Chapter 20
DOMINIC
I shouldn’t have allowed her to get close to me last night, to help me with my wound. It made her think we’re friends.
We’re not.
We never will be again.
The last time I allowed her to get close, she broke me. Shattered me into pieces. And I’ll never let her break me again. Some wounds never close. They only fester, gnawing at the pain, reminding you they’ll never forget what you wish you could. And I remember all of it.
The shit I did earlier in the kitchen…man, I don’t know what I was thinking.
I wasn’t. That’s the fucking problem. I never am when she’s that close to me, looking at me like she’s about to claw at my clothes.
This attraction between us is on a whole other level. If I let her, she’ll have the power to sink her venom into my flesh and spread her poison through me. I can’t trust her. I can’t afford to, and neither can my heart.
The girl I once thought I knew tore my heart while it still beat for a friendship I thought we had. And the woman now? She’s no different.
I grip the back of my neck as my assistant, Camille, fills me in on my meetings today, her voice drifting in and out of my thoughts.
“You have a meeting today at four with Damian Prescott of JDG Global,” I think she says. “It’s regarding the security for the…hotels.”
I roll my chair closer to my desk, looking up at her, pretending I heard whatever the fuck she said. She flips her blonde hair past her shoulder, her dark brown eyes waiting for me to respond.
“Okay,” I throw out casually.
Enzo has a thing for her, even though she’s about fifteen years older.
But then again, he has a thing for any hot female.
If it weren’t for me putting a stop to him getting with her, he’d probably break her heart and make her quit.
Not happening. She’s good at her job and has been with me for the past two years.
I’m not starting fresh with someone new.
She taps a few more buttons on the tablet I supply all my staff with and peers down at me from beneath her glasses.
“Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
“Will do.”
She walks out of the office, and I get back to work.
Hours later, my burner cell—the phone reserved for my enemy—goes off with a text. A surge of anger fills me as I take it out of my pocket, unlocking it.
Opening the text, I read his words, clenching the phone so hard it almost breaks in my palm.
Faro
You don’t know what you’ve done. I thought we had a deal. Now you’ll die. I took one brother. I’ll take them all. Then I’ll kill you like I killed your father. On your knees. Begging.
My breathing comes out in a mangled strain. My heart pounds inside my chest. I squeeze the phone so tight, it digs into my palm with an ache before I throw it across the room. It crashes against the wall with a heavy thud.
The hatred for that man runs through my veins, filling me with savagery. There’s nothing I want more than to watch him die. I crave it more than oxygen. It’s the only thing I’ve lived for since he took them from me.
My office door flies open.
“What the fuck happened, man?” Dante asks, Enzo behind him.
Dante’s office is right next to mine, and my other brother must’ve been with him when I lost it.
I grind my teeth, my breaths deep. Heavy.
They both take a seat on the black leather sofa, leg crossed over the knee.
“He texted,” I spit out. “He threatened all of us.”
Dante releases a low chuckle. “Good. It means we got to him.”
I fist my palm, slamming on my desk. “We can’t underestimate him.”
Dante raises a palm, sitting back as he winces, the left arm probably still hurting from the wound. “All right, brother. I know. But we can’t let him get to us, either. We’ll get him. All of them. For Dad and Matteo. They’ll fucking pay.”
“He has no idea we know where he is,” Enzo adds. “I can’t wait to see the look on his ugly face when he sees us pull up there, guns blazing.”
I suck in a harsh breath, rubbing a hand down my face. They’re right. I can’t allow him to get a hold of my emotions. The worry for my brothers is crushing, and sometimes when I close my eyes, the fear that I’ll watch them die too takes over me until it consumes my every thought.
As the older sibling, I’ve gotten used to being like a father figure in their life, and protecting what’s left of my family is a job I take seriously.
Dante stands to retrieve the phone I threw, flipping it around. “Shit, it still works, minus the crack on the screen.”
“Considering the impact it took, I’ll take it.”
I’m not getting another burner just to give that piece of shit the number. He’ll not be hearing from me, unless it’s with violence. Dante hands me the phone, and I slip it back into my pocket.
“You guys can’t come to the charity event in a few days.” I change the subject.
Enzo looks at me all pissed. “What the fuck, man? Why?”
“Chiara,” Dante answers.
I nod. She’ll definitely recognize Enzo with his green eyes. I can’t risk it.
Every year, Tomás hosted a charity event to sponsor a different organization benefiting kids. This year, it’s a children’s hospital in the city. We bring in a lot of donors, and it’s an event the rich look forward to.
