I brought my mouth to hers, capturing her lip between my teeth this time.
“Annnnd,” she dragged out the word as I released her lip, “I think I might come.” Her hands went to my shoulders, and she tipped her chin to the ceiling, eyes squeezing tight.
“Look at me,” I commanded, needing to see her eyes when she orgasmed. I searched for her gaze as she slowly lowered her face. “Don’t come yet.” I wedged my hand between our tight bodies and slipped a palm down the inside of her leggings. And holy hell, she was wet.
She shrieked at my touch, her breathing intensifying, but she maintained eye contact.
“Now. Come all over my hand.”
Her body shuddered, and she held on to me tighter than ever before. So tight, it was as if she’d never let go. And God help me, I hoped this time I wouldn’t lose her again. I’d never survive the loss. And I’d breach the doors of heaven to get her if I had to. I’d walk through the fiery gates of hell if another cocksucker like Luca ever tried to steal her from me again.
“Alessia?” I said after her body had sagged with the relief of being satiated from an orgasm. “I think we broke your rule of waiting.”
* * *
I returned earlier than I’d expected. Sebastian and I had managed to take down both arms dealers, and it’d been a productive evening.
It was midnight, so Alessia was probably asleep. I did my best to quietly enter the suite. Her bedroom door was shut, but there was no light showing from underneath. Since I’d been staying with her, she’d always slept with a light on.
There hadn’t been a nightmare in two nights, which was progress.
I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter, the memory of the morning catapulting back to mind. The feel of her trembling in my arms when she’d orgasmed.
Let me get you off, too. It’s only fair, she’d offered.
I’ll wait, I’d said. I need you. All of you. But only when you’re ready. Those hadn’t been easy words to deliver since I wanted to ravage every part of her. I’d immediately gone to my bedroom and jerked the feck off after she left for the gym to meet with Emilia—to hell with my meeting.
Alessia’s perfume caught my nose as I set my jacket on the yellow wingback chair. The fact that the scent still lingered in the air made me nervous. Had she just gotten back? And where had she been? With the stronger presence of one of the most powerful Russian mobs in the world in my town, I didn’t like the idea of her out in the city at night.
I went to her bedroom and slowly turned the knob. I needed to set eyes on her. To know she was safe and asleep.
The bed was empty, and that bad feeling magnified.
I grabbed my mobile and dialed her.
No answer.
I called Emilia next, and she answered on the third ring. “Hey.”
“You with Alessia? She’s not here.”
“Yes.”
That little word allowed me to breathe again, and I dropped my forehead to my palm in relief.
“Where are you?” I listened closely. A lot of indistinct background noise.
“She needed a girls’ night. She’s strung pretty tight.”
I’d hoped her orgasm this morning would have helped a bit, but I guess she was worse off than she was letting me believe.
“I’ll have her back at the hotel soon. You have a big day tomorrow. Focus on that.”
Was Emilia serious right now?
“You need not worry,” she said in her typical no-nonsense tone I’d come to know so well from her, then the line went dead.
But there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d let this go.
And also, I had a feeling I knew where they were, but it made absolutely no sense, especially after my recent warning about the Petrovs.
But the background noise . . . were they at a casino?
And maybe I was crazy, maybe I was being irrational, but I couldn’t shake the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, especially hearing what sounded like muffled Russian being spoken.
There were several casinos in Dublin, but I had to make sure Emilia and Alessia weren’t at the one owned by the Petrovs.
Chapter Twenty-One
Alessia
“I have to admit I didn’t think you’d show up. You’ve taken a bit of the fun out of chasing after you.” Adrian’s voice was deep and rang with authority.
What choice did I have? “Your men gave me such an intriguing invitation,” I said softly, thinking back to his associates who’d demanded my presence at this meeting, a meeting I knew was bound to happen, I’d just never expected it to happen like this.
There was so much I needed to tell Adrian. So much to explain.
“Can I have my necklace back?” It was worth a shot.
Adrian clasped his hands on top of the table. An unsettling, wicked gleam in his green eyes. His silence meant to scare me, I supposed.
“Please. It’s important, and I need it back.” I held my palm outstretched and focused on keeping my hand steady.
“I was trying to figure out how a woman like you would be able to kill my cousin,” Adrian began, his green eyes sweeping over my fitted black dress that stopped well above my knees, then on to my strappy black heels, “but you have quite the pair on you, I see.” He smirked at his double entendre. “Sit.” He motioned for me to slide into the horseshoe-shaped booth across from him.
We were in the bar area off to the side of the slot machines and craps tables, in the very casino Cole and my brother had been in last week. The ding-ding-ding of someone hitting all 7s at the slot not far away faded into the background when I took a seat.
Guilt rushed through me like a tidal wave. Had I not been sitting, my knees would’ve buckled.
I looked around the room, searching for Emilia. A touch of comfort filled me at the sight of her standing at the bar across the room, the roulette tables the only thing between us.
I returned my attention to Adrian, who was in the middle of bringing a tumbler of clear liquid to his lips with one hand and brushing his brownish-blond hair away from his forehead with the other. There was an eerie similarity between Adrian and his cousin Dimitri—same green eyes, full beard, mid-thirties. It was unsettling, a stab in the chest.
