Page 184 of The Consequences of Love and Vengeance

I don’t dare turn my head. The look in his eyes is telling me that’s the last move I want to make right now.

It’s when the person behind me grabs my second arm, yanking it down and locking the cuff tightly around my wrist that I smell the heavy perfume. The same scent I smelled less than an hour ago when Chasity sat next to me at the nail salon.

It was brief, but I remember it.

Shit. I’m a fucking idiot. I fell for her bullshit and look where I am now.

“So much for you being tired of people thinking you’re dumb.”

“Oh, no.” She snickers, then stands. “That part was true. It’s just that I’m not dumb enough to cross Sebastian.”

“Go handle that crying little bastard. I’m sick of hearing that noise,” Diaz orders.

“Why do I have to do it? Don’t you pay people to deal with him?” Chasity whines.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to remain silent.

“Because he’s yours. Deal with the problem or I will.”

She huffs, stalking off.

“I’m curious,” I mention, needing to draw him into a conversation to give Eric more time to get here. Hopefully, he is already here, and he’s out there working out a plan to take Diaz down. At this point, I don’t care if it’s me or someone else who takes the shot as long as the end result is the same.

I should feel guilty for that thought, but I don’t. All I see is hatred and an aching need to end the life of the scumbag that took from Drago and me.

“Fine.” He lets out a heavy breath, staring down at me. The gun in his hand hangs down at his side, pointing at the ground. Mine isn’t in sight, so it must be tucked into his pants at the back. “I’ll entertain one question, cop, but only one.”

“If you have access to this port then why do you need Drago?”

Why go to all the trouble with a man who wants nothing to do with this life? If anything, forcing a man like Drago could get him caught or killed. So, why bother?

“Redundancy, of course. And well, even I’m not dumb enough to cross Vincent like your man is.”

Vincent Acerbi scares him.

I didn’t think it was possible to frighten a man like Sebastian Diaz, but apparently, it is.

What does that say about Drago’s father then?

Is he still running things from Italy?

Drago mentioned those discrepancies in his logs, but with all that’s happened, and not happened between us, I don’t know if he ever found out what they were. It’s possible it could be his father.

“How did Drago cross his father?”

“You talk too much. From here on out, you need to realize that mouth of yours is only for sucking my dick—or screaming.”

He smiles, but instead of it making him look more appealing, it has the opposite effect. All I see is the evil that resides within those dark eyes.

“And there will be a lot of screaming; probably not the good kind you’re used to, though.”

I picture Drago and me in my mind. He made me scream a lot the other night, all of it so good. But for whatever his reason, it must not have meant as much to him as our time together did to me. I shove the longing back, not needing it to surface now, or ever if I can help it.

“What the hell is she doing here?” I turn my head. Houston stands stock still thirty feet away from us. “She’s seen me now.”

“Calm your shit, or I’ll put a bullet through your mouth and do it for you. She”—he steps forward, yanking on my hair and jerking my head backward—“won’t ever see the light of day again. She’s mine now.”

Diaz’s sardonic laugh rings through my ear.

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