Page 32 of Made to Sin

No.

The last time I listened to the hopeless romantic inside, look at where it got me. Marco and Luciano were different, sure, but it didn’t mean I could trust him either. Luciano was also a cold-hearted Made Man who did things for his own benefit. He worked with my abusive husband while preaching for an organization against violence for goodness’ sake. Just because he didn’tscrew me over the first chance he got didn’t mean he wasn’t going to.

“What do you want for your favor?” I asked, breaking the silence. When he got what he wanted from me, it would end whatever games we were playing, and we would go back to pretending each other didn’t exist.

Was it the best idea to let him decide my fate? No, but it would ease the prickling sensation under my skin to get it over with.

Luciano threw his cigarette down and stubbed it with his shoe. “What makes you think I want it now?”

The question caught me by surprise. Normally, people accept when someone who owes them a favor asks what they want. Never mind, that was where my mistake started. Luciano Beneveti wasnota normal person.

“Well, so I can get it done with. You can stop doing nice stuff for me, and I won’t be a hassle for you anymore. That way, we can both leave each other alone and live peacefully apart.”

He roamed my face, searching for something I couldn’t pinpoint. I was uncomfortable with his inquisitive scrutiny, shifting on my heels to avoid saying something about it.

When his gaze returned to mine, I noticed the subtly hidden conflict behind his eyes. Finally letting me out of the silent misery, he rasped, “I’ll let you know when I want it.”

I frowned, not expecting the response. I thought he would have jumped on the boat as soon as I told him we could leave each other’s lives after the favor was over. Instead, I was stuck with it above my head for as long as he wanted to drag it on.

“Wait, why not now?”

“I’ll let you know when I want it,” he repeated dryly.

I opened my mouth to explain more in case he misunderstood my offer, but the bored look on his face told me he comprehended everything fine, and I was wasting his time.

“Okay…” I mumbled, not sure what to say from there.

“Okay,” he repeated.

Though it wasn’t endearing in the slightest, a small part of me wondered if that meant he enjoyed having me around. I made it clear I was willing to do whatever he had planned, so he didn’t need to do anything more. Yet he passed up the chance, letting me bother him for another day.

Nope, you’re being crazy, Katarina. Again, time to leave.

Listening to my own advice, I crushed the reckless thought, spun on my heels— literally with these boots— and left. I didn’t know where I was going as long as it was away from him.

God, how did he manage to make me feel on edge even if he was standing still? The devil truly worked in mysterious ways.

—

I had made it a few feet from Luciano when an unfamiliar man fell into step with me. “Hey cowgirl, I don’t think we’ve met. Want to give my horse a ride?”

I closed my eyes, the regret of letting Maria talk me out of changing sunk at double its force. Why did she think it was okay to let me out in public looking the way that I did? Her calling me a hooker should’ve been the first sign to run upstairs.

I sidestepped him. The guy must have been a new recruit to flirt with a don’s wife. “Sorry, I’m not interested.”

He stepped in front of me again, not getting the hint. “You didn’t even give me a chance.”

Clenching my teeth, I specifically made it jarring that I was moving away from him this time. With more than an arm’s length between us, I repeated my rejection. “I said I’m not interested.”

He cut me off mid-step and held me harshly by the arms, becoming aggressive. “Who do you think you’re talking to? You’re nothing more than a good whore, so act like it.”

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, I was the whore for not wanting to entertain him. Could he be any more creative with his insults?

Not wanting to make a commotion, I chose to ignore it and yanked my arm away.

Like most jerks, he held on.

“Let go of me,” I gritted.

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