Chapter 28
RHETT
When I hear the buzzing coming from the kitchen cabinet, my blood goes cold.
I keep my burner phone in there, the cell that people on the streets use to inform me that there’s garbage the cops won’t deal with.
The only people who have that number are involved in the criminal world or living on the edges of it.
I answer the unknown number, then wait for the person to speak. Speaking first would be a mistake.
“Is this the bogeyman?” A gravelly voice asks, tinged with an Italian accent.
“It might be,” I grunt.
“I understand why you’re cagey,” the man goes on. “It pays to be in your line of work. Let me start by introducing myself, Rhett.”
When he uses my name, I clench my free hand into a fist. They don’t use my given name on the streets. I’m known as someone who can handle dark business and commit dark deeds, but not by name.
“Maybe you should do that,” I growl.
“My name is Giancarlo Conti,” the man says.
I clamp my lips shut so that I don’t let out a gasp. “Right…”
“Do you remember the murder of the twins by the train tracks?” he goes on. “They were half-brothers, hitmen who went too far. They were found with each other’s tongues in the other person’s mouth. That information was never released to the public.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I snarl.
“So you know I’m telling the truth,” he says. “I am who I say I am.”
“What do you want, Conti?” I growl. “If this is about your son—”
“I know you would kill me if you had the chance,” he cuts in. “Perhaps consider it your civic duty. I know that what I do and who I am is absolutely sickening to you.”
I’m not going to correct him for any of this.
“But I also understand that you know how this world works. You know that, as far as criminals go, I’m not the worst man to be in charge.”
That’s hardly something worth bragging about, but he’s correct. Giancarlo Conti, unlike his son, has always let business dictate his actions rather than perversion or obsessions. He’s nothing like his son.
“You helped Lucian escape from prison,” I say.
“You know I can’t comment on that.”
“Get to the fucking point, then.”
“Most men would be too afraid to speak to me like that,” he says coldly.
“Yeah,” I grunt. “I’m sure they would.”
“But you’re not most men?”
“Nope.”
He laughs with an edge to it. “Fair enough. I’m not calling to tell you to spare my son. I know he’s been bothering you and some girl up there.”
“Some girl,” I repeat. “He took everything from that girl. Ruined her life. He should be rotting in a cage for the rest of his life for what he did… or fry in a fucking chair.”
“That’s why I’m calling,” Giancarlo says pointedly.
“I wanted you to know, if you happen to… do what you do, and if my son goes missing because of it, then there won’t be any fallout with the Contis.
Lucian has overstepped the mark too many times.
He’s always been different from his siblings.
He’s always been… wrong. I will hurt a man if it has a purpose.
But Lucian’s purpose is to hurt. Do you see the difference? ”
“Yeah, I see it,” I snarl. I share the same philosophy, but it’s not like I’m going to start bonding with a mob boss.
“That’s it,” he goes on. “No fallout. Full permission.”
“I never asked for your permission,” I growl.
“But you’ll take it anyway,” he says, laughing softly.
I can’t lie. Knowing that I can end Lucian without risking a fallout with the Contis does make all this easier, but I was going to do it anyway and face the damn consequences if they came.
“I’ll do what needs to be done,” I snap.
“Which is what you always do, isn’t it? I’ve heard good things about you.”
“That means a lot coming from you,” I grunt.
Another laugh. “Be warned, Rhett. Lucian has always been clever, especially when it comes to technology.”
“Yeah, I’ve experienced some of that myself.”
“He’s always been invested in the latest developments in… well, everything.”
“Okay,” I grunt. “Are we done?”
“We’re done,” he replies. “If you do this, do it cleanly. Do it quietly. Don’t make it so that I’m forced to act. If he disappears without a fuss, I’ll tell everyone he left the country. No one ever has to know.”
“Giancarlo,” I say before he hangs up.
“Yes?”
“I was going to do this with or without your blessing.”
“I’m sure you would have,” he replies. “But now you’ll be able to live the rest of your life without looking over your shoulder.”
“Hmm.”
I hang up, leaning against the kitchen counter. That was one of the most surreal phone calls I’ve ever been part of. I didn’t even think about the possibility of his father knowing about this and coming after me for revenge…
Which is stupid in hindsight.
As messed up as this is, it’s a good thing.
“What are you smiling about?” Elle says, walking into the living room in a bathrobe and a towel on her head.
“I just got a call from Lucian’s father.”
