Page 14 of Hot-Blooded Killer

That bright spark inside her will be snuffed out by the time I’m done with her.

I might want her—want to bury my cock inside her, want to feel her wrapped around me, want to hear her scream my name.

But it doesn’t mean anything. Not when compared to the anger inside me, the black, endless pit of rage at my core when I think of the way her father colluded with the Los Kappas cartel to have my father and brothers killed.

I toss back the whiskey I ordered, feeling the burn down my throat and the heat as it settles in my stomach.

It swirls together with my fury, and my jaw hardens as I watch Gia twirling on the dance floor, gyrating her hips.

If the rumors are true and Gia has been acting as her father’s capo over the last couple of years, then she has to know about Edoardo Rossi’s ties to the Los Kappas cartel. To El Toro. To the man who murdered my family.

I let the thought sink in, considering all the ways that Gia must have participated in keeping the connection between the Rossis and Los Kappas alive.

The anger in my belly swirls and twists, flowing out in a red-hot miasma, rolling up my throat and sliding through my muscles. I clench my fists, wanting nothing more than to slam them into someone or something.

I want to feel Edoardo Rossi’s bones break under my fists.

But I’ll have to settle for breaking his heart by destroying his favorite daughter.

She flashes her own bright smile at her friends.

Tonight, I decide, will be the last night she goes out with her friends.

From now on, her time belongs to me.

We might not have written it into the contract, but Edoardo Rossi will understand my desire to keep her safe. That’s what I’ll tell him, anyway.

Because while Gia might be working to convince all our friends and acquaintances that we’re falling madly in love, my only job, the only thing I care about, is convincing Edoardo Rossi that I insisted he bet Gia in the poker game because I’m absolutely besotted with her.

I’m staring at her across the dance floor, thinking of all the ways I want to use her before this is done, all the ways I want to degrade her before I send her back to her father, when she glances up and catches my eye.

On the dance floor, she goes completely still, her eyes widening as she reads something in my expression—something I might not want her to see.

I duck my head and drain the last few drops from my shot glass, giving myself time to marshal my features before I raise my gaze to hers again. Then I flash my most charming smile—the one that has always gotten me whatever I want.

My smile works again this time.

Gia relaxes, winks at me, and moves back into dancing with her friends.

I order a second drink and wait until Gia glances at me again. I raise my glass in a toast and wink at her, letting a hint of the lust I feel for her leach out of my expression.

Her cheeks turn pink, and she loses the beat of the music for a split second.

Good. That’s the first step—gain her trust.

Then I’ll seduce her.

And then I’ll put the rest of my plan into action.

* * *

Half an hour later,I’m sitting in a round booth in a darkened corner of the club when Gia and her friends find me.

I’ve already ordered a bottle of champagne and enough glasses for all of us. Gia slides into the booth next to me, her hair around her hairline damp with sweat from dancing, curling into tiny corkscrews.

The scent of her wafts across me, a heady mix of soap, perfume, and pure woman.

Sarah and Adele follow her into the booth, Adele sliding in on my other side.

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