Page 29 of Fortress of the King

I imagine what he would be like in bed, how big he is, what he would do to me, and then I realize I wouldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted. I not only wanted him to, but I alsoneededhim.

When I’m with Angelo, as ironic as it sounds, I forget all about what I’m really doing here. It’s like my memory lapses, and I forget I’m here to spy on him and, ultimately, betray him. I know deep down they want intel because they intend to bring him down, and I knowingly will help them.

Even though he’s a criminal and not a good person, it still makes me sick to think I could do that to another person. It doesn’t sit well with me, but I remind myself that his history shows he’s just as bad, if not worse, not that it makes me feel any better.

Each time I see him, the lines become more blurred.

He has this ability that just for a second, I let myself get carried away and forget who he is. I forget whoIam, and most of all, what the hell I’m supposed to be doing, not fantasizing about Angelo and how he’d leave me satisfied and sated and ruined for any other man. That isn’t part of the deal.

I tingle from the tips of my fingers down to my toes. Lightning seems to strike through my body every time he’s anywhere near me. His scent alone, his touch… it’s all too much.

He’stoo much.

I know who and what he is, yet I ache for him to touch me.What does that make me?

He’s part of the problem in this city, like many of the elite, and I would still willingly let him take me. Not only that, I’m sure I recall a strangled moan that left my lips as his tongue slid into my mouth. I felt his hard cock press into me and I wanted more, so much more.

I could have dragged him in here by the lapels of his jacket and let him have his way with me right here on the hallway floor. Rough and dirty, just how I bet he likes it. I must be fucking crazy, but the sorrow I feel for my sister is turning me into a lunatic, and for some reason, I’m directing it at all the wrong channels, including him.

The feeling of weakness and helplessness overwhelms me and threatens the illusion I have created of this all turning out okay. It’s far from okay, it’s catastrophic.

Would I honestly turn a man like Angelo down if I weren't in this predicament? I want to say yes, I would, but I know the truth.

While heat and lust fill me, so does disgust. This criminal mastermind and the people he surrounds himself with belong in jail, still why do I find myself reaching into my panties to touch myself to soothe the ache.

This isn’t normal.

You’re right, Rayne, this isn’t normal. So fucking pull it together!

I don’t give myself the satisfaction of relieving my tension. I don’t deserve it. I’m already sick to my stomach with all of this charade.

I go to the fridge and pour myself a glass of wine. I know I’ve had enough already with the champagne in the limo, but I have to take the edge off. Of course, it’s not Dom fucking Perignon, but it’ll do the job.

I kick my heels off and put the television on for background noise.

I sit at the island bench and take a considerable gulp, steeling myself for what’s to come.

I try and will myself to not lose it. My survival ability has always been strong. The fact I’ve come this far and lived to tell the tale is a miracle in itself. I can be going through absolute chaos and can keep it all contained, like nothing is happening. It’s a mask I know how to wear well, but it’s all just an illusion.

It’s not how I was raised, but how things turned out as I grew up. I learned to not show any emotion or let my guard down. Little did I know back then how valuable that would all be, especially getting involved with the mafia.

Then the call comes, making me jump as I gather my thoughts.

I take a few deep breaths before answering. “Hello,” I say tentatively.

The voice always sounds robotic. “I see you had a successful evening.”

I close my eyes. “Yes. Everything went as planned.”You asshole.“I have him right where I want him, and he wants to see me again.” I was told not to say any names over the phone. We both know whom we’re talking about.

“That’s very good news, but I need to know his next move. What do you have?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s been a little difficult getting any information without making it seem suspicious,” I say, then quickly add, “But we’re having dinner tomorrow night, he’s picking me up. I’ll be able to get something more then.” At least, I fucking hope so.

“Things have changed since we last spoke.”

Fear grips me as I steel myself. “What do you mean?”

I need to talk to Mia. I need to talk to her now!

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