“And when does my get-out card expire?” she asks in a lamenting tone, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why?” I ask her, cocking a brow at her with incredulity. “Want to use it already?”
“No, you asshole, I want to know when you can stop holding it over my fucking head.” She scowls at me, her eyes glowering with anger. “Now deflate the ego, calm your temper, and fucking drive, Dante.”
I remain unmoved but offer one more question. “I can take it away now if that’s what you want?”
“Then do that!” she roars, throwing her arms up in the air. “Don’t give me a fucking chance to run away. If you want to drag me down with you, then just fucking do it. I can’t be dealing with the games that go with it. I’m stupid, I’m deaf, I’m whatever you want me to be, but don’t be like all the other men in my life who have treated me as if I’m not capable. Don’t treat me as if I’m going to fucking crack and break, as if I’m not worth the leap of faith. Be different and have a little faith in me without even knowing all that much about me.”
I notice the ebb of desperation that resonates in her tone. She’s almost diluted the rife fury in the air, bringing us back down to a new level of understanding. I see her chest heave on heated breaths, and she looks almost exasperated. There’s a lot to this woman I don’t know, and while I’ll take pleasure in breaking her down piece by beautiful piece, I know she won’t be an easy feat.
“I’ll leave it on the table until midnight,” I mutter, twisting back to face the steering wheel, preparing to continue our journey. “After tonight, it’s gone.”
“Whatever,” she murmurs, carelessly. “I won’t need it.”
“We’ll see,” I tell her, putting my foot on the gas to accelerate. “You want me to do my worst. It’s all about to begin when you set foot outside of this car again.”
Deliberate silence settles among us. Neither of us speaks; it’s just the sound of the engine, my rampant thoughts, and our breathing that filters into the space. I’m pleased when I notice The Den creeping into view, and I see the parking lot is full already.
“We’re here.”
I shut the engine off and get out. I don’t tell her to follow; I expect her to. I go and stand at the front of my Ferrari and wait for her to catch up. When she reaches my side, I look down at her as she eyes the place up. There’s not much to The Den from the outside; it’s out of town and a little derelict, but it’s what goes on inside that gives it its reputation.
“You’re my girl in there, okay?” I tell her, placing a rough hand on her arm to pull her close. “If anyone asks who you’re with, you tell them you’re with me.”
“Didn’t realize we were taking the relationship to another level,” she mocks, causing my hand to tighten.
“It’s for your own protection, so don’t get too fucking excited, little wolf.” I narrow my gaze, darkening the moment. “You’ll do good to brandish my name around like a fucking weapon. You got it?”
“I got it,” she growls, shaking her arm to loosen my hold. “Now, quit manhandling me.”
I release her but remain close. The moment we make it into the club, I know she’ll be easily taken from my side, but I won’t let that happen. Men will think she’s anyone’s for the taking, but she’s far from that. I’m a greedy man, and I won’t share what is mine. It’s why I walk slightly behind her, keeping her close as we close in on the door. I nod at the doorman, Barney, as he opens and holds the door for us. I watch the look he gives Ryleigh, and I smirk at the way he ogles her. I know I’m going to take great fucking delight in parading her around. As we enter, the noise is loud and I sense how unsettled Ryleigh becomes. My little wolf becomes apprehensive to walk any further, so I place my hand around her arm and force her to move forward.
I spot Amelia sitting at the bar, laughing away with her brother, Enzo. She looks as regal as ever, enjoying the life she secretly hates. I know Amelia well enough to know she’ll put on a class act, draw people in, and never let her guise slip. When away from the prying eye, she’s merely just a pussycat with a foul mouth and a temper.
I lead Ryleigh toward the bar because she’s unassuming right now. Men eye fuck her, women watch her, but she just sticks to my side, not knowing she’s about to meet her newest enemy.
“Amelia,” I speak, announcing that I’m behind her.
Twisting on her stool, Amelia looks at me, grinning brightly, but then her lips uncurl and her head drops to the side. She looks past me and straight at Ryleigh. Slipping from her seat, Amelia steps forward without a welcome and places a hand on my shoulder. She uses me to lean against, my back to Ryleigh, forcibly kept in place as she studies the girl I’ve taken on as a conquest.
