Trigger (Pericolo #3)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  I hear Ryleigh giggle before I sense her moving behind me.

  “It’s my manipulative nature,” she quips, mirthfully. “I know exactly how to get you men on your knees.”

  “Gentlemen,” I start, stealing back their attention. “I guess you better meet Ryleigh, mia regina. Ryleigh, meet the cunts who think they can single-handedly take me down without help.”

  Again, she laughs, stepping beside me.

  “Clyde, what do you think we would get for both of them?” the scarred bastard asks, nudging his friend.

  Oh, how I love dealing with a daring cunt.

  “I reckon Marcello would pay a small fortune,” Clyde replies.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I say and step forward while they again edge back. “Can you give me some details on how you aim to kill us both? It’s just that I get a little, how do I say, irritated when anyone so much as thinks about touching my girl.” I throw my hand up as if to add a dramatic flair, but I keep myself calm and collected. “It’s almost like a red mist takes me over and I completely blackout. I’d just like to be prepared.”

  I get no response, but the scarred fucker moves his jacket. I notice the glint of the barrel to a gun and I’m quick on my feet. My first thought is how I want to make sure Ryleigh is nowhere in the target range. The thought of her taking a bullet sickens me, causing me to die a thousand deaths.

  “Ah, you’re a gunpowder kind of man,” I state, nodding to the gun on his hip.

  “This?” he asks, pulling out his M92 pistol.

  “Yeah,” I say, grinning as if to offer some sort of interest. “Marcello hates quick deaths, mind you,” I comment, observing the matter objectively. “Bloodshed can be achieved, but so can quick deaths. He won’t be happy if you land a bullet between my eyes. And I won’t be happy if you attempt it with Ryleigh.”

  “I don’t really care how you die. I only care that I’ll get some money for it.”

  He now takes an aim and I lunge, grabbing at the cunt by the wrist. I throw his hand up, the bullet firing but going straight for the ceiling instead of a body. Ryleigh screams, but the noise inspires me to end this. I twist his arm, forcing it behind his back and I continue to twist until I hear bones begin to snap. I fold the fucker’s arm further behind him, spinning him in the same second to point the gun at his Clyde. I push his finger down on the trigger, allowing a bullet to hit him square in the chest, forcing him backward.

  I see the knife tucked in the back of his waistband, and while he’s down, screaming in pain over his broken arm, I run the blade across his throat. Blood sprays across the room, and I let go, allowing him to fall to the ground, unable to do a thing as he starts to bleed out.

  Exhilarated and infuriated, my breathing heaves as I look to see if Ryleigh’s okay. She gives me a quick nod and moves backward, allowing me to have complete control over this scene. Usually, she gets a slow ease, but after that gun had gone off, everything gained momentum. I started to walk around the fucker with the scar; he’s now flat on his back, blood spewing into a pool around his head.

  “Your heart’s betraying you at this moment,” I begin to say. “Each fragile beat of your heart is forcing a bit more blood out of your body. Your own traitor buried right in the middle of your chest.” I begin to pull the legs of my pants up, getting ready to spin a tale. “And the whistling noise you hear,” I continue, crouching down beside the dying man, “that’s the sound of your severed windpipe struggling to keep in the air as you breathe. See, in a minute, you’ll lose consciousness, but it’ll take a few more minutes for your brain to completely shut off and allow you to die. Right now, your body is trying to make up for the fact that oxygen is no longer reaching the right side of your brain, so bit by bit, it’s withering and closing down. Soon, it’ll start to stroke out, dying while waiting for oxygen.”

  He doesn’t speak, completely immobile as he watches me.

  “By now, you must be feeling your heart slowing down giving one or two beats a minute max. That’s because it’s trying to preserve as much oxygen as possible, trying in vain to keep you alive as long as possible,” I snigger, tormenting him some more. “The lack of oxygen and the blood loss alone are fatal but paired together like this and you’re looking at a slow, insufferable death.” I reach out, patting my palm against him. “Just how I like it for cunts who try to double-cross me.”

