12
Alessio
I have zero tolerance for petty bullshit.
Nicole means nothing to me.
She’s just a flight attendant who’s been useful on a few occasions, but that’s it.
She had no right to disrespect Olivia, even if I’m not defending La Sirena for her sake.
Nicole doesn’t know who she could’ve been messing with, and I won’t allow it.
Then I realize Olivia doesn’t even have clothes.
I dragged her out of her apartment wrapped in a damn bedsheet.
Christ.
I scrub a hand down my face.
There might be something in the back room of the plane, maybe a shirt or something she can wear.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with her.
But I need to figure it out fast.
Antonio’s already pissed about Cindy, and he made it clear—Olivia is my problem now.
If I leave her in Chicago, his men will handle her.
And they won’t give a shit that it breaks Commission rules.
Antonio has a code, but his men don’t.
Death would seem like a mercy with what they’d put her through.
And I don’t want anyone fucking touching her.
Olivia is a royal pain in my ass, but she’s not like other women, not like Nicole, who can’t throw herself at me fast enough.
It wasn’t the way she damn near unraveled right in front of me back at her apartment.
No fake, over-the-top moans, no crocodile tears, the kind women think men are stupid enough to fall for, when they’re caught red-handed.
It’s definitely not the way that tight little pencil skirt hugged every sinful curve as she ran, her ass bouncing just enough to make me want to chase her faster.
And those green fucking eyes that hold mine like she’s daring me to blink first.
Most people can’t look at me for five seconds without flinching.
She looks at me like she’s planning my goddamn downfall.
Then there are her lips, soft and full and always mouthing off.
They make me wonder how they’d feel wrapped around my cock.
How good it’d feel to choke the sass right out of her smart mouth.
She knows who I am, that much is clear.
But instead of dropping to her knees like every other woman, she’d probably kick me in the balls again just to prove a point .
And that’s where she’s got me.
She piqued my interest, maybe a little too much.
So, I’m taking her back to Philly.
Once I’m home, I’ll get my answers.
And depending on what she has to say, I’ll decide if I let her go…
or if she belongs to me for good.
I kick the door shut behind us with enough force to make the whole frame shudder.
I toss Olivia on the bed, and she lands with a soft thud, rolling off immediately, and clutching the sheet like it’s some kind of armor.
I lean against the door, arms crossed, watching her scramble to get her footing.
Her hair’s a mess, her cheeks flushed, and she’s still trying to act like she’s got the upper hand.
“What’s this?” she snaps, her green eyes lock onto mine like I’m the one in trouble.
“Do I get to upgrade to a duvet now? Or is this just part of your five-star hospitality?”
There’s her mouth.
I was waiting for it.
But I see through it.
She’s scared.
I arch a brow, taking a slow step toward her.
“I could let you sit in that filth, Sirena . Or you take what I give you.”
She takes a step back, the sheet slipping slightly before yanking it back up, which only annoys me more.
The room is small as fuck, it’s not like she can get away from me.
I wrap my hand around a loose end and rip the damn cover off her.
“What the hell are you doing?” she snaps, trying to cover her tits like I haven’t already seen them.
I turn away from her and pull open the closet with more force than necessary.
I need to get my shit together.
Inside, there’s a navy cardigan hanging up and a small carry-on bag sitting on the ground.
It’s probably Nicole’s, I didn’t give her a chance to grab her shit before I tossed her off the plane.
“Finding you something to wear.” I drop the bag onto the bed.
Olivia hesitates, then unzips it, rifling through the ridiculous lingerie.
Nothing but lacy scraps that wouldn’t cover a damn thing.
Not that I’d mind seeing her in something like that.
Of course, that’s what Nicole packed.
“Were you planning a fuck-fest? Jeez! I’m not wearing this,” Olivia snaps again.
“I’d rather stay in the wet sheet.”
I smirk, tossing the lingerie back in the bag and slamming it shut.
“Fine,” I snap back.
“Pick something or stay fucking naked. Your call. ”
I step back, my eyes never leave her.
She hesitates for a second, her emeralds going from me to the carry-on, before she finally reaches in the bag.
That sass needs to be spanked out of her.
Olivia snorts, shaking her head, then pulls out a ridiculous lace number.
She holds it up, spinning it around like she’s trying to figure out which side’s even the front.
“What, is this supposed to double as a headband?” she mocks, flicking it across the room like a rubber band.
I can’t help but notice how her tits jiggle when she lifts her hands, and yeah, I don’t even try to look away.
She’s too busy digging in the bag to notice, pulling out a cardigan and some yoga pants buried under all that damn lace.
“Privacy?” She mutters, clutching the clothes like they will protect her.
I snort.
“It’s not like you didn’t just throw your pussy at me, but sure, now we’re modest?” I reply sarcastically before turning my back, like the fucking gentleman I am.
Olivia has no idea the shit she’s in.
She’s at my mercy now, whether she realizes it or not.
The longer she takes to understand it, the harder this will be for her.
So, I let her have this—the illusion of control.
Let her think she still has a say .