"So, is this her?” Amelia asks, looking up with a curt look pinched onto her face. “Not what I was expecting...”
"Play nice," I muse, warning Amelia to tone it down. "Don't want to scare away the fresh meat before you've even met her."
“If, by her, you mean Ryleigh then yes, I am her," Ryleigh’s voice breaks the bitchy moment between Amelia and me.
I turn around, forcing Amelia from me, and meet Ryleigh’s defiant expression, but I see that she senses that Amelia is trouble. I scoff, bemused by Ryleigh's undying need to be here. However, the look Ryleigh fixes me with causes my laughter to cease.
“Little wolf,” I begin, taking a gradual step forward. “Meet Amelia Abbiati,” I say, introducing Amelia. Gently, I place a hand on Amelia’s lower back and push her forward. “Man’s greatest confidante. Salvatore Abbiati’s secret weapon. The woman you do not want to hate.”
“Why ever would she hate me?” Amelia asks, plying me with an innocent voice. “I only bite if it’s necessary.” Amelia tips her head; she’s being playful, but really she’s trying to psych Ryleigh out. “I have no reason to bite, do I?”
“No,” Ryleigh comments sweetly, giving Amelia an equal dose of attitude. “But if you keep looking at me like I’m some worthless piece of trash, then I might find a reason to.”
“Oh!” Amelia almost squeals in delight. “The little bitch has some feisty attitude in her. Do you realize who you’re talking to?”
“Clearly not,” Ryleigh replies. Although she’s being stupidly blasé, she’s remaining sweet. “I’m not here to make friends.”
“Well, that’s a good thing,” Amelia strikes back, her tone becoming vicious. “No one here is stupid enough to give you the time of day. I’m struggling to understand why my boy even looked twice at a two-bit whore like yourself.” Amelia looks at me. While I give her a death glare, she fixes me with a look of curiosity. “Well?” she asks, pushing me. “What entered your mind picking this one up?”
“She wanted to join the dark side,” I say, shrugging. “We’re having a bit of fun along the way.”
“She’ll be your downfall,” Amelia bites spitefully.
“Amelia,” I sigh, putting my hand on hers. “I know what I’m doing. Please, just don’t second-guess me.”
“People like her don’t belong in our world.”
I can see that I won’t be able to sit with both of them, so I sigh heavily. This is why I don’t do relationships – women are infuriating creatures! I know Amelia was game to show Ryleigh how women are in this world, but I didn’t expect an instant dislike.
“We’ll see,” I placate, my voice sounding hoarse. “I’ll come back in a bit.” I kiss Amelia on the check, shake Enzo’s hand, and turn to Ryleigh. “You’re coming with me,” I warn her, taking her roughly by the elbow. “I’ll have drinks brought over to us.”
When we’re out of the way, Ryleigh shakes me off.
“Why don’t you treat me like you do her?” Ryleigh is quick to ask. “You’re attentive to her, you give a fucking damn, and then you turn to face me like I’m someone you hate with everything you have.”
I watch sadness snake into her eyes, but she smothers it quickly. I sigh, knowing she would notice how I am with Amelia and how it differs from how I am with her
. It wasn’t even a lengthy meeting, but my tone is softer and my gestures tame where Amelia is concerned. I have no need to terrify her, to make her cower to me, because this life binds us. Ryleigh needs to see that.
“This is what you don’t understand,” I say, pausing to calm myself from the growing agitation that is filtering into my system. “I am as I am with her because she is what I am. It’s easy to love her.”
“And I’m trying to be like you, so you’ll just notice me!”
My heart cramps and while I hate the feeling, I realize that Ryleigh is becoming a desperate woman chasing a man she’ll never have. It’s with every passing second that I see that. We’re both standing here for two totally different reasons, and I feel like I’m getting in too deep. I wanted to strike while the iron was still hot and wanted to make her loathe me, but so far, she only becomes more enamored with my existence.
When did this all get so complicated?