  Standing up, I go over to Clyde. While he’s still alive, he’s looking rather pale. The bullet entered his chest, but that’s survivable. However, he starts to push himself away as I come at him. As he puts his left hand onto the tiled flooring of the restroom, I place my foot on top of it, trapping it beneath my sole. He looks up, eyes so full of fear, but I don’t relent on my wrath.

  “As for you,” I say, brandishing his friend’s blade. “I’m taking a souvenir.”

  With him unable to move, I tear his shirt open, revealing the bullet hole in his chest. He goes to fight so I curl my fist up around the handle of the blade and throw a heavy punch directly onto his chest. It’s not enough to knock him out, but it disorientates him enough.

  I press the tip of the knife into the bullet wound in his chest, cutting into him carelessly. I remove the blade, ignoring the fucker’s cries of pain and push my fingers into the wound. I feel the bullet, accidently knocking it in further as I search blindly for it. However, when I feel my fingertips wrap around it, I tug on it, yanking it from the wound. Blood spurts from the wound as I pull back and stand up once more.

  “C’mon, mia regina, we’re done with this place.”

  “Why did you do that?” Ryleigh asks, crinkling her nose as I come to stand beside her.

  I laugh, holding the impacted bullet up.

  “Marcello wants to run this his way, we’ll play along his way,” I reply, leaning in for a kiss. “He wants to have Tweedledee and Tweedledum running around foretelling my death then he can know how I killed them both.” I wink at her, throwing the bullet in the air and catching it only to encase my hand around it. “I like using props, cara, to do so.”

  “You’re a right sadistic bastard,” she says, shaking her head at me while remaining amused nonetheless.

  I grin wickedly. “Why thank you, little wolf.” I put my arm around her, knowing I’m going to be covering her in blood, but I want her out of here. “Loose lips sink ships,” I tell her, teaching her even more than she knew. “They’re an example of Marcello’s very own teaching.”

  “What are you an example of, then?” Ryleigh asks, ever curious. “You have a bit of his teaching in you.”

  “That’s an easy one to answer,” I start, only pausing to look at Ryleigh before we leave the restroom. “I’m his worst nightmare. What makes it even better is that we’re his hell on earth.”

  Walking back into The Den while music pumps loudly and everyone gets lost in their conversation, I slide the bullet into my jacket pocket, leading Ryleigh away from the door and over to Barney.

  “I know it’s your night off, Barn,” I say, alerting him that I’m behind him.

  “Who did you kill now?” he asks, turning back with a sleek grin on his face. “We can’t take you anywhere.”

  “Some bastard called Clyde and his friend,” I say, pointing over my shoulder. “Came in talking about some plan to kill me for Marcello.”

  Barney winces. “People never learn.”

  “Nope,” I say shaking my head. “I want to get out of here but keep your cell on you. I’ll be having your biggest clean-up op soon. I’ll even be paying you double for it.”

  “Any hints?” he asks, his attention well and truly caught.

  “No,” I say, not giving up anything. “Let’s just say that it’ll rock the Valens.”

  With that, I take Ryleigh and walk her toward the entrance. I turn my head, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple, hugging her tightly into my side as I do so.

  “Soon, mia regina. It’ll be over soon. I’m getting real sick of this life, now.”

  22RYLEIGH

/>   “What are you doing in here?”

  I whisper as I enter a room that I’ve never been in before. I don’t exactly know why I am whispering, but the ominous feeling doesn’t make me feel comfortable. I feel like I’ve entered a church, not wanting to speak too loudly in a place of worship. However, I’m quick to realize we’re in Marcello’s office.

  “Dante?”

  I put my arm out to touch him and he reacts, spinning me until I’m facing back at the door. There’s a predatory look in his eyes and I feel myself moisten, unable to deny the desire that swirls up around me like a tiny fire, waiting to consume.

  He pushes me against the desk, closing in only to grab at my thighs and force me to sit on the high desktop. The tight skirt of my dress hitches up, gathering at my hips. He steps even closer as he forces my legs apart and the skirt rides even higher.

