Page 80 of Lies like Rubies, Part One

Ah. The stick behind the carrot.Was it actual jealousy or simple possessiveness that drove him to threaten me?

It didn’t matter. I was a threat.

To the scariest Italian motherfucker that ever lived.

I narrowed my eyes as I realized why he was really bringing me in. “You’re afraid you’re going to lose her to me,” I murmured, astounded at my daring.

When he shrugged, his shirt tightened against the muscles of his shoulders and his chest. “She’s with me because I’ve forced her. She’s with you because she wants to be.”

“And you’re afraid you’ll lose her.”

Oscuro’s eyes snapped to mine, so dark they were almost black. “No. She’s mine as long as her daughter is in danger.”

“And after that?”

He shrugged again, avoiding my question. “You have her on my terms, or you don’t have her at all.”

Fucking mafia assholes and their inability to deal with their emotions like adults. Not that I was any better. Instead of realizing how adroitly the men in Sofia’s life had trapped her into an impossible choice, I’d called her nasty names and treated her like shit to make myself feel better about the decisions she made.

Echos of my father and his fists reverberated in my chest. I’d made up my mind a long time ago to be better than him. Sofia told me she needed me to be uncomplicated, and I didn’t listen to her. Now, I was determined to be the man she needed, especially when surrounded by assholes like Oscuro and Accardi.

“I’m not letting her go,” I growled.

“Then come back tomorrow at eight,” Dante said, his voice deceptively casual but his fingers gripping his empty glass so hard they’d turned white.

“Tomorrow at eight,” I agreed.

31

SOFIA

I trembledas I knocked on Dante’s door, terrified of what I’d find on the other side. At this point, his guard was familiar to me, an Italian man who barely spoke English but didn’t blink when I showed up.

At church on Sunday, Dante once again spent the service by my side. Every brush of our bodies sent need crackling up and down my spine. He said very little to me, except to lean down with cruel amusement when it was time to take communion and ask me if I’d confessed what a slut I was.

I had not.

Dante opened the door, freshly showered, dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt he filled out in a way that made me want to peel it off and taste what lay underneath. He stood aside so that I could enter, his face blank, not pressing into my space.

“Hi,” I whispered.

He watched me lazily, like a lion in the sun, predatory, but not ready to strike. “Nervous, kitten?”

Right.The joy for Dante was in breaking down my composure. The only possible answer was, “No, of course not.”

“Let’s see if we can get you there. Strip.”

My core clenched in anticipation. I unzipped my dress and peeled it over my head, revealing gorgeous amethyst lingerie. I continued to dress for seduction, even though I knew I’d only be wearing them for a few moments after I arrived at Dante’s hotel suite. I hated the part of me that ached for his approval, the hidden nooks and crannies of my soul where I was desperate to lose myself in not having to think, in giving up control.

He was right about me. I was a slut for his degradation, and that was as humiliating as everything else about our messed-up relationship.

I reached behind my back to unhook my bra, but Dante was already there, his fingers hot on my skin. “Allow me,” he said, his voice low and seductive. I shivered as he slid the shoulder straps down my arms, then dropped my bra to the floor.

He ran his fingers down my side, then hooked them into my panties and garter belt, pulling them down my legs. He lifted each foot to remove them, carefully supporting me, so I didn’t fall.

Who was this gentle creature?

When I was finally naked, he hummed with satisfaction and then circled around me, examining my body with fierce, hooded eyes.

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