Page 42 of Hot-Blooded Killer

I start to walk away, then stop and turn back to face my supposed friends. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?” Adele asks tentatively.

I roll my eyes and laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “You did. You knew about the bet.” It’s not even a question.

This time, their guilty glances give them away entirely.

I knew it.

I shake my head and turn to leave.

They don’t even bother to follow me out.

I manage to keep my composure all the way back to the car, but only by refusing to meet anyone’s eye.

I think I might vomit.

Pop let me believe that I actually had a say in what was going on, that I had some control over my life, my future. I don’t know who I hate more right now—my father, or my husband.

“Where are we going?” Gino asks, his voice worried, as I slide into the back seat of the town car.

I put my hand to my forehead. “Home,” I say, then realize I don’t even know where home is anymore.

Married for three days, and my life is a wreck.

But Gino takes me at my word, and all too soon, we’re pulling into the garage of the Beneventi mansion.

I don’t know what I’m going to say, but as soon as I get out of the town car, I realize that I have to confront Lorenzo.

I make my way to our suite, determined to come up with the perfect words, the absolute most vicious, cutting remarks I can devise by the time he gets home—only to discover when I arrive in our suite that the shower is running. Lorenzo is already there.

I don’t give myself time to overthink it. Instead, I slam open the bathroom door, ready to lay into him, determined to make him feel as awful as I feel.

That’s when I hear him moaning my name.

CHAPTER18

LORENZO

After learning everything I can about Rossi’s willingness to use Gia for his own ends, I head back home, where Susan tells me Gia has gone out to meet her girlfriends for lunch.

She has her bodyguard with her. He’s well trained, so I’m less worried than I might be otherwise. Besides, El Toro’s men won’t hit the Vegas airport for another hour, according to Max’s message.

I make my way up to our shared suite, but everything about it reminds me of my new bride. Even though she’s only been here for three days, it even smells like her.

Am I fooling myself by thinking I can have it all—that I can destroy Edoardo and keep Gia?

With a frustrated growl, I run my hands through my hair.

I feel like a horny teenager, unable to control my response to this one woman.

So I do what sometimes worked to cool my lust when I was that age.

I decide to take a cold shower.

But that doesn’t work, either. Instead, I find myself turning up the temperature of the water, stroking myself as I think of her, of our wedding night, of the way it felt to slide inside her.

I wrap my cock in my fist, imagining that it’s her, and just as I say her name aloud, the bathroom door slams open.

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