Page 68 of Bittersweet Endings
Sienna was creating her own empire and paying her dues. Marco had finally grown up, managing his own crew and stepping out from under Lucky’s shadow.
Then there was me. The puppet. Strings attached to every limb as I danced for them.
Now my brother had handed the strings to Carmine and it made no sense. Something was up, and I didn’t care for the darkness they continued to lock me inside. I wasn’t falling for this shit. No way.
Sipping from the new glass of wine, I had to hide my scowl. It was delicious, better than what Lucky had ordered. And that was damn infuriating.
My temple throbbed, as I glared at Carmine. “Enough games. How did you manage this? And why?”
He looked over the rim of his glass. “Listen, little doll. Your brother has come to realize that it’s just a matter of time before I’m Capo. And I am a far better ally than an enemy. To start a fruitful relationship, he understands it needs to be a give and take.”
“Giving. What would a tyrant like you be willing to give?” I smirked, loving the way Carmine’s mouth twitched.
He finished his glass and refilled it, then topped mine off. Sitting back in his chair, Carmine appeared thoughtful for a moment and I didn’t know what to expect. “I am willing to give.IfI get what I want in return. And there’s something big I want.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I glanced around the restaurant, looking for Lucky or Rocco. Only they were gone. In fact, more than half the place was empty. A heaviness settled on my chest. Carmine wanted something big and I had a feeling I knew what it was.
“That’s my girl. I see that mind spinning and slowly coming to understand your reality.” He leaned forward again. “You, Octavia. I want you. Officially mine. Lucky’s accepted it.”
My chest heaved, and I tried to hold on to a semblance of calm. These men. This goddamn mafia. I was being pranced around with a flashy price tag on my head. And I was done.
“Well, well, well. Feisty. I can see that fight bubbling up, ready to tip over. And it makes my dick hard.”
I slowly grabbed my steak knife.
“Something to say, little doll?” Carmine pressed.
“I’m. Not. For sale.” My fist hammered the table with eachword. My water tipped over, and the remaining patrons turned to stare.
“I know that.” He grinned. “You’re already bought and paid for.”
“With?”
“I’m handing JP over to New York.” He shrugged, and I froze.
“But… after everything he’s done… Don’t you want to be the one…”
“I want him dead. I don’t care who does it. I ain’t losin’ sleep over that minor detail. Lucky can have fun.” Carmine’s fingers pressed against the table. “You mean more to me. I’ve missed how you spread your legs. How you moan my name. The claw marks down my back have healed. And I need more of 'em.”
My bottom lip shook. Tears started to drip over my lashes. His thumb shot out to wipe it away. For a moment, he looked confused and almost apologetic. But it was all a lie. A bastard trying to one-up me.
“You want—no, you deserve your revenge. Why, Carmine? The truth.”
“You know I don’t care to repeat myself.” He rolled his eyes and it set me off.
I moved fast. The knife striking out and landing precisely between his pointer and middle finger. He didn’t pull his hand back, but it made me smile to see him tense. His exhale was slow and measured. Honestly, I don’t even know how I’d managed to avoid nicking him. But it worked. I’d pissed him off.
Still, this man never did anything I expected him to do. Never would I have guessed that he’d scoot his chair closer. A gentle hand cupped my chin, the other tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
He lowered his mouth to my ear. “Let me tell you something, Octavia.”
I couldn’t help it. I flinched at the agitation in my name.
“Your little antics might turn me on, but you will stop. You know how this works when we’re in public. You know who I am and what it means. Keep it up and I will punish you.”
“I don’t care. I’m not yours. And I’m not Lucky’s to sell either.”
“Too bad. It’s done.”
