Mercenary (Gangsters of New York #3) - Bella Di Corte Page 0,114
so hot before.
I was fixated on it.
I could not stop seeing it, imagining it.
His hands on her.
His mouth on her.
His face when he was buried deep inside of her.
“Love—there’s no such thing in this life. Do you think she—” she nodded toward me “—is going to get real love?”
My hands balled into fists at my sides.
The moment I saw him, I knew the truth.
Those eyes hid his poisonous heart.
Those lips were vessels of deception.
That body? Made for inflicting pain.
I did not listen to myself. I did not go with my instincts. I went with love.
Love couldn’t exist in this world.
My hand stilled on the kitchen drawer as I heard Uncle Tito and lo scorpione talking right outside of the kitchen.
“The break, Corrado,” Uncle Tito said. “It’s deep this time. She can’t see past whatever she is going through.”
I almost threw back my head and howled with laughter.
They thought I was losing my mind? Had either one of them spent time with my husband lately? If they wanted to see a loss of a mind, all they had to do was look at him.
Maybe he was rubbing off on me.
Corrado took his voice down, and a minute later, he came into the kitchen.
“Turn around,” he said. “Look at me.”
I refused to. He grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to face him, but I wouldn’t look him in the eye.
“Look at me, Alcina,” he said.
I refused, keeping my arms up to my chest so I wouldn’t even accidentally touch him. I could smell her perfume on his body. I could smell roses and spice and something else…something I couldn’t place. The unknown scent did not matter. The rest, I could smell, and they were poking the vipere.
His eyes were hard on my face, but I did not move. He released me suddenly, almost violently, and lifted my shirt up.
I let him.
His breath picked up when he noticed the bruises. I felt his warm breath fan against my skin in faster waves. My shirt fell as he took a step back.
He stared at me from across the room. Then in a burst of fury, he picked up one of the chairs and flung it through the window behind me. It went clear through, the glass ricocheting in a hundred different directions.
I did not even flinch.
Not even when the alarms blared.
“Boss—” one of the men said, coming to stand in the doorway.
“Turn it off,” he said, not even looking at the man. He stared at me. I refused to look at him.
The man moved like a shadow in the darkness. Then another shadow appeared.
Uncle Tito cleared his throat. “I told Angela not to worry. All was okay with the alarm.” He pointed his bag towards the door and then left without another word.
“Look at me, Alcina,” lo scorpione said once more.
I refused to.
“All right,” he said. He turned and put his fist through the wall before he left me alone in the kitchen.
His violence seemed to echo in the quiet while my rage seemed to scream over it.
I listened for him for a while before I turned and opened the drawer again, taking out a knife. I stuck it behind my back, moving through the house as quietly as possible.
“Alcina.”
Mamma’s voice stopped me. Anna and Fabrizio had gone back to Italy, but mamma refused to leave.
“Go back to sleep,” I whispered.
“What is going on?” she said, her voice taking on a demanding tone.
“A little argument,” I said. “We will work it out.”
“Alcina,” she said as I moved further away from her. “Do not do something you will regret!”
I smiled in the darkness. If anyone regretted anything, it would be him. That fucking scorpion.
He had taken a shower and was in bed. He had lit the candles in the fireplace, and the light from the flames haloed his naked body. He could sleep even if the world was ending.
I tucked the knife in the bathroom drawer. I undressed, catching sight of the bruises on my skin before I jumped into the shower. I did not dress after and left my hair wet. I took out the knife and then walked into our room. I slipped in beside him and then moved on top of him.
His eyes slowly opened.
I pressed the knife to his throat a little harder, watching as the blood bubbled. “I told you,” I said, my voice coming out hard, but with a slight tremble I could not control. “I told you I would kill you.”