After my confrontation with Petrov’s men on Saturday, I’d had a meltdown, shaking and sobbing. But it had nothing to do with the damage to my body and everything to do with the internal scars I wore every day.
“How’d you know about the necklace?” I had a guess, but I wanted confirmation. Luca clearly assumed that as soon as I was rescued, the Celtic cross would make its way back around my neck where it belonged.
“The package unexpectedly delivered to my uncle’s home mentioned its significance to you, my cousin’s killer.” His words breezed my way almost too gently as if he preferred a slow buildup before a knock-out punch.
“And your uncle believes I murdered his son because of the information contained in this package?” I brought my hands to my lap to steady them and hide how nervous I was. I had to follow Emilia’s plan and hope to hell it’d work. “I heard he was abducted and murdered eight months ago by one of your rival gangs in Moscow.”
This was most likely Luca’s last attempt to stick it to Sebastian. To me. To get his revenge from behind bars.
Emilia believed Luca was also out to destroy The League for denying him a leadership position.
I should have expected this from Luca, such an elaborate setup and plan. But he went two months without harming me. Months lulling me into a false sense of security that I was safe.
In that time, I’d been trying to figure out how I’d explain to the Petrovs the truth of what happened inside the prison without getting myself killed. It appeared Luca just escalated my timeline.
“The murder weapon was also in that box. It had your prints. My cousin’s blood on it. A note he died a few months ago, not eight months ago.” He paused. “I am also trying to figure out how you were afforded the opportunity to kill Dimitri. And why, of course.”
His voice wasn’t icy cold, but it wasn’t exactly beachy warm.
“You’re not questioning if it’s true? You’re not wondering if the package was a hoax?” I challenged, even though I did want to share the truth at some point. But with Maxim and no one else.
He leaned back in the booth, adjusted the collar of his black dress shirt, and set his drink down. The tattoo on the top of his left hand matched the one Dimitri had. Petrov was derived from the name Peter, and Dimitri had said every member wore Peter the Great’s Russian coat of arms, the family crest, on the top of their hand. I doubted they were related to the famous Russian, but that ink was recognizable to any criminal, and they’d know to be wary.
“Why not just kill me if you assume I’m guilty, then?” I asked when he didn’t respond to my other question.
“Because my uncle wants answers, and given who you are—”
“Not looking to start a war with The League?” I boldly finished his words for him, standing my ground even though it was as if I were floundering in quicksand.
“You co-own hotels, a restaurant, and a club with the former League leader of Ireland, Sebastian Renaud. You have been seen out with the new leader, Cole McGregor. It is our assumption you’re his new lover,” he quickly explained, his English quite flawless. “Your association with The League is obvious, and we are taking that into consideration with how we are dealing with you.” He paused. “But no order of protection where you are concerned will keep you safe from punishment for what you have done.” He snapped his fingers, and three men started for the table. Three armed men. Their weapons were tucked in the front of their pants. Hands resting on the butts of the guns in case I were to resist.
“What about Sebastian and what he did for . . .” I let go of my words as my heart pushed into my throat at the unexpected sight—at the man tearing through the room and straight toward me. He looked invincible. Threatening and powerful. Like the devil himself.
My brother had truly converted him to a leader, hadn’t he?
I focused back on Adrian and rushed out, “I didn’t tell him I was here. I promise.”
Adrian pulled his eyes away from Cole and pinned me with a glare. “And I am to believe you?”
“Yes. He’s not involved in this, and I don’t want him to be.” I hid the alarm in my voice the best I could.
“Alessia, are you okay?” I felt Cole’s presence before I even heard his words.
“We were just enjoying a friendly chat.” Adrian tipped his head to the side. He knew Cole was untouchable, but the Petrovs didn’t care about my status, not in light of the fact I killed Dimitri.
I took Cole’s hand and stood, my eyes falling to our clasped palms, and I hoped my legs wouldn’t wobble. I was unable to look him in the eyes, though. How would I ever explain this? “I was playing poker, and he invited me for a drink.” Those words burned like something fierce as I said them.
Cole positioned himself in front of me, using his body as a shield when Adrian stood, their heights matched at over six feet. “Alessia Romano is under League protection. Do you understand me?”
The power of The League was written all over him right now. In his taut muscles. His stance. The grit and edge in his voice.
The man reeked of danger, and everyone in the entire casino had eyes on us. Their attention fixed our way, not out of fear, but as if ready to place bets on a possible matchup between the Petrovs and The League.
“I didn’t even know her name,” Adrian coolly responded with a lie. “Just a friendly chat. We can talk at a better time.”
He was making it clear that this wasn’t over. Not even close.
“You ever have another friendly chat with her, and you’ll be starting a war with The League. Got it?” Cole’s words were laced with anger. A fiery bite that left marks even on me.
“I hear you loud and clear, McGregor,” Adrian said with a cocksure attitude. “I suggest you leave now. The manager of the casino may have struck a deal with you, but you have no deal with me.”
“This isn’t over,” Cole snapped.
