Darkest Sins - Page 99

“He caught the man I sent to spy on him. Ajello sent back the guy’s head, wrapped in fancy red paper. We agreed to stop spying on each other after that.”

“The sick asshole sent you a damned head?”

“It was payback. I had Salvo dump the body of another spy in front of Ajello’s building a few months earlier.” She clasps her hands in front of her, looking at the floor. “There were two more before that. Spies. I killed them myself. I had to. If I didn’t, I would have been labeled as weak and torn to pieces.”

I stare at my tiger cub, lost for words. There’s no actual bravery in doing something you’re not afraid of. She’s been thrown into a lion’s den, alone and probably scared shitless, and still, she managed to climb out, leaving all the motherfuckers in the dust behind her. Crossing the distance between us in two long strides, I stop in front of her and take her face in my palms.

“You will not feel bad for keeping yourself and your family safe,” I bark. “You got that, cub?”

“Okay.” Her lower lip trembles.

“Good.” I bend so our faces are barely inches apart. “I’ll never forgive myself for not being there for you. But, I’m here now, and no one will so much as look at you wrong going forward. Whoever dares, will instantly meet his maker. And if you decide you’d rather keep this weird criminal empire of yours, I’ll off your scheming stepbrother the moment he’s out from behind bars so he can’t take it from you.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I’ve never wanted it. I just want me and Lucia and Zara away from all of this. And I want you. With me. Always.”

“You have me, cub. Always.” I grab her around the waist and carry her into the bedroom. The fucking Italian will have to wait.

* * *

“What about the meeting with the capos you have this afternoon?” I hold the car door open and ogle my cub’s pretty legs. Those sky-high red heels she has on are a real turn-on.

“It was just with Armando and Brio. I called them and canceled,” Nera says and throws a look over her shoulder atthe car that stops behind my vehicle. Two of her “security” guys get out. I place my hand on her hip, keeping her close, and head toward the small plane waiting on the tarmac of the private airfield we’re flying out of. Nera’s guys follow a few paces behind.

“I feel offended,” I grumble.

“Why?”

“You think I can’t keep you safe on my own?”

“They are just for show. Ajello will expect me to bring security. Appearances matter.”

“Mm-hmm. Is your outfit for the sake of appearance, as well?” I nod toward her tight gray miniskirt and a low-cut red silk blouse visible under her coat.

“Nope. It was the only combination in my closet that was ironed.” A corner of her lips curves upward. “Since you tore the dress I planned to wear to this meeting off me.”

My cock hardens at the sight of her shapely legs as she climbs the stairs to the aircraft ahead of me. I would greatly prefer to tear off her clothes again and take her right here and now, in front of her dumbass security. But I can keep myself in check for a few hours more. Maybe.

There are four individual seats at the rear of the plane and two couches along the sides of the cabin’s forward section. Nera heads toward one of the couches and starts to unbutton her coat. The two security guys take the seats in the back. The ding sounds and the seat belt sign lights up. The captain does his spiel and the flight attendant secures the door before takeoff. The engines rumble to life as the plane starts to taxi to the runway.

I’m placing Nera’s coat in the overhead compartment when her barely audible gasp reaches me. My eyes immediately snapdown to her. Hers are closed, and she’s gripping the purse in her hands so tightly that her nails are leaving indents in the black leather. She’s obviously still afraid of flying. But she’d rather keep it all bottled up than show weakness in front of her men.

I turn around and fix my gaze on the security guys.

“Into the bathroom.” I nod toward the small door at the back. “Both of you. Now.”

They look at me, clearly confused.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

They scramble out of their seats and rush toward the lavatory. The first one grabs the handle and then looks at me. “Um. How long do we have to stay in here?”

“Until I come get you! Get inside!”

“Passengers are not allowed to use the restroom during takeoff, sir,” the flight attendant says from his seat near the plane’s door.

“You don’t say?” I raise an eyebrow and reach into my jacket for one of the throwing knives sheathed on the left side of my shoulder holster. “How about now?”

I throw the blade. There’s a hollow sound as its tip buries itself into the leather cushion of the flight attendant’s seat, right between the guy’s legs. The man jerks, his eyes flaring while he gapes at me.