Sixteen #2
Then I collapse next to her, pulling her close and kissing her dry lips again and again. Minutes pass before she stirs.
I crush her against my chest and growl into her mouth. “You’re mine, Ava. Only mine.”
She strokes my jaw, whispering weakly, “I’m yours, only yours.”
***
Carlo picks up a sleek gun from the weapon-strewn table and casts a look at the sky, dark clouds rumbling above.
Even though it’s past noon, the shooting range feels dim and heavy.
He flips the safety off, stretches his arm forward, and fires round after round at the distant target.
By the time he’s done, there’s barely anything left of the target’s head and chest.
He sets the smoking gun back on the table and scans the other weapons. Then he grabs an automatic rifle and inspects it.
“Any word on Leonardo?” he asks.
I pick up a small dagger and roll it between my fingers. “I’m not out of the loop. He’s wallowing in post-dick-chopping depression right now.”
He puts the rifle back. “When are you going to finish him off?”
I turn to the sand-filled dummy on my right. Take aim. Throw the blade. It lands right between the dummy’s brows. Sand trickles out like thin blood.
“Soon. I’ve decided to make my bastard father suffer the torment I couldn’t give Ava’s piece-of-shit dad.”
“Don’t drag it out. He’s a wounded animal. You need to put him down before he gets back on his feet, or he might slip out and come for you when you least expect it.”
I nod silently. I know he’s right, but my revenge isn’t complete yet. Hell, it’s not even close.
I pick up another dagger and drag my fingertip along its edge. “Emily asked Ava to join her for a yoga class.”
He raises a brow. “Yeah, she checked with me. So?”
“Before I let Ava say yes, I wanted to make sure you’re okay with it.”
“Why the hell wouldn’t I be?”
I shrug. “Because I know how protective you are of your wife, and you don’t exactly like Ava.”
“You’re my right hand. There’s no one in this world I trust more. If you trust Ava enough to let her be around my family, then I have no issue with it.”
I nod, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.
That’s Carlo, straight-up, no bullshit. He doesn’t deny he dislikes Ava.
She crossed a line that, if not for her tie to me, she would’ve paid for with her life.
Lying to Carlo Bruni, especially about something as sensitive as getting close to his family, is one of the deadliest sins in our world.
I’ve tortured and killed men and women for lesser crimes. But even if Ava weren’t the mother of my kid, I doubt I could’ve done anything more than fuck her senseless for hours. Just hearing her name is enough to set my blood on fire.
Carlo must read it on my face, because he smirks. “Word is you’re off the market. No more jumping every whore you see.”
“What can I say, man? My cock only wants her.”
“You’re falling for her.”
I scoff, shooting him a mocking look. “You’ve known me since we were eight, and now, at thirty-five, you think I’ve got that kind of streak in me?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “When the right woman comes along, that possessive streak shows itself.”
“I won’t deny Ava’s the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. Maybe my dick’s addicted to her body, but falling for someone? That’s not my brand.”
“Men like us need to trust what our cocks tell us.”
I smirk, but he keeps going, his tone dead serious. “Just don’t make the same mistake I did with Emily. That damn day in the library still haunts me.”
I know exactly what day he’s talking about, the day he almost raped Emily. Both of them brushed with death that week. But in the end, it was Carlo who gave in to his feelings. From that moment on, he and Emily have lived like one soul in two bodies.
A low rumble from the sky cuts through our conversation, and a single raindrop splashes on Carlo’s face. He wipes it off and reloads his pistol. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I check the message, then glance at the man walking toward us, wearing a perfectly pressed suit and holding an umbrella.
“Roberto’s here.”
Carlo slides the clip into his gun and turns toward Roberto, who’s now reached us.
Roberto calmly shakes both our hands. “Mr. Bruni. Mr. Moretti.”
Carlo gestures toward the table full of firearms with the hand still holding his gun. “Pick your weapon.”
Roberto’s brow arches, and he gives Carlo a questioning look.
“I heard you’re a skilled marksman,” Carlo says.
Roberto smiles and bows his head slightly in respect. “I’m sure your skills surpass mine.”
I grab my revolver, smirking. “That’s obvious. But let’s see it with our own eyes.”
Carlo smirks, locking eyes with Roberto long enough to make it clear, this isn’t an invitation. It’s an order.
Roberto meets both our stares, then slowly closes his umbrella and sets it aside. He walks to the table and picks up a sleek revolver with a golden grip, checking the rounds inside.
Carlo steps back, leaving the range to me and Roberto. I signal the guard, and the moving targets start sliding into motion.
“We should probably wear ear protection,” Roberto says.