Page 22 of Hot-Blooded Killer

I stand up from my seat at Pop’s table, and my stomach flutters as if this were somehow real.

I promise myself the next time it will be.

This will be the only time my father uses me as a pawn in one of his schemes.

As soon as I’ve destroyed the Beneventis, I will have my freedom.

Somehow, the thought rings hollow. So I shut it down and climb the stairs to stand next to Lorenzo, just as we discussed.

“Gia,” he begins, “I didn’t expect to see you again when I came back to Vegas. And I know this is sudden. but I have something important to ask you.”

I force my eyes to go wide as I stare at him, as if I have no idea what’s coming next—or, if I do, that it is a sudden surprise to me.

“Since I’ve come back to Vegas, I have come to admire your beauty, of course, but also your brains and wit. I never expected to fall in love. But I have.” I blink rapidly, as if pushing back tears, and for a heartbeat, that darkness that I saw in Lorenzo’s gaze in the beginning shines out at me again, threatening to swallow me whole.

But then it’s gone, and Lorenzo moves one step down to drop to one knee. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a blue Tiffany’s box.

He opens it to reveal a pink diamond solitaire on a simple platinum band. My hands fly to my face, covering my mouth as I gasp—and that, at least, is real. The ring is exactly what I would’ve chosen for myself.

“Gia Rossi,” Lorenzo continues, “will you marry me?”

I blink and nod and draw him back to standing, allowing him to put the ring on my finger and kissing him passionately when it’s done.

And for the first time, I don’t feel anything at all when he kisses me.

* * *

The restof the evening is a blur.

Everywhere I look, Mafia bosses and their capos are making deals.

As I watch, a dark anger simmers inside me. I should be part of those deals. Instead, I’m expected to smile and look pretty in my Versace dress and Prada shoes, flashing the pink diamond Lorenzo presented to me.

Eventually, I can’t stand it any longer. I have to escape.

But Pop will kill me if I duck out entirely.

So I escape to the women’s bathroom, glad to see when I enter that there’s no one in there other than the attendant, who smiles and hands me a towel when I run my hands under the sink.

I inhale deeply, taking my first full breath since the evening started.

I have to have some reason to be in the restroom, so I touch up my makeup. I’m adding another layer of Dior lip gloss when the door opens.

I don’t glance over, so I don’t realize it’s Lorenzo until I see him in the mirror behind me.

He catches the attendant’s eye and jerks his head toward the door, then hands her a twenty-dollar bill.

What the hell is he doing?

He glances into the stalls, making sure they’re empty, then steps to the door behind her and locks it.

“Why are you in here?” I ask aloud.

He steps close to me, blocking me in, and gestures at the ring on my hand. “As far as everyone in our world is concerned, you belong to me now, Principessa.” With one sudden, smooth move, he places his palms on my waist and lifts me onto the bathroom counter between the two sinks. “But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” His hands slip down my outer thighs and slide up under my dress, where he hooks his thumbs in my panties and pulls hard, ripping them off.

“What are you doing?” I try to wriggle down off the counter, but he holds me in place, his hands still under my skirt.

Then he kneels in front of me, staring up at me with those sparkling green eyes of his. “You’re going to ride my tongue until you forget every other man you’ve ever known.”

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