  “You can’t scream,” he says, his voice whispers. “This is the greatest act of disrespect and I don’t really give a fuck, but I don’t want him ruining the moment.”

  At first, I think I’m playing dumb, not sure what it is he’s going to do, but I hear his zipper sound and I bite my lip. Dropping his pants and boxers, his hands come to clutch onto my ass. He drags me back toward him, penetrating me whole without any sense of foreplay. He seemingly catches me as I exhale and close my eyes as I take his full length. I teeter on the edge as he grips my hips with a bruising force so he can rock in and out of me.

  I get lost in the nirvana he creates around us and I allow him to do all of the work, begging myself not to give in to the plea to say his name with baited breaths. I get lost in the feel of each of his thrusts, feeling myself building with a climatic intent.

  I tell myself not to hold on, knowing we don’t have time to revel at the moment.

  “D-Dante,” I say, uttering his name in a breathless whisper.

  He doesn’t stop as I clench around his length. He gives himself the extra time to work toward his own orgasm and gives in, clenching his hands around my ass as he stills in me, releasing his load. He stills, leaning into me, bringing his lips to my ear.

  “You and I will rule soon, and this will all be mine. I’m just prematurely christening it.” His remark makes me giggle, the sound lost in breathless.

  “Whoa!” Jodi exclaims coming into the room. “This room is occupado, Jax!”

  “Fuck,” I react, unable to move with Dante buried deep in me.

  “They can’t see anything,” Dante remarks, smirking. “I’m blocking them from seeing anything and you’re hiding my cock.”

  Slowly, I lean over to appear around Dante’s formidable form to find Jackson and Jodi standing in the doorway, watching us. While Jodi looks like amused, Jackson looks horrified at the sight.

  “Hi,” I say, blushing bright red. “Think we beat you to it in this room.”

  “Clearly! That’s one way to build up an appetite, I suppose,” Jodi says, laughing. “Bit jealous.”

  “Guess now would be a prime time to alert you that dinner is like ten minutes away from being served,” Jackson says, starting to pull Jodi from the room. “Don’t get yourself caught in here!”

  “Don’t panic yourself so much, bro! Still plenty of time for a good pre-dinner fuck,” Dante muses, the tension resuming in his voice. He looks back at me, his eyes solely on me, but his words aren’t meant for me. “Close the door behind you, I’m not quite done in here.”

  I lick my lips with anticipation, preparing for the orgasm he’ll send through me the moment the door clicks shut.

  ***

  I hate that I’ve been sitting beside Marcello as he occupies the head of the table, but I’m more than pleased to have Jodi facing me. She seems so at home here, unfazed by Marcello’s thunderous demeanor. I’ve looked at him from time to time, and I hate the resemblance he shares with Dante in some light but hate him more for the way he scrutinizes me with each fresh look.

  Having to sit through two courses has been absolute torture! So when he left the room, I relaxed and felt myself breathe.

  “I’m sure you’re very confused as to why I would call a family meal like this, and I’ve kept quiet why I have,” Marcello says, his hands propped on the top of his lavish chair at the head of the table. We had starters and our main course, but he was called away and came back while we waited for the table to be cleared. “It seemed long overdue,” he states, finally taking a seat. “I want to discuss what will become of the Valens. Every day it is changing, and I won’t be here forever to oversee. I need to know that it will be in good hands who will fight to make the lineage of the family name as strong as possible.” Marcello pauses, ignoring Jodi to narrow a gaze on me. “Now that you both have promising women by your side, I feel now is the time to see what is to come of the family.”

  “Well, I just fucked Ryleigh without a condom, so I’m serious about an heir,” Dante comments, chortling. He puts his arm around my chair as I blush. “About time the Valentino gene bred stronger men than already present in the bloodline.”

  Ignoring Dante’s prior statement, Marcello clears his throat.

  “Are you saying we don’t already?”

  “I’m saying exactly that,” Dante admits, quite confident in his assumption. “Aside from us two, Marcello, I fear we have a weak ancestry building. Jackson, while my brother ‘til death, isn’t my biological sibling, and well, Tommy isn’t cut out to run this family.”