I have never struggled to make men tremble with fear just by my mere presence, but Ryleigh is proving to be stronger than most men I have met – which both turns me on and scares me.
“Oh, Ryleigh, I notice you,” I tell her, a tender hand claiming the side of her face. “But I'm just not in the habit of making love stories. Not with her, not with you, not with anyone. Amelia Abbiati is like my better half. She knows every deep, dark recess of me and likewise, has some only I know. Our friendship is based on the equality and sanctuary that we both know we can provide.”
“You do know that other people can offer you that, too?” she asks me, bitterness aids the question. “Not just her.”
“Be honest with me,” I say, watching her gaze settle on me. “What is it that you want out of this?”
I watch her bite her lip, the plumpness pushing around her teeth as she sits anxiously before me.
“Ryleigh...” I push.
“I just want a chance to feel.”
Her response knocks the wind out of me. She wants to feel? Is that it? She won’t leave me now, but I can’t make her feel all the things she’s hoping to. I have no fucking idea what she’s hoping to feel, but I know what I have to do. I have to stay true to myself. I can’t let her override my senses, weaken me, but if she wants to feel, I’ll make it so.
“Then so be it,” I retort, forcing a new harshness to lash into every syllable. My sympathetic nature ends now for tonight. She is struggling with my inability to care for her as I do Amelia. “But I’m not sure what I’ll make you feel is what you’re after. You said no to your get-out card after this point, you’ll have no say in leaving.”
“I don’t care,” she says so simply that it rocks me to the core.
This girl is willing to follow me to hell and not regret a single step – yet, anyway.
“Here’s your man, boss,” Georgio declares, presenting me with the bastard I’ve been watching for a while. “Sorry to interrupt, but Enzo Abbiati told me you were back here.”
“That’s fine,” I say, casting my gaze upon the beaten mess that Georgio struggles to hold up. “You did well bringing him to me so quickly.” I turn to look at Ryleigh. “Now, you get to see what it is I do,” I tell Ryleigh, standing up straighter. “Watch closely, little wolf, because this is the real me... you’ll do good to get ready to meet him properly.”
She doesn’t look away. If anything, I see a stealthy, defiant look reinforce her beautiful features as she watches me take command. I feel empowered by the way she watches me. I want to be stronger under her gaze and show her that I am a force to be reckoned with in my line of work.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” I declare, following my men out to the center of the room. Everyone stops to look at me and I smirk evilly. “Take a look at the man before us...” I say, ordering my men to release the bastardo. They do so and I take a step closer. “Many of you must have heard of the Kozlov ring.” I look around, watching men stand straighter with interest. “Well, I bring you the leader of said family. My men have worked hard to bring him out of his little shithole so he can be made an example of!”
“What you going to do with him, boss?” Georgio asks, coming back to my side.
“Touch me and I’ll make sure you’re a dead man walking,” I listen to the man remark, his Russian accent hindering his words.
“I already am!” I declare, swinging a clenched fist around to hit him square on the jaw. As he falls, I follow him. My fist breaks the bone in his cheek, forcing him to realize he never should’ve spoken back to me.
While the crowd choruses together, each and every one knows what Viktor Kozlov has been running, but I take a moment to look up at Ryleigh. She’s hell-bent on keeping her eyes fixed on me, but she’s nervous at the animal that just came out. Good, the vile snake mutters in me. She needs to see me like this, see me stripped back to the man I was brought up to be.
“I think castration is the only way forward,” I announce, drawing back after pummeling my fists into his face. I see the shock and terror claim him. “Don’t look like that. If you want to run a pedophile ring in my town, then you’ll get what’s due.” I stand up straight, reaching into my inner pocket to withdraw the switchblade I keep there. I roll it around in my palm, feeling its weight just before I press the release button and watch as the knife slides out. I turn to Georgio, elated at his triumphant capture. “You caught him, Georgio, so you can have the honor,” I announce, but I see he doesn’t look too sure.
“What?” he asks, looking grief-stricken.
