Page 37 of Madness & Mercy
My jaw clenches so hard it aches. Still, I drop the Maserati keys into his waiting hand.
He smirks, curling his fingers around them like he’s won something.
“Good boy.”
God, I want to strangle him. I want to put a bullet straight through his skull and see the brain matter splatter at my feet. But instead, I swallow the urge and force myself to stay still. Play nice. Play dumb.
“Are we going or not?”
“Impatient, are we?” He steps in close, brushing past me like he owns the air I breathe. “Be a goodcagnioloand follow me.”
He throws the words over his shoulder, smirking like the devil in a tailored suit.
“Unless you’d rather be dragged out on a leash.”
Reluctantly, I trail after him out of Nocturne, heat licking at the back of my neck as we pass through the velvet shadows of the VIP section, and I catch at least a dozen curious stares. One of them belongs to the woman he had on her knees earlier, though she doesn’t look jealous. Just intrigued. Like she knows exactly what I am now.
I keep my gaze forward, locked on the back of his head, visualizing where the bullet will land when I finally put him down.
I smirk to myself.
You’re dead, Nico Vitale.
When we reach the Benz, he opens the passenger door like some chivalrous asshole. Like he hasn’t just spent the last half-hour bending me over and making me beg.
It would almost be sweet—if I didn’t want to bash in his fucking skull.
I slide into the seat in silence, jaw tight, pulse still thrumming from everything he’s done to me tonight. Everything Ilethim do.
He gets behind the wheel and starts the engine with a low growl that matches the smirk on his face. He drives like a man with nothing to lose: fast, reckless, perfectly in control of the chaos he creates.
“One of these days,” I mutter, gripping the door handle as we lurch into traffic, “you’re gonna get pulled over.”
He glances at me over his shoulder, cocky as hell.
“Wouldn’t be the first time. Won’t be the last.”
I roll my eyes, biting back the urge to say something worse.
Right. I almost forgot. Nico Vitale doesn’t live in the same world as the rest of us. The laws are for people who can’t pay their way out of a chokehold.
But I’ll be there soon.
As soon as I hand Silvio his head on a platter.
“What about the Maserati?” I ask, keeping my tone even. “You’re just gonna leave it parked out in the open like that?”
He quirks a brow. “I’ll have Enzo grab it. You’reawfullyconcerned about my property, Cross.” His voice drops low, almost teasing. “You like the car or something? Better than your Nissan Altima, isn’t it?”
I scoff, trying not to let the heat rise to my face. “That’s not it. Thing’s too flashy. Screams ‘look at me.’”
“And yet,” he says, glancing at me sideways, “you picked it out of everything in the garage.”
His smile deepens. “You want it?”
My heart stutters. I cover it with a scowl.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