“I was counting on bringing some fine-ass women home that night,” Enzo grumbles.
“Don’t you have a stripper who needs your attention?” Dante asks, facing him with his arms folded against his chest.
“The woman doesn’t even like me, and when she talks, it’s to cuss me out.” He smirks. “There’s something going on, though.” His eyes turn thoughtful, and he takes a brief pause before speaking again. “She told me I had to let her go, or Faro will hurt someone she loves.”
“Who?” My forearms lean onto my desk.
“I have no idea. But I’ll find out if she’s lying, one way or another.” There’s a ferocious glint in his eyes, and I have no doubt my brother will.
Just then my cell rings—my real one—and I see Miles’s name on the caller ID.
Chiara.
Concern for her grips at me and I answer immediately.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him.
“Sir, we’ve got a situation at home that needs your immediate attention.”
“What the fuck happened?” I’m already on my feet, grabbing the keys off the desk.
“It’s best if you see it for yourself.”
I clench my jaw. “Spit it out. Is she in danger?”
I register the puzzled looks on my brothers’ faces as I head out of my office.
“She’s not in danger. Not exactly.”
“I don’t speak in riddles—”
He starts to reply.
“Give me a second, Miles,” I cut him off, then mute him and talk to Camille. “I have to go. Cancel the meeting with Damian. Send them my sincerest apologies and a bottle of the finest cognac.”
JDG Global is the best security firm out there, and I need them working for me.
“Of course, sir. Not a problem.”
This better be a good fucking reason to get me out of the office. The house better be on fire. And considering the live feed of the house on my phone shows it’s not, he better have a damn good reason for disturbing me.
Heading for the elevator, I unmute the call with Miles. “On my way.”
Then I end the call.
I swing the door open, finding Miles already there. “What the fuck is the big emergency?”
“Come with me, sir,” he says, already marching toward the living room, with me beside him. “I wouldn’t have called, but neither I nor any of the men knew how to handle this without offending you.”
What the fuck is he going on about?
Miles practically towers over me, and I’m a pretty big motherfucker. He’s about six-seven and three hundred pounds of muscle, but right now, he looks scared as hell.
Opening the door to the yard, he leads me toward the pool, where I first see the top of Chiara’s head on a lounger.
Four of my men are stationed there, all four trying hard not to stare at her.
I know she’s beautiful. I can’t blame them for that, but that’s all they’ll fucking do, or I’ll rip their goddamn hearts out.
But as I get closer, my pulse punches me right at the side of my throat.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” A disapproving growl thunders out of me.
Her shoulders jump as she yanks a pair of my Bluetooth headphones off her ears. She gazes up at me with a twist of her neck, her eyes squinting beneath the sunlight, but all I can see are her bare tits.
She’s in a fucking pair of black lace panties. That’s all. The matching bra is beside her on the ottoman.
Motherfucker. She let all these men see her like this?
I want to carve their eyes out.
“I’m sorry. What’s the problem?” she asks, her brows bowing in defiance. “Am I not allowed to tan?”
“Not like that. Not when every man here can see your tits.” My voice hovers above complete rage.
“Oh, please,” she huffs, putting her headphones back in as her lashes flutter to a close.
With a touch, I yank that shit from her ears. “Pick up that fucking bra and put it on.”
My patience is close to gone, my tone edging with ruthlessness.
“Are you fucking kidding me, asshole?”
“Chiara.” I drag in a long breath. “I’m close to losing my damn patience.”
“So scary,” she taunts, her voice twisting with a laugh.
“Put it on. Now.” I can’t even enjoy the sight of her while knowing all these men are doing it too.
“Get the men out of here,” I tell Miles. “And make sure you all scrub the image of her tits from your minds.”
“Yes, sir.” He gestures with a hand, and they all follow him out.
“You have on the count of three to put that fucking bra on, Chiara. I will not tell you again.”
“You’re insane,” she hisses, her ass still planted on the lounger.
“Three,” I count, my palm twitching with the shit it wants to do to her.
“I’m not a child.” Her features crawl with disgust. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Two.” I ignore her.
She spears me with a furious look, folding her arms under her breasts while I tame the wild need even as my cock grows.
“One.”
“Oh, plea—hey!” she yells as I scoop her up, throwing her over my shoulder, holding her around the small of her back, her bare ass in the air.
She showed them that too? She’s going to pay.
I may not be able to have her, but no one else will either.
“Put me down, you animal!”