Hunter - Blaire Drake Page 0,9
into the back seat of the car and rested my head back with my eyes shut, I realized that I really did want to rip his throat out with my bare hands. He was asking me to kill the Romano family queen. He was the godfather, but Alexandria was the fucking queen. She was coveted and respected, feared more than Enzio ever would be.
Maybe that's why he needed her dead. She'd given him what he wanted, but failed in what he needed. She gave him power, but no son. So he wanted her life, for whatever reason.
He wanted her blood.
And Adriana's. More terrifying than Alexandria. He wanted me to kill the princess. My principessa.
Fuck.
Chapter Three – Adriana
Rossi padded across my laptop keys without a care in the world. I stared flatly at my black and white cat as random letters, symbols, and numbers appeared on the screen.
“Are you done, Rossi?”
He turned his head toward me, his black eyes finding mine, and plopped down on the keyboard. He curled into a ball, still watching me. If cats could smirk, he'd be smirking right now.
I sighed and swept my finger across the trackpad and hit 'File' to save my now half nonsensical essay. I shut down the word processor, turned off my laptop, and pushed the chair away from the desk. “You win, cat. As always.”
I was so his bitch.
I mean, it wasn't like that measly seven hundred word document needed to be five thousand and completed within forty-eight hours. No big deal at all. I could knock that out in my sleep, no problemo.
My sigh was heavy as I left him sleeping in the sunlight on my laptop. Who had it right, eh? He got to lay there for the next several hours then meander his way downstairs and beg to be fed. Meanwhile, I was destined to fret over anything and everything to do with that essay while waiting for him to decide to free up my keyboard.
Piccolo bastardo.
Little bastard.
A note was pinned on the fridge when I walked into the kitchen, so I pulled it from the magnet and looked at it.
Addy,
You were studying and I didn't want to disturb you. Gone to work. See you at ten. Call me if you need me.
Dar.
Wow. I didn't even know he'd gone. I must have been in my own little world until Rossi barreled in like a feline avalanche. Ugh. I was never going to get that essay done on time.
The echoing sound of my phone ringing found my ears. “Shit,” I muttered, dropping Darien's note and turning. I ran back into the office and snatched my phone up from its place on the bookcase.
Gaige. Of course.
“What do you want, Pontarelli?” I answered the phone.
“Your pants, Romano,” he fired back with a deep laugh. “I wanted to check up on you. Make sure you're all right.”
“I'm fine.” I turned back down the hall to the kitchen, then opened the fridge. “Why would something be wrong?”
“Oh, I can't imagine why.”
“Don't take that tone with me, Gaige. I will beat your balls with a wooden spoon.”
“Such an Italian.”
“Vaffanculo,” I replied. Fuck you. “I told you, I'm good. If I need you or my life is in random, sudden danger, I'll call you.”
“Addy, if your life is in random, sudden danger, chances are you're not gonna be able to call me,” he drawled. God, I hated that damn dry tone of his.
“Your sarcasm is starting to piss me off, dickhead.” I pulled a bottle of water out of fridge. “In that case, if I don't call you, then worry.”
“You never call me. It's like I'm the only one trying.”
“Oh, booboo. Povero bambino.”
“Poor baby? Jesus, you're speaking a lot of Italian today.”
“You just told me I was 'such an Italian,' and believe it or not, Italians speak Italian.”
“Your sass is out of this world.”
“Says the one who's been throwing shade at me this whole conversation.”
Gaige laughed. “All right, all right. Just check in soon, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Try not to break any hearts between now and then.”
“Not hearts, Addy. Only pussys.”
“Niiiiiice,” I muttered, hanging up.
I really didn't need to know that. Like, really fucking didn't.
I put my phone on the island in the middle of the kitchen and turned on the oven. I didn't realize it was dinnertime already, so I pulled a pizza from the freezer. Blasphemy, I know, but of the two of us who lived in this house, Darien was the one who could make a mean pizza base. I