Fifteen
Ava
Who knew a man’s raw instincts could feel this savage, this intoxicating?
I have no control over my body. My lips keep chasing every inch of his face within reach.
My hands, like iron drawn to a magnet, explore every solid line of his muscular frame.
I’m so drunk on his presence that my body’s gone numb.
If his powerful arms weren’t wrapped around me, I’d melt right here on this couch.
God, he was right, I’m going to beg him to fuck me tonight.
In this moment, I want Maxim more than anything in the world.
It doesn’t matter that he’s a killer, that he may or may not have a heart, that he might be lying about his feelings for me.
Even if this is all just a hormonal illusion, it doesn’t matter.
I surrender to him, and for the first time in my life, I’m trusting a man.
What happens in the end doesn’t matter. I want this moment, this reckless, untamed pleasure.
I’ve craved this unbridled lust for years, and last night, I finally let myself go.
If I regret it later, so be it. Whatever happens later happens.
“Maxim, is that you?”
A female voice drags me out of the haze of his kiss like a slap of cold water. As our kiss breaks, I realize I was running out of breath.
He lets go of my mouth but not my head. His hand stays tangled in my hair as he turns his face, visibly annoyed. “I’m busy, Stella.”
That name sounds familiar. I glance over and see Stella Bucci, the actress Maxim took to Tuscany.
So that’s who Ivan meant by “the little actress.” My God, her beauty is unreal, like a living, raven-haired Barbie.
But instead of admiring her, her perfection unleashes a beast of jealousy inside me.
Even the fact that Maxim didn’t sleep with her doesn’t matter.
He intended to. The warmth in my body vanishes, and I try to pull away from Maxim, but he coils around me like a serpent, refusing to let me retreat.
Stella looks at us, a smile curling her lips. She picks up one of Maxim’s cigarettes from the table, lights it, and exhales a cloud of smoke with a sultry grin.
“A natural redhead in Italy is rare and pricey. You know I love rare things, Maxim. And my night’s free.”
My eyes widen in shock. Is she saying she wants to sleep with me? Maxim lets me go and picks up his drink casually. He takes a sip and stares Stella down with cold contempt.
“Your expiration date’s passed, Stella.”
She doesn’t back down, taking another drag of her cigarette.
“I could just watch you two. When you come, pass her to me.”
Oh my God. What kind of sick pervert is this woman?
She’s talking about me like I’m not even here.
My fists clench. I rise from the couch and step right in front of her.
I grab the cigarette from her fingers. She thinks I’m flirting, so she doesn’t resist. I crush it in the ashtray and glance sideways at Maxim, who’s watching me with amusement.
As I straighten my back, Stella runs a finger under my chin, purring, “Why didn’t you bring her to Tuscany, Maxim? Just picturing this redhead between my legs gets me wet. That Anita was as bland as boiled chicken.”
Maxim growls, but before he can say anything, I grab that slut’s wrist and twist it so hard she gasps and stares at me wide-eyed in shock.
“He didn’t bring me to Tuscany because I’m not a one-night whore like you.
I know he didn’t touch you in Tuscany, but despite that, last night, before Maxim buried his face between my legs, he said that if I asked, he’d drag the corpses of the women he took to Tuscany and dump them at my feet. And I still said no.”
I squeeze her wrist harder and turn to Maxim. “Is your offer still on the table?”
He’s sitting with one leg over the other, smiling like this is the best show he’s seen all night. “It’s still good, baby.”
I lock eyes with Stella’s terrified gaze. “Come near me or Maxim again, and instead of a redhead between your legs, you’ll get a bullet in your heart.”
I release her wrist with a jerk and hold mine out to Maxim. “Let’s go dance.”
I need to burn this rage out of my system. He takes my hand, standing with a devilish smirk. “Yes, baby.”
As we approach the dance floor, it hits me what I’ve done.
I don’t even know how to dance, yet I invited him with total confidence.
Maxim pulls my hand and spins me around.
The force of it sends me crashing into his chest. I look up, and he frames my face with both hands, pressing his lips to mine.
The singer belts out a song about a woman who gets a man hard instantly, and as Maxim kisses me with feverish heat, I feel his growing erection against me.
He pulls back slightly and takes my hand.
His other arm wraps around my waist, and he moves me with such skill it’s like we’ve been dance partners for years.
