Page 95 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
I did love her.
And Harry?
She’s my mission, the job I need to finish. Nothing more.
She can’t be more.
Harry might want me, but it won’t work long term. We’d destroy each other. She’d run again and again. And I’d ultimately end up destroying the thing I’m supposed to save. Her demise would be my fault.
I meant it when I told her to run.
Because right now, I can’t ever see myself letting her go. And I know exactly how our story ends.
“This cloak,” Gaia says, pulling off a long black cloak with a silver lining.
I smile and nod, taking it from her and handing it to Harry. She takes it and lasers a glare at me. “I’ll need shoes and outfits. I haven’t decided what I want yet…”
Gaia can read me well. If I was here alone, like I always am, she’d look at me and take me to the thing I’d need. Ties, paddles, whips. Sometimes nipple and clit clamps, but those are few and far between.
Each woman is a work of art, and in here I can shed the world to indulge in what I need for the night planned.
Tonight, reality drips in. The thoughts of Harry. Of Shiv. That underlying beat of fury I can’t quell. Along with absolute frustration over the fact I can’t work out what’s going on around me and what threads are tying it all together.
But until we get to the club, and until I discover if any of the bratva are there, I won’t be any closer to an answer.
We head down the stairs at the back, descending to the first lower floor. Harry gasps and goes up to one of themany boxes, gingerly touching what’s inside. “You’re bigger,” she whispers, staring at the regular-size dildos.
She’s ready to take off down the aisle to inspect all the toys and butt plugs, but I don’t want that shit. I want one of the top-of-the-line devices, something small that vibrates, with a diamond at the tip. Something that will make her beg for mercy.
I’d only get her a fucking machine so I can play with it, punish her with pushing orgasms or denying them, but in the end, I dismiss it.
Mainly because the only thing I want fucking her is me. Not a machine.
I know, I sound like some kind of Neanderthal.
“Harry.” She stops at my voice, eyes dropping to the floor, right after a flash of defiance, but interestingly enough, there’s no flicker of anger that follows.
I want to chalk that up to me saving her life, but that’s a dangerous assumption. So I settle for the vulnerability factor of having a gun pressed to her head.
She’ll get over it.
I’m her perfect enemy and she knows it. She will cling to it because it’s all she has.
I coil my fingers in her hair and nudge her in the direction of the second lower floor.
Madame Gaia catches my eye. “You’ve got yourself a natural and an innocent there, Torin,” she says, gaze running over me and then Harry. “Careful because I think this one might also have claws.”
“I need something for tonight, and I’ll buy whatever you select. Definitely heels, outfit fitted with easy access.”
“You’ve never bought outfits for a woman before, but I know just the thing you’d like. Unless you want to help.”
“Harry,” I say softly, “there is a big changing room in the back. I want you to go in there and assume the position.”
Confusion flares as her cheeks flood with pink. I inch toward her and draw her close. “Naked. On your knees. Eyes down, hands on your thighs.”
“But—”
“Harry.”
