Page 63 of Tainted Princess
“You wanna tell me what you’re talking about?” I snarled, still trying to remove Francesca from his vicinity.
And she was still trying to get by me.
Ivan, to his credit, didn’t flinch when I pressed the blade to his neck again. “Kill me, then,” he goaded, tilting his head back and exposing even more of his throat. “But The Chemist will still come for you. This city will be his, by force if necessary. You can’t stop this storm.” He then shifted his eyes to Francesca, the darkness in his gaze intensifying as he stared at her. “And you will feel his wrath most of all. He has no patience for self-important bitches who don’t know their place. You will beg for the end and then you will die screaming.”
The rage inside me grew and I slammed my fist into the side of his head, feeling nothing but satisfaction when his blood coated my knuckles. Gazing down at Ivan, his head now lolling on his shoulders as he slid into unconsciousness, I wanted nothing more than to kill him. The way he had looked at Francesca, the hate and darkness in his eyes as he threatened my wife had raised my own demons, and there had been no stopping my response.
I could feel her standing behind me, but I didn’t want to turn. I wasn’t sure how I would handle seeing her look at me with fear. In all our interactions, Francesca had shown me many responses, but fear had never been one of them. The thought of her seeing me as no better than that scumbag Ivan caused a very foreign feeling to stir in my gut.
Worry.
Taking a breath, I turned, but Francesca didn’t seem the least bit affected by the threat, either from me or from Ivan. Standing as she was, arms crossed with a look of faint annoyance on her face, she appeared completely confident in her safety.
“Well done, Enzo,” she quipped. “How do you propose we get answers from him now?”
“We?”
“Yes,” she replied. “We. You wouldn’t even know who he was if it wasn’t for me.”
The reminder of her actions in the club only further incensed me. There was no way I was letting her put herself in danger again.
“There is nowe, Francesca.” I watched as her eyebrows drew together, finally showing some sort of reaction, even if it wasn’t for the actual danger around her. “You are going back to the apartment. I’ll deal with this.”
“Enzo,” she started, hands on her hips in defiance. “You need me. How else are you going to get more information out of him? Unless you suddenly learned to speak Russian.”
“You let me worry about that.” If Ivan was telling the truth, I would be calling Anton as soon as possible. He would want to have a few words of his own before the night was through. “You just worry about doing what you are told.” The muscle in her jaw ticked as she glared at me, but I wasn’t having it. This type of shit was no place for a woman, even one as feisty as Francesca.
“You’re the one that asked me to come here, Enzo.”
“And now I’m the one asking you to leave.”
“That’s not—”
“Now, Francesca!” I roared, causing her to jump backward. I could see Rocco moving toward her, and I got even more pissed off when I realized he was positioning himself between us, like he didn’t trust me not to hurt her.
“Come on, Francesca,” he said softly, giving me a look that said he was pissed at me. “I’ll drive you home.” Shaking his head, he headed for the stairs. Well, fuck him. It wasn’t his wife getting threatened by Bratva rejects. It wasn’t his wife starting brawls in night clubs like she was on the set of some fuckin’ movie. Francesca was my responsibility, and there was no way I was gonna let her get involved where she didn’t belong.
Where she wouldn’t be safe.
Rock was almost to the top when Francesca spoke. “Don’t bother. I have my own ride.” Shooting me one last angry glare, she spun on her heel and stomped out of the basement like a Spartan heading for war.
After she was gone, the door slamming behind her, Rock blew out a quiet whistle. “Holy shit.”
I snorted. Holy shit was right.
“Call Anton,” I snapped, satisfied when Rock immediately pulled out his phone to make the call. “Let him know we have someone he might be interested in speaking with.” I looked again at Ivan, still out cold. “I want to know who The Chemist is, and I want him taken care of.” I may have let Ivan off with a few solid punches, but once Anton got here, there would be nothing left of that sorry fuck if he still chose not to talk.
Made me wonder what Francesca would think about it.
Shit. Francesca.
What the fuck was I gonna do with her? It was stupid of me to bring her here, but I wanted to know what Ivan was up to, and without knowing if Anton was involved, I had no choices. Now all I’d done was piss her off.
Francesca and I had had a fairly tense relationship to begin with but for the most part, she had stayed out of my way, and I had stayed out of hers, just as she had suggested.
But tonight had blown all of that to hell. I was neck deep in some serious fucking shit here, and now I had involved her as well. Ivan threatening Francesca—my wife—had flipped something inside of me, an instinct to protect that I didn’t know existed. I told myself it was just a matter of pride, that Francesca was mine, my property, and that I wouldn’t accept that kind of disrespect from anyone.
But I knew deep down that was a fuckin’ lie.
