Page 86 of Ruthless Vengeance
Right on cue, Zoe starts whimpering loudly, and Marco laughs.
“I think that’s my answer.”
I settle back against the pillows and unclip my bra as Marco goes to get Zoe.
When he returns, Zoe’s face is wet with tears and the moment she sees me, she starts wailing even louder.
“Come here, sweet girl.” I take Zoe from Marco and settle her in my arms.
The second she latches on to my nipple, the tension in her body melts away.
I gently stroke her dark hair, needing to ground myself from my spiraling thoughts.
Another baby right now would be crazy, especiallyconsidering the fact that we’re currently living with Marco’s family, and I just got accepted for college.
Marco sits down at the side of the bed. “What’s on your mind, Clara?”
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” I keep my eyes on Zoe.
Marco reaches out to stroke Zoe’s cheek. “Yeah?”
“I love being here with your family… But I think it’s time we started talking about getting our own place. Somewhere for just the three of us.”
Marco is quiet for a moment, so I sneak a glance at him and find his expression almost pained.
He sighs. “You’re right. I want that too, a home of our own. But…”
I frown. “But?”
“I promise you that I will find us the perfect home, but right now…” He pauses, and my stomach sinks at the crease that appears between his eyebrows. “Right now, my priority is making sure you and Zoe are safe. Thatweare safe.”
I nod slowly, the weight of his answer pressing down on my shoulders.
But as I sit on the bed with Zoe cradled in my arms and Marco beside me, I can’t help but wonder what happens the next time some old enemy of Marco’s climbs out of the woodwork.
Because in this world Marco lives in, there’s always going to be a next time. And I’m not sure I’ll ever truly be ready for it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
MARCO
Luckily for Ben,he managed to stick to his word and get Andre and me a meeting with Bruno and Carlos Costa.
I’m coming up on forty-eight hours until I’m to meet with Cillian, which means this meeting has to go well, otherwise I am well and truly fucked. Though putting my faith in the Costa brothers could also end up biting me on the ass.
Either way, I’m not liking my odds.
The air in the warehouse is thick with tension and the smell of stale tobacco as Bruno and Carlos sit across the metal table from Andre and me. A single bulb dangles overhead, casting shadows that move every time someone so much as breathes.
I dread to think what sort of memories this room holds.
Bruno lounges in his chair like he owns the place, with one arm draped over the back and the other resting lazily in his lap. His dark suit is expertly tailored, and I eye the gold signet ring on his hand, wondering if it’s the very one his father was wearing when I shot him in the chest.
From the way he’s watching Andre and me, it’s clear he’s the strategist of the two brothers. The type to remain calm under pressure, but there’s a quiet violence simmering just beneath the surface.
He’s the one to watch out for here.
Carlos, on the other hand, is leaner and wiry, which means he’ll be quick on his feet. His jet-black hair falls in front of his hazel eyes, which continue to dart between me and Andre, waiting for one of us to speak. There’s a restlessness to him that unnerves me. He seems impulsive, the type of guy who wouldn’t think twice before pulling the trigger.