The alcohol I drank heats my head, and I surrender completely, letting him move me however he wants.
He lifts my hand above my head and twirls me around. I squeal and laugh, eyes squeezed shut.
When I finally open them, I catch glimpses of strangers lost in their own worlds as I twirl.
But then my eyes lock onto a familiar pair of eyes.
Before I can focus, they disappear into the crowd.
My heart sinks, but I tell myself it’s just my imagination.
Maxim spins me again, and this time, I look more carefully. There they are again.
I let out a sharp yelp of terror, but the noise gets swallowed by the music and the crowd. I wrench my hand from Maxim’s and throw myself into his arms. His hands grip my shoulders as he lowers his head to my neck.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Get me out of here.”
His voice darkens instantly. “What happened? Who did you see?”
I lift my head in his embrace, tears blurring everything, and whisper through the panic, “He’s here. My father’s here.”
His breathing grows so heavy that my head rises and falls noticeably against his chest. The veins in his neck bulge, and his eyes dart around like they’re throwing daggers. He shields me completely with his body and pushes me through the crowd.
When we reach the lobby, he pulls out his phone and sends a message. I can feel the gun tucked under his jacket, and it gives me a shred of comfort.
At the entrance, a few of his men are already waiting. He ushers me into the car and moves to close the door, but I grab his arm in a panic. “You’re not coming with me?”
“I’ve got to hunt this motherfucker down before he slips out of our territory. Lorenzo will take you to Carlo’s place. Stay with Aurora till I come back.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. “Time’s ticking. You have to trust me. You’re safe.”
“What about you? Nico’s dangerous.”
His lethal glare softens slightly. “As long as I haven’t fucked you yet, even God himself can’t take me down. And some pedophile prick sure as hell can’t.”
He tries to pull his hand away, but I grip it tighter. He takes a deep breath, staring into my eyes.
“Make him suffer before he dies,” I plead.
His eyes turn hard and merciless again. He leans down and kisses me fiercely. “He’ll pay for what he did to you and our daughter. I promise.”
***
“Don’t touch my daughter with your filthy hands! Ava, run, run!”
A hand rises with a knife, and slams it straight into my mother’s heart. Her red hair is soaked with the blood gushing from her body, her eyes frozen open, staring at me.
When the killer turns toward me, I try to scream, but no sound comes out. I turn to run, but I plummet into an invisible abyss, my body swallowed by darkness.
The darkness and silence engulf everything, and I’m surprised to find myself lying on something soft. I open my eyes, and the first thing I see is Aurora’s vibrant orange hair.
My racing heart slows, and calm replaces terror. I sit up on the bed, and it all comes rushing back. The club. My father. And Maxim going after him. I waited for hours in that short dress, but sleep must’ve finally claimed me. The sky outside is still twilight, not yet morning.
I catch the scent of Maxim’s cigarette, and scramble off the bed, rushing to the terrace. As soon as I open the door, cold air bites at my bare skin, making me shiver. But I don’t care and step out barefoot.
I was right, he’s here. He’s leaning against the stone railing, staring at the forest beyond the estate. Without me calling his name, he senses me and turns. Dark circles shadow his eyes from lack of sleep, but he still looks solid. Unbreakable. A rock I can lean on.
I cross my arms over my chest, my voice trembling from cold and exhaustion. “Is he dead?”
He tosses his cigarette to the ground and nods.
Through the blur of tears, I see him close the distance in two long strides, wrapping his arms around me.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I whisper as I clutch his shirt.
He squeezes me tighter, his voice a soft murmur. “It’s cold. Let’s go inside.”
He takes my hand and leads me back into the room.
“Was his death quick?” I ask.
He gives me a long, unreadable look and shuts the terrace door. “Let’s talk in the kitchen. Aurora might wake up.”
When he slips off his leather jacket and drapes it over my shoulders, I realize I’m shivering. I pull the jacket on, inhaling his cologne deep into my lungs.
He takes my hand again and guides me to the kitchen, then pulls out a chair for me to sit and heads to the coffee maker.
“Maxim…”
He cuts me off. “Let me make some coffee first, then we’ll talk.”
I sit in complete silence as he prepares coffee, placing a mug in front of me before taking a seat beside me.
“I want to see his body,” I say, wrapping my cold hands around the mug.