“Done,” she says, and I turn around just in time to see her pull a hair clip from the bag, sweeping her curls back off her shoulders.
Then she goes back into the bag and pulls out a pair of pink fuzzy socks.
Jesus Christ.
I raise an eyebrow.
“You sure?”
She hesitates but nods.
“Yes. But I do have a question.”
She has the nerve to ask questions?
After all this?
My anger simmers, but I keep it in check, for now.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“How about you answer my questions first?” I growl.
“Then maybe I’ll tell you.”
She lets out an exaggerated sigh and plops onto the bed like this is all one big inconvenience.
My eyes narrow, watching every move, every shift of her body.
She’s putting on socks like she’s just getting comfortable, like she’s not my prisoner.
But I’m not fooled.
Her body language will betray her when I start asking the right questions.
I sit at the far end of the bed, keeping my face neutral, but I don’t take my eyes off her, watching, waiting.
She’s going to talk.
They always do.
“Fine, Warden, ask away,” she says, sarcasm dripping from every word.
“What were you looking for, inmate?” I fire back.
“Information,” she snaps.
Her eyes flicker for a second, like she wants to test me.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, she has the audacity to ask again, “So, where are we going?”
My patience is wearing thin.
“Information on what?” I press when I catch the slight tremor in her hands as she takes the clip out of her hair, only to put it back in again.
She’s nervous.
Good.
Let her be nervous.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she counters, trying to sound firm, but I can see through her.
The walls are already crumbling.
“That’s because you didn’t fully answer mine,” I deadpan.
This back-and-forth game is already grating on my damn nerves, and I’m losing patience with her smart mouth.
She hesitates, fingers fiddling with the hem of the sweater.
“Fine,” she finally says, sounding less sure of herself.
“I was looking for information about my parents. Something happened to them when I was a kid, and I want to know what and why. ”
Fuck, that wasn’t what I was expecting to hear.
Not even close.
But it still doesn’t make sense why she was looking into me.
“Why do you think I had anything to do with it?”
“I know the Commission was involved somehow.” She lifts her chin slightly, regaining some confidence.
“Then I learned you bought my uncle Tito’s casino while he’s sitting in jail.”
Tito.
I bought Satana, formerly Lucky Strikes, because it was a sinking ship.
Tito’s a scumbag who’s been rotting in prison for almost fifteen years, caught running some real dirty shit out of that place.
His girlfriend skipped town over a year ago, and the casino had been bleeding money ever since.
I took it off the bank’s hands when it went into foreclosure.
I saw it as an opportunity to make a profit.
But the place isn’t even open yet; it’s being renovated.
This isn’t adding up.
“That still doesn’t—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Look, I know he did some bad things. I haven’t spoken to him since the night everything happened, not that I haven’t tried.”
My eyes narrow.
“What happened?” My interest is now piqued.
I wasn’t expecting to get pulled into her story, but now I need to know more.
“It doesn’t matter,” she snaps, but her face betrays her.
Oh, it fucking matters.
“He won’t talk to me. I tried visiting, writing, and emailing, but there was nothing. He won’t respond.”
There’s a flicker of pain in her eyes, one she’s trying to hide behind sarcasm.
But I see it.
“How old were you when this happened?” I ask with a clipped tone.
“Ten.”
Seb’s report says she’s twenty-five, but there’s not much on her; it’s like she lived off the grid after ten years old and then resurfaced at eighteen.
I do the math.
Fifteen years ago, I would’ve been seventeen.
My fingers drum against my thighs, trying to piece it together.
The timing doesn’t add up.
This shit doesn’t make sense.
“Look,” I say, locking eyes with her.
“Even though I bought your uncle’s old casino, I wasn’t deep in this shit back then. Hell, I hadn’t even taken over yet. And trust me, if I had, I wouldn’t have started by taking out a woman. That’s the kind of thing you don’t forget. ”
I let out a breath.
“Philly,” I finally tell her where we’re going.
This is a mess, but I need to see if the Commission was involved.
Olivia’s eyes snap to mine, fire sparking in those emeralds.
“Why Philly?”
I lean back, studying her.
“Because there’s something you’re not telling me. And now I need to find out if the Commission had any part in this.”
Her face lights up, too eager.
“So, you’ll help me?”
I almost laugh.
“Not a chance,” I say, unapologetically.
“I said I’d check if the Commission were involved, but don’t get your hopes up, Sirena . Sharing Commission business with you is not happening.” I shrug, leaning back a little.
“So, aside from the casino, what makes you think the Commission had anything to do with your parents’ shit?”
She rolls her eyes.
“I did my homework, thanks,” she says, dripping with sarcasm while shifting her weight and crossing her arms.
Then, because she can’t help herself, she adds, “Not that I had time to show off my research before you went all kidnapper on me.”
I watch her closely, waiting for a sign that might give me more.
Her jaw tightens, but I’m not trying to break her.
Not yet, at least.
I stand up and walk out of the room, the door clicking softly behind me .
Questions race through my mind.
W ho the hell was around back then that would still remember what happened?
One thing is certain, keeping her close is the smartest move.