“I believe you’re right about that.” Adrian sat back down and unbuttoned his suit jacket while his three men flanked the booth where he sat, a warning he was off-limits.
“Come on.” Cole shook his head when he spotted Emilia. “What in the hell were you thinking bringing her here?” he asked as we exited the room, lightly maintaining hold of my arm as if worried I wouldn’t leave.
I had no idea how we were going to explain ourselves out of this mess. Maybe we should take the risk and tell the truth?
Emilia would have never given up our location, so I had no idea how he found me. We were too close to my goal, a face-to-face with Adrian’s uncle, Maxim Petrov. A chance to explain myself. To make a proposal.
“Tell me what happened.” Cole’s hands rested on his hips as he stood in front of his sleek black sports car once we were outside.
“Is that blood?” I asked in surprise at the smudge of red on his neck above his dress shirt.
He slapped a palm to his neck as if to conceal the evidence. “Not mine,” he grumbled. “Now tell me what’s going on. The truth.”
“The casino was my idea.” Emilia stepped in front of him, drawing his focus her way. “We’d gone dancing at a club nearby. We had some drinks. Felt like gambling. It was convenient.”
“You think I’m an idiot?” Cole barked out. “You know the Russians run that place. And after warning you about Adrian Petrov last night, you just happen to run into the man and have a nice little chat?” Cole was on the verge of breaking a blood vessel, and I didn’t blame him. He looked really, really mad.
“The man was flirting, and Alessia didn’t want to be rude, so she sat with him. She had no idea he was Adrian Petrov.”
He drew my eyes and my breath, before moving his angry stare to Emilia. “Were you fishing for information? To find out why he was really here?”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It was my idea. I knew how worried you were about the Petrovs and a possible connection to Luca, and I thought maybe we could get him to open up.”
My eyes widened at her words. Even if Cole believed her, well, he’d still lose his mind.
“If you two ever want to be together,” Emilia said while pointing her focus Cole’s way, “we need to ensure Luca’s not involved, am I right?” She continued to push the lie, and I was growing sick. Dizzy. “Alessia needs to heal. She’s stronger than you think, but you must stop treating her like a breakable doll. She must stand up to anything and anyone that scares her to—”
Cole stepped directly in front of her. “Are you out of your damn mind?”
I grabbed hold of his arm, not wanting him at war with Emilia. “She’s trying to help.”
He glimpsed me from over his shoulder. “And you think putting yourself in danger with the most powerful mob in the world is a grand feckin’ idea?” He faked a laugh, his anger boiling to the point of no return. “I don’t want you anywhere near Alessia!” he ordered, eyes back on the one person I was relying on with my very life right now. “You’re dangerous. A loose cannon.” He leaned in closer to her, but Emilia remained tall, confident. Her chin lifted, eyes holding his.
“You’re the one who cannot see past your love for her to know what is best, and it’s why she’s come to me for help.” That perfect-pitched, low and matter of fact tone wasn’t present now. Instead, a touch of pain cut through her words. A small sign of vulnerability.
Her comment had me letting go of Cole and backing up a step.
There was a firestorm on the horizon.
“Get out of here,” he seethed in a low, growly voice. “I can’t even look at you.”
“Please, it’s not her fault.” I forced myself back into their conversation, needing to stand up for Emilia. “She’s doing what I asked. Helping me. Please, don’t fight.”
Emilia held both palms in the air in surrender, her eyes connecting with mine as she lightly nodded, a quick signal to
back off. But how could I let her take the blame for this? Put two League leaders at odds with each other?
“You could have gotten her killed. Do you understand that?” Cole inched closer to Emilia, and she remained in place, not backing up despite what must have felt like the charge of a bull. “This isn’t some game. It’s not thera-fecking-peutic to have her chitchat with a mobster.”
“You don’t agree with my methods, but—”
“She was doing what I asked!” I hollered, needing to direct his focus my way. Emilia wasn’t the target. We were on the same side. “Luca destroyed me,” I said, my voice breaking. “He broke me. Changed me forever.” I was crying now, and it was the last thing I wanted. “But now it’s up to me to fight back.” Don’t let him win, the Russian voice—Dimitris’s voice—came to mind. “And Emilia’s giving me the confidence I need to fight off the shadow of Luca’s presence that follows me no matter how much I wish it didn’t.”
Cole abruptly circled his arms around me, bringing my face to his body, and I sobbed into his chest, unable to stop the tears.
The sound of heels on the pavement faded. Emilia was gone.
“I’m so sorry,” he said into my ear a few minutes later once I’d managed to control my tears. And it had taken all my energy to stop crying cold turkey.
“Can we go, please?”
He let go of me and took a step back, shock still in his eyes at my admission, at what he witnessed tonight.
He opened the door for me, but once he was in the driver’s seat, he just sat there, gripping the wheel. Eyes out the front window. “I don’t buy your reasoning for being in there, and if you continue to keep things from me, I’m terrified you’re going to get yourself killed.” He peered my way, eyes dipping to my dress. “And the scars,” he added, his voice nearly hoarse, “please, for the love of God, tell me about the scars.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alessia
Somewhere in Russia – Six Months Ago
The Inside Man: A Dublin Nights Novel Page 20
