Page 290 of Rosetti Family New York
"Is that what you tell yourself?" I lean in until my breath mingles with the air between us. "That it was strategy, not desire? That you weren't thrilled knowing I was watching?"
Her breathing quickens, but she doesn't back away. "I didn't ask you to meet me so we could discuss desire."
The word desire on her lips is a fucking aphrodisiac, and it's all I can do to keep the distance between us. "What you want isn't important right now. The question you should be asking is, what do I want?"
She looks up. "What do you want, Emilio?"
"You know exactly what I want." I circle her slowly, a predator. "Answers. Starting with why you're working for the man trying to destroy my family."
"It's complicated."
I laugh, the sound harsh even to me. "All this silence, and that's your best? 'It's complicated'?" I stop behind her, close enough for my breath to move her hair. "Try again."
She doesn't turn, but I see her pulse quickening at her throat. "I don't owe you explanations."
"You owe me everything," I growl, words raw with obsession and hurt. I try to regain control. "But we can start with whyyou're dating Connor Callahan, the man who had Maddy Torres killed, who started this war."
She spins to look at me. "We need to talk about what you did to Connor."
"Do we?" I stop just outside her personal space, close enough to catch jasmine perfume mixed with something sharper. Fear, perhaps. "Because he got exactly what he was begging for when he asked you out on a date."
Her pupils dilate at the possessive certainty in my tone, body responding to dominance she's spent years trying to forget. But underneath the involuntary attraction, I read something else: genuine distress.
"Connor told me to arrange this meeting," she says, the admission emerging like confession torn from reluctant lips. "He said you'd want to discuss terms."
Ice crystallizes in my veins. "Terms?"
"For my safety. For avoiding further escalation." Her voice drops to barely above a whisper. "He said you'd be reasonable if approached correctly."
The pieces fall into place with sickening clarity. He wants me to hand myself over to protect Mara. He's relying on my emotions to keep her safe, using her as bait to draw me out. Connor's revenge for broken fingers and wounded pride.
"And you believed him?" I ask, though I can see from her expression that she didn't. "You thought Connor Callahan wanted to prevent escalation after I marked him in front of you?"
"I knew it was probably a trap." The raw honesty makes something crack open in my chest. "But Chase will kill me if I don't comply. And I thought... I hoped you'd be smart enough to see it coming."
"I did see it coming." I move closer, drawn by magnetic force that's defined us since the beginning. "The question is why you came anyway, knowing it would put us both at risk."
Her laugh is bitter, cutting. "Because I'm tired of being chess pieces in other people's games. Because maybe I'd rather face whatever trap they've set than keep running."
"You need to leave New York," I say, surprising myself. "Tonight. Before Chase realizes you've been compromised."
"I can't." Two words, full of meaning.
"Can't or won't?" I close the gap between us until I can feel her warmth. "What's keeping you here? What's worth risking your life for?"
Her eyes lock with mine, a flash of vulnerability before her mask returns. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me." I raise my hand, not quite touching her face but close enough for her to feel my warmth.
For a second, I think she might tell me. Her lips part, eyes searching mine as if deciding if she can trust me with her secret.
Then her gaze shifts past my shoulder, focusing behind me. Her expression changes instantly, turning alert. "We need to go. Now."
I don't question it, don't turn around. Instead, I check the reflection in the mirrored wall. Three men enter the VIP area. Not my security, not Rosetti men. Their posture, the bulges of concealed weapons under their designer jackets, the way they scan the room. Professionals. Callahan men.
My mind races. The VIP floor needs my custom key, technology even government agencies couldn't copy. Someone downstairs inside let them in. Some idiot employee who will lose his job, and probably a couple of fingers, when I'm finished with him.
"Service exit," I say softly, moving to shield her from view. "Behind the bar, through the kitchen. I have a car waiting."