“What?” I retort, mocking him. “I want you to castrate the bastardo.” The look of shock filters onto my man’s face, and I feel my blood boil. I strive to take on the toughest of men and moments like that help me whittle them away – Georgio will be next, apparently. “Fine,” I growl, walking over to Daniels, who’s cowering before me. “You won’t fucking take a gift then you can hold him.” I look at Georgio, and apparently, the look on my face is enough to have him scurrying toward me. “I need somebody to hold his legs down.”
“No!” Viktor shouts, screaming out as two men obey my orders. “Don’t do this!” he yells as I cut into the cheap material of his pants and rip upwards.
I don’t care how rough I’m being, I’ve waited for this moment, and I’m going to leave a lasting reminder. As I pierce his boxers with the knife, I rear up, looking at the crowd in front of me.
“Whoever comes and holds this fucker’s cock will get themselves ten grand in their hand tonight... no questions asked.”
Like fuck I’m going to hold his cock in my hands. I just want to be the one who maims him for life.
The next thing I know, Grant, one of the men who runs this place, is on the floor ripping Viktor’s clothes apart even more and then the opportunity is finally upon us. I look at Georgio as he holds Viktor around the chest. While he looks terrified, wide eyes flicking back between the glistening blade and me, I realize I’m disappointed that the one man I had such high hopes for is now a disappointment to me.
“You need to learn, Georgio, and I’d rather you learn from me than Marcello. No matter how loud he screams, you don’t ever stop cutting.” I narrow my gaze, even stilling my blade just before this cunt’s cock to prolong Viktor’s agony. I look past the panicking man and at my worker. “And when you’re given an opportunity to prove yourself to a man like me, you fucking take it because it’ll secure your future beautifully... don’t ever decline a job I give you again!”
It’s with that piece of advice that I take my first attack with the blade. I swing the razor edge against Viktor’s penis, and he howls with pain as the blood flows free. I was hoping I could take it off with one swift hit, but after three more attempts, it finally comes away. The moment Grant is left holding the man’s dismembered cock, I stand up, wipe my blade along my leg to clean it of blood, and then do the same with my hands.
“Dump him outside of their fucking playground,” I order as I step away, realizing I need to clean up massively now. “I want him to be a lesson to the rest of them. They wil
l get their comeuppance one by one. Make sure his cock is on him, too.” I watch my men nod, obeying my words. “And whatever you do, don’t let the fucking cunt bleed out before you get him there.”
I have been bred for a lifetime of bloodlust. That is the brutal fault of my family, and I've come to terms with it. I am prepared to drown in a blood sea because if I have nothing else in this world, at least I can say people feared me. Since the day I lost everything, I was never destined to be a good man, so I never strived for it. Instead, I allowed my grandfather's teachings to take over and I became a monster. I complete my dastardly deeds with blood and fear – the more, the merrier.
However, as I turn to face Ryleigh, I don’t see fear crippling her. Disbelief consumes her beauty, smothered with heated alarm, but there’s no terror to her. Not even as she looks at me. I wanted her to run, to regret this, but instead, she’s still fucking standing there, watching me intently.
Even as I start advancing toward her, she doesn’t even flinch.
I hate the way my heart changes from a slow thud to a rhythmic pitter-patter. I try to tell myself she means nothing to me, but how can that be when I feel so enthused when she's near me? I shake the thoughts away, forcing myself to remember what my goal is here. I need to forget about temporary feelings and remember my long-term goal. She wants to follow me around; I need to scare her off. My first round didn’t work, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.
“You should run while you have the chance, little wolf.”
“I don’t want to,” she replies, defiant as always.
“Why?” I ask her, confused and perplexed by her stupidity. “This will end you.”
She hardens her gaze on me, not willing to back down. “No, it won’t.” I watch her eyes fall to my hands, looking at the blood that stains in vehement crimson gore. “You’re a stupid man,” she tells me, not caring for the insult she casts my way as she looks back up. “Everything you do doesn't beat what I’ve already seen. When will you learn that?”
“I won’t,” I retort, my words fierce. “I won’t ever learn that because what I do with my free time will be something you’ll never forget. It’ll have you questioning your sanity, make you beg for mercy, and cause you to hate every fiber in my being.”
Trigger (Pericolo #3) Page 9