  “He’ll learn,” Marcello defends.

  “He shouldn’t have to,” Dante bites back. “He should know that you strike first and don’t give a fuck ever. He has proven he can’t live up to that one expectation. I was never given the benefit of the doubt to learn. You made sure I never knew anything different.”

  “Yet, you offered enough compassion to bring Ryleigh into the family,” Marcello remarks, arguing with Dante over the semantics of our relationship.

  “Which started entirely out of greed,” Dante states, sitting up straight. “I never empathized with her in the beginning. I lured her in not quite expecting the firecracker she was. She was under my skin before I realized it was too late. That is how a true woman should love a man in this life. She should seduce him without him even knowing it and force him to realize he’s met his match.” Dante looks at me, giving me a quick wink before turning back to Marcello. “Like Jackson, I wanted a queen by my side. It might have taken longer for me to see that, but I see it now. She understands the way of this world, Marcello. Count yourself lucky she loves me enough to give herself so wholly.”

  “So what are you plans for Ryleigh?” Marcello asks, leaning forward so he can place two clasped hands together. “Do I get to see you make an honest woman of her in my lifetime?”

  “If I could do so tonight, Marcello, yes,” Dante replies, giving his grandfather a shit-eating grin. “Ryleigh Valentino really is a bit of a turn-on for me.”

  “And what about children?” Marcello asks, catching me by surprise by turning his head to me, ignoring Dante. “Miss Ryleigh, do you see yourself bearing children to live to become Valens royalty?”

  I purse my lips, the idea of bearing Dante’s child entering my head and I find myself consumed with the idea of it. I guess I do, but not with the intention that Marcello sees it.

  “Yes,” I reply simply.

  “Very well.” Marcello accepts my quick yet short response. “Are you willing to bring them up the Valens way in order for them to behave like their father?”

  “In this world?” I ask, rhetorically, starting to nod. “Yes, I would.”

  Dante’s hand comes to sit on my hand as it lies on my thigh. His fingers curl around it, tightening it reassuringly as I talk to Marcello about such a delicate subject. Hell, Dante and I have a new relationship. We’ve learned what love means quickly, but there is so much we need to learn and understand about one another. Children and marriage... while it fills my heart with joy, it doesn’t seem like something that will happen tomorrow or in two years for the two of us. In fact, I know it’
ll take us time to adjust to the idea of creating a family of our own.

  “I want a family fiercely protected by their own and I want them to have a life I was never protected from,” I say, watching Marcello’s eyes lighten. “They will never have to feel abandonment while in this family and that’s something I could only pray they get. They will belong to something far more transcendent than I ever had the experience of having.”

  “And you see that with my grandson?”

  “I’ve never loved as I have him,” I reply, giving a small, bashful grin. “So, yes.”

  “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Marcello asks, shaking his head in dismay. “She’s a snake in the grass and only I seem to see that.”

  “Marcello,” I try, looking around the table. “I assure you that I’m not trying anything. I’m here because I fell in love in with Dante.”

  “Leave!” Marcello orders as the dinner plates are taken away from us. “I wanted a family meal. Instead, I’m greeted with a grandson blinded by the charms of a whore.”

  “She is not a whore,” Dante grounds out, his voice impossibly low. “You’ll do good to stop treating her like she’s one. Ryleigh is going to be a part of this family whether you like it or not. You’ve run my life for far too long. It’s time it stops.” Dante leans across the table. “You don’t rule my life anymore.”

  “I know all about your side activities,” Marcello states, his eyes narrowing with anger.

  “Good,” Dante replies, not caring about Marcello’s reaction. “Then you’ll know I became so much more than you ever could’ve made me.” Standing up, Dante tosses his napkin onto the tabletop. “Thanks for the meal, Grandfather, but I think we should cut this evening a little short.”

  Not even arguing, I also rise from the table. Jodi and Jackson are quick to follow. I can see how Dante is cracking, unable to stand by and let his grandfather orchestrate his life anymore. For once, Dante is breaking free and Marcello is clearly unable to comprehend what that means for him.