Chapter 25
25
I want to rip the sun out of the fucking sky and throw it as I storm toward Antonio. The heat only adds to my frustration.
Who throws a birthday party in this weather?
Has no one heard of Chuck E. fucking Cheese?
Hell, I’d have thrown it at my place if it meant I didn’t have to hang out in a goddamn kiln.
With each step I take, I will myself to calm down. As pissed as I am, I can’t let my anger get the best of me. I have to wait to confront him in private.
Antonio is third in line for the boss role in the family, right behind Vinny. If I disrespect him in public, it’d make him look weak to the other men.
People need to fear him.
To know if you say the wrong word, he’ll rip your head off.
Driving that fear is what keeps all of us alive.
Lucky for me, the only people at his table are Clara and Amara. Most of the people here are family members, whether blood or business-related. While I’m always involved in every Lombardi-related move, I keep my distance from some of the others. Antonio does as well .
“We need to talk,” I say when I reach him.
Antonio pushes his sunglasses from the top of his head to his eyes, grabs his drink, and follows me toward the pool house. From the satisfied expression on his face, he already knows what this is about.
My strides are long, and as we pass a group of men, I notice Brock’s attention glued to us.
Fucking asshole .
I’ll deal with him later.
I swing the door open, and Pippa springs to her feet off the couch when we enter. Her eyes dart from me to Antonio and widen.
She has no idea what’s happening yet.
She’ll most likely be pissed when she learns, though.
“You sent Brock to her?” I ask Antonio as soon as he shuts the door behind us.
“You have her around my daughter, Damien,” Antonio stresses. “I had to make sure I could trust her.”
I curl my hands into fists.
Us sending Brock to speak with people isn’t anything new. We do it to test their loyalty, to see if they’re trustworthy. If they even entertain the idea of speaking to Detective Kinney , we get rid of them.
I didn’t test Pippa because I was worried. In my gut, I knew I could trust her, but there was still that layer of concern. She despises Cernach, and we’re in the same line of work. She could resent me for that.
But what I’ve hoped is that she knows there’s more to me than the violence. My hatred toward those who wrong me is untamed, but my loyalty and compassion for those I care about are also untamed. It’s a happy medium, in my opinion. I’d rip my heart out of my chest and give it to her if she needed one.
Antonio shrugs. “She didn’t talk and hardly gave Brock the time of day,” he explains as Pippa stares at him, bug-eyed. “Do I feel a little better? Yes. Do I trust her completely?” He looks straight at Pippa. “You know I can’t say that about anyone.”
“You crossed a line, not giving me a heads-up,” I sneer.
“Better I test her than my father.” He motions between Pippa and me. “As soon as you two arrived today, he asked me if I’d sent Brock to her yet. He’d asked me to do it after the funeral. With all the time you’re spending together and how involved you seem to be, she was on his radar.”
Antonio and I have always been straightforward with each other. Neither of us has ever sent Brock to someone without the other knowing.
I point my finger at him. “That’s the last test for her. Do you hear me?”
“You work for us, Damien. It’s been this way for years, and it will always be this way. You get plenty of leniency, given who we are and what you are to me, but that doesn’t mean complete freedom. I don’t even have full freedom. Consider this a favor so she’s more welcome.”
Pippa stands to the sidelines, catching on to every word of our conversation.
Shaking my head, I curse under my breath. “Who was watching her?”
Pippa always has eyes on her—whether it be me, Julian, Emilio, or Luis. One of them saw her talking to Brock and didn’t say anything to me. I might not be able to punch Antonio in the face, but you can bet your ass I’d punch any of them.
“Emilio,” Antonio replies. “I made certain it wasn’t Julian.”
Because he knew Julian would tell me .
“I’m kicking Emilio’s ass,” I spit out, digging my thumb into the space between my brows.
“I ordered him not to tell you.”
I’m pissed, but at the end of the day, Antonio is right. There’s satisfaction in knowing she blew him off and told me who he was today. She could’ve hidden it all from me. But I’m still pissed at being left in the dark about it with Antonio.
“Wait,” Pippa starts, stepping closer to us. “Are you telling me?—”
“I’m not telling you anything,” Antonio says impatiently and storms out of the pool house.
“Let me wrap my head around this,” Pippa says, fully focused on the situation while rubbing her temples. “At first, I thought you left to go kill Brock or whatever it is you guys do.” Her voice teeters toward rambling. “Kill, hack up, poison?—”
I hold up my hand. “Pippa, please don’t start listing off ways people can murder others.”
“Do you murder others?”
“I think you know the answer to that.” I flick my hand through the air. “Moving on.”
“Don’t speak to me like that.”
“Don’t ask me stupid questions, and I won’t.”
Her face burns, and I know I’m pissing her off.
But sometimes, I love a pissed-off Pippa.
It’s hot as hell.
She storms toward me, hands on hips, attitude on one hundred.
So hot.
So sexy .
She slaps my chest. The pain matches that of a mere pinch.
But it stung her hand. I know from the way she suddenly jerked it back.
“Is Brock even a detective?” she bites out, returning the hand she slapped me with to her waist.
“Yes. We just pay him more than the state does to be a crooked one.”
The Marchettis have most law enforcement on their payroll, but we managed to snag a few with our checkbooks. At first, we had to blackmail Brock. Well, we used his father to blackmail him. A former governor screams scandal. It took us ten minutes to find one subject to blackmail him. An hour later, we had ten.
Since his father was no longer of good use to us, we extorted Brock instead. I’m beginning to think Brock enjoys the perks though.
As long as he doesn’t get too comfortable .
“How very cliché of you,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.
I snatch her elbow, and she releases a huff as I snap her around and pull her toward me. Her back collides with my chest, and I stretch my arm along her collarbone to prevent her from moving.
She trembles as I raise my hand and curl it around her throat. She swallows beneath my palm—once, twice, three times—each one heavier than the last. I give it a gentle squeeze, testing her, before lowering my hand down her body.
“Watch that smart mouth of yours,” I hiss in her ear.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll drag Brock in here, so you can show him how well you suck my dick.”
She attempts to wiggle out of my hold, but I don’t loosen my grip. “You’d never.”
I dip my head and nuzzle my nose against her neck. Her hair is in a ponytail, so it’s easy for me to suck on her sensitive skin there.
“You’re right,” I say against it. “If he ever saw how beautiful you look with my cock in your mouth, I’d have to sever his goddamn head off.” I lick up her neck and hold her still as her knees weaken. “That sight is for me and me only.” I slide my hand down her shorts over her panties and play with her clit.
She throws her head back, resting it on my shoulder, her gaze finding mine. “Did you ever doubt my trust? ”
“You have to doubt everyone’s in this world.”
“Did I pass your trust test, then?”
“You passed.” I slip her panties to the side and finger her until she comes on my fingers.
That’s my good, trustworthy girl.