo didn’t seem worried whether I’d kill his father. Men. Boys. Italians. They were a different breed.
I smiled at him. He was persistent if nothing else.Probably gets that from his father too, I thought.
“You won a date, Enzo. And let me tell you, sonatas and romance will get you more female attention than buying girls pretty things. And never,everlie or cheat.” I narrowed my eyes on his father. “Unlike some men, it’s not too late for you.”
TWENTY-FIVE
ENRICO
Isla was a challenge, and I fucking thrived on those. I could feel her emerald eyes on my skin, and even though she was glaring at me, it felt like a soft caress. How such a beauty could be related to Illias Konstantin was beyond me. She was sweet, compassionate, and so fucking sensual that something primal in my gut tightened.
She was mine. The stars had aligned and made her forme,and by God, I intended to keep her.
Just as I predicted, Konstantin showed up, but he was preoccupied with Tatiana’s kidnapping. He went after her with the information I supplied him. He asked me to keep Isla safe, and I fucking would, the only way I knew how. The window to execute my plan was small, but it was a good thing I had set everything in motion last night.
She’d be mine, for better or worse, in sickness and health. For richer or poorer. I’d have her in my bed every night and at my table every day.
My sons’ curious eyes darted between my unknowing soon-to-be wife and me.
“Boys, will you give my woman and me a few moments to talk?” I asked, holding her emerald gaze.
“Ah, that’s why she doesn’t want to be my girlfriend,” Enzo muttered in disappointment. “She saw you first.” Isla rolled her eyes, but my eldest kept his eyes on her reverently. I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t have to compete with my son for my soon-to-be wife’s affection. “What about that date to the concert you promised me?”
I raised my brow. If Isla thought she’d be going on a date with anyone, my son included, she was mistaken. She was mine, and I refused to share her. She could mother them to whatever extent she chose, but all her dates belonged to me.
“We’ll all go as a family,” I answered before she could.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, Enrico, but I am not your family,” she snapped. “And stop putting these poor boys through havoc with your delusions. They have a mother. Who’s alive, by the way.”
“I’m aware,” I argued calmly. I wouldn’t tell her the whole truth until she was my wife. Then she’d be under the same rules as our organization and the motto of Omertà would apply to her too: Silence above all else. “But you’ll be my wife. After all, we had some activity without protection last time.”
“What activity?” Amadeo asked curiously. I certainly wasn’t going to elaborate that I fucked this woman without a condom. I’d had a safe sex talk with my sons, and a condom was always a must.
A stain of embarrassment marred her cheeks. She opened her mouth, then closed it, only to open it again.
She forced a smile to her lips, turning her emerald gaze to the boys. “Enzo, Amadeo. It was so nice to talk to you while we were all locked up in this dreadful room. But now, would you please give me a minute so that I can talk to your father and try not to murder him?”
“I kind of want to stay,” Amadeo protested, eager for some action.
Enzo’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I like you, Isla, but if you kill Papà, I’ll have to come after you.”
His tone was serious, his expression even more so. He’d carry this family well one day.
Thankfully, Isla didn’t take offense, and her own expression softened. “I won’t really murder him.” Her eyes shot a glare my way, but the moment they returned to Enzo and Amadeo, her emerald gaze melted to liquid. “But Iwillgive him a piece of my mind, and he probably won’t like it.”
She was glaring at me again, storms raging beneath her delicate red brows. There was something satisfying about the knowledge that I could make someone as sweet as Islaburn. With desire. With anger. With passion.
“Enzo. Amadeo. Go to Manuel.”
The two of them flicked another curious glance Isla’s way, then scurried away. Her hands went to her hips, striking a pose full of sass and fire as she glared at me with that green gaze.
“Now, you will tell me everything you know,” she demanded dryly. “Starting with my mother and what you have to say about what your very muchalivewife—” She emphasized the last two words, and I grinned rakishly as my gaze slid down her body. “—has told me.” Unable to resist, I reached out and ran a thumb over her collarbone. That creamy skin that blushed pink when she was aroused. Or upset. She tried to slap my hand away but I caught her wrist, her soft skin silky under my rough palms. “Oh, no! You don’t get to touch me anymore.”
We’d see about that.
“What has Donatella told you?” I asked casually.