Her eyebrows shoot up as she walks to the counter and grips the edge of it. “Okay…”
“He says he’s not going to come after us for what we’re going to do,” I tell her, still a little shocked. “He’s going to look the other way. As long as we do this quietly. We’re not taking out a mob prince, just taking out the trash.”
She nods, her eyes wide with a hint of relief. “Then let’s do it.”
I shrug. “There’s not much to do tonight,” I say. “I can’t rig the place in the dark.”
“Rig the place?”
“Set traps and barricades in your house. We’re going to need to get you…” I trail off, feeling sick.
She walks around the counter and stands in front of me. She takes my hands and holds them firmly, looking up at me full of certainty. “What, Rhett?”
“A bulletproof vest,” I grunt. “Protection. You’ve got him fooled, which is good, but we still need to take precautions. This would be easier if I took him out—”
“Please, Rhett. We’re going in circles.”
“You distract him, lead him outside… I’ll pull the trigger and drop him before he even knows it. It’s cleaner.”
“But it’s not what I want,” she says fiercely, sliding her hands up my arms and sinking her fingernails into my shoulders.
“I think that’s who you are, Rhett. I know it hasn’t been a very long time.
I know we’ve got a lot to learn about each other.
But I know this. You’re the sort of man who gives his woman what she wants. ”
“My woman,” I mutter.
She tilts her head. “Isn’t that what boyfriends and—”
She gasps when I yank her against me and kiss her deeply. I can feel the shape of her body through the bathrobe, the luscious lumps of her breasts, the curviness of her body.
“Don’t make this about the fake boyfriend thing,” I tell her. “You weren’t in character when you said that.”
“So I’m your woman for real?” She says sarcastically. “Is that what you want me to say?”
“What if it was?”
My hands move as if with a mind of their own, gliding down her bathrobe, lifting the hem. I just need to feel her heat, her skin, the reality that she’s with me and she’s safe.
She moans and grinds against me. “Then I’d say you’re a little crazy, Rhett. Which is fine because I think I’m a little crazy too.”
She throws herself against me. I groan as my hands slide to her ass.
I lift her off her feet, putting her on the counter, arching my back and driving my groin between her legs.
Hard and unrelenting, my erection pressed against my pants, ready.
She makes the sexiest gasping noise as I dry-hump her naked raw pussy.
I can feel her wetness through the fabric of my jeans, feel her lust swelling inside of her.
“We can’t just say this is forever.” She gasps between kisses. “You don’t know if you want that, and I can’t think about anything else until after… But this, here, oh, fuck…”
She shifts on the counter, grinding her pussy against the front of my pants, making me shiver and ache as I try to hold myself back. It’s like she’s coaxing the beast out of me again.
“I’ve never felt anything like this before,” she moans. “I never dreamed I could be so confident after… you know. But you changed me. This time, I want to be in charge. I want to take control.”
She gets a dark, lust-filled look in her eyes. I know she’s talking about more than the sex. She’s talking about killing a man.
“Then take control,” I groan, kissing her again.
She moans, breathes through the kiss, sinking her hands into my arms and squeezing so hard I know she’s going to leave a mark.
I want her to tattoo me just like when she bit my shoulder.
Even when this is over and she thinks we have to end, I want to remember her. The sting of falling for my Sunshine.
She pushes her hands against my chest, gently nudging me away, then slides off the counter and takes my hand. “Do you really think you can let me take control?” She says, looking over her shoulder at me. “Because right now, you’re looking at me like you’re going to lose it.”
“That’s because that’s how I feel,” I snarl.
She guides me into the bedroom, takes me by the arms, and pushes me onto the bed. I sink back, staring at her in awe. Her curves outlined the bathrobe, her cleavage peeking through, tempting.
“Even now, the thoughts are...” She motions to her head. “But you know what? I don’t care, Rhett. Because I’m taking control. And when you look at me like that, I feel like the most powerful woman alive.”
“Good,” I growl. “Because you are. I’m holding on for dear life, trying not to crush against me. To own you. To kiss and bite every curvy inch until you’re slick and dripping down my chin.”
She rubs her legs together as though she’s seeking friction, a gorgeous flush spreading from her cheeks and down her neck. I squeeze handfuls of the sheets to stop myself from leaping to my feet and tearing off her bathrobe.
She smiles when she sees the effort I’m taking, then takes off the towel on her head, shaking out her wet hair. She slides her hand down the front of her bathrobe, looking at me with her eyebrows raised. She looks so damn hot. So in control.