Until Her - Ami Van Page 0,65

fireworks. She tosses her head back in her moment of ecstasy and Adam immediately swoops in. Kissing her throat. Licking her neck.

He rolls their bodies so that he’s nestled nicely in between her legs and places a gentle kiss to her temple.

“Sleep,” he tells her.

He immediately pulls out of her.

“Adam—”

“It’s been a long night,” he replies before pulling the sheet over her naked body.

Then he does something that he’s never done to her before. He turns onto his side, turning his back to her.

This is her true punishment.

He may have brought her euphoric pleasure but he denied himself that. She knows it can be physically painful for a man.

Why would he do that? To tell her how disappointed he is yet her needs were still put before his feelings.

And that disappointment cuts her like a knife.

She’d fucked up and it settles on her how badly she’d fucked up. The two dead bodies didn’t do that. But Adam’s turned back tells her in bold red letters that she’d fucked up.

She puts her sketch pad down when she senses Adam approaching. He hasn’t said much to her since that night. It was five nights ago.

“Your drawings are getting better,” he says.

It’s probably the first full sentence he’s said to her which means something is up. Adam isn’t the type to kiss ass or the kiss and makeup type.

“Chase has been giving me some pointers,” she says before turning around in her seat to face him.

She’s sitting outside by the pool in the cool afternoon air. She finds that she would much rather shake from the cold outside than tremble with the cravings indoors.

He takes a seat next to her, pulling his sweater around him.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

The question puts a smile on his face but she doesn’t know why.

“I like that you’re getting braver,” he replies. “You’re more comfortable speaking your mind and not just waiting for permission to speak.”

“I—I didn’t…”

“I said I liked it,” he cuts her off but gives her a grin too.

“So is there something wrong?” she asks.

He exhales audibly. “That night,” he begins.

“Oh God! Did they find out? Does Isabella know I’m—”

“Ariana! Stop falling down that rabbit hole and let me speak!” He gives her a hard stare down, warning her to slow her thoughts.

“That night, after I left the club, Don Matteo showed up to the after-party.”

A million questions threaten to escape but she seals her lips shut tightly and waits.

“He was accompanied by two of Don Mazzilli’s associates,” Adam continues.

She nods for him to keep speaking. She won't be interrupting even with her mind racing into a million different directions and her pulse speeding up like a trapped rat. Isabella surely now knows where she is and that she is a rat. Soon to be a dead rat.

“Isabella and Cristian have once again made a deal on behalf of my family. Except for this time, we can’t say no because they went above us and informed Matteo and Don Mazzilli of this deal. Matteo was there to make sure that everything will go smoothly. They tied our hands and we have to push through.”

Even though her heart rate slows down because Isabella has yet to discover where she is, the weight of Adam’s worries piles on her shoulders too. Her heart aches at the thought of what he and his family must be going through.

“I’m sorry,” is all she can say.

He pats her hand. It’s a tender touch that she’s starved for these past few days. She wished it didn’t have to lead to this for her to receive it though.

“What do you know about the Santeria Family?” he asks. “We’ve heard of them before. They’re a smaller family from Mexico but we never had dealings with them because they weren’t interested in our product. They also get their weapons from another associate of ours so it was unnecessary to make any connections there.”

“Santeria,” she repeats and racks her brain to figure out why it’s too familiar. Names aren’t generally dropped around her. She’d learn names when it was one on one time. It’s those times that she didn’t want to remember now.

But a light bulb goes off in the recesses of her mind.

“Girls,” she whispers. “I…I think they provided girls for Eden. It…Adam, it might make sense,” she looks at him, her eyes probably the size of saucers. “Olympus has got to be closed to its opening. They’re going to need girls.”

“Fucking traffickers,” Adam mumbles. “We don’t deal people. We never have!”

His hand turns

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