5. Santino
5
Santino
A frown grows deeper on my lips as I watch the timer count down on my little bird’s cell phone screen. After repeatedly attempting different number combinations, I’m ready to return to her and demand the information to see what this frustrating device is hiding.
She left her phone and heels behind in her attempt to run. If it weren’t for the glint of the screen against the carpet, I would’ve missed it entirely.
Now I’m staring at a flower wallpaper. While I continue to wait, my knee bouncing, I can’t help but wonder if she took the photo herself. Is there much point in thinking too deeply about this?
The timer finishes, and I’m given seven more attempts. My fingers move in a blur, and I slam it down against the desk when it returns back to another count down. How many attempts do I get before it locks me out completely and this device becomes useless?
I could save myself time and throw it against the wall. They don’t make these things like bricks anymore. They’re flimsy and easy to break.
If only I weren’t hoping for a sudden ding from a message or possibly even a single phone call. Rocco hasn’t tried contacting his sister once, not by her phone or by mine. Surely, he has my number; he has more information at his fingertips than I like. He can call me if he wants to.
There’s the chance that he thinks Camellia is already dead. There’s no point in coming all this way for a dead body. Except she’s not dead. Hell, she’s not even chained to a wall or tied up in a chair. I left her on a bed and gave her a room like she’s staying at a fucking hotel!
Seething with anger, the phone made a loud cracking sound as it hit the wall as my anger fuels myself to release this pent up energy growing bigger and bigger. Standing up, my chest heaves. I reach for something else to throw, something I can squeeze to help ease this tightness wrapped around my chest. Everything I do just makes it tighter .
For the first time in years, I feel like things aren’t going the way they should be. I have a process, a method of getting what I want and disposing of the leftovers once I’ve wrung them dry. It’s as simple as can be.
Yet, here I am, sitting in my office, twiddling my thumbs while waiting for something to shift to happen. I don’t wait. I do.
There’s a knock at my door, and the grip on my lungs squeezes.
“ What ?” I grab my pen cup, my thumb digs into the crack running down the side of it.
Urzo appears, much to my dismay, and he doesn’t look happy to see me either. Then again, the bastard rarely ever smiles with that scar ruining his upper lip. He looks at the phone on the ground, unimpressed, before meeting my frown with a blank stare.
“Are you here to give me good news or tell me something that’s just going to piss me off?”
“Our mother is being a nuisance again.” He doesn’t wait for me to react because of the insult. “She’s running one of mine all over the estate and causing issues.”
Releasing my cup, I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. With a long list of issues building, now I’m meant to worry about our mother? “If it’s a problem, then tell him to leave, and put him on patrol at the front gate. She’ll be fine if she can’t talk off someone’s ear for one night. She’ll tucker herself out soon enough, anyway. It’s past her bedtime.”
Despite giving him the answer to his problem, he doesn’t move. Hell, I’m pretty sure his frown grows.
I sigh through my nose and pinch my eyes shut. I can feel my pulse throbbing against my temple. “What?”
“You gave a direct order. Last time I checked, your word has more weight than mine.” Lifting his hand, he scratches at the small hairs on his throat. “Unless you want me to let your mother steal that woman away.”
My eyes snap open and I straighten up. Rather than wasting time asking questions, I’m moving without any thought. When I reach the doorway, I pause. “Where?”
Urzo sighs. “They were in the courtyard the last time I checked. She is really pushing–”
I don’t linger long enough to hear him finish that sentence. Like a raging storm crashing in without any warning, I barrel down the hallway with fire burning hot at my lungs. Anyone who lingers quickly bolts out of the way.
The fucking courtyard .
I tell her to stay in the room, to wait until I can make up my mind what to do with her. What does Camellia do? She takes the first chance she gets to get some fresh air. Unless she was forcibly dragged by a woman triple her age, she should know better than to agree. If she were smart, she would’ve politely declined despite my mother’s known demanding nature.
Turning a corner, I spot the large glass doors blackened with night. As the distance between me and the door grows less, I can see the outline of bodies against the lights planted in the ground.
Shoving the doors open, the fresh air does nothing to cool me down. My feet feel heavier with every step; my fingers clench tight enough to lose circulation.
My mother is the first to notice my arrival. She looks at me with a familiar set of black eyes, and she’s smiling. Not with one of those tight forced curves, but a soft one that shows more genuine happiness. If she’s done this to spite me, I’m struggling to believe it’s the case.
Camellia picks up on my arrival soon after and she turns to see me. Her eyes widened and I’m sure her heart has stopped.
Hell, I think mine has too.
It’s not the sandwich clutched in her grip, or the fact she’s wearing my clothes that makes the rage burning inside of me cool down. No, it’s her face. It’s not the same one I burned to memory as she came against my fingers.
This woman has striking blue eyes, ones that leave a cold, unsettling feeling. Her once flawless skin is now scattered with what looks like freckles. Too many to count. Her once straight hair is now a mess of waves that look soft to the touch.
The woman I met tonight was sexy.
This woman is angelic, and makes it hard to breathe.
Gorgeous, in short.
The fear dancing around those eyes are the same, however. Fear of what is to come for her going against my order. Despite looking different, I’m sure of it. This woman is my little bird.
Taking in a breath, I prepare my words. I try to unscramble the mess brewing in my head, but I only become more jumbled when the betrayal of nature goes against my better judgment and causes her hair to sweep against her cheeks and her trembling lips.
“Leave.” The word comes out too soft for my liking. “Both of you. Escort my mother to her room.”
Her smile slips away and she sighs. “Santino, we just wanted a pleasant view with a meal.” My mother may be the woman who nurtured and raised me, but I am still the one who leads this family. Who shoulders everything that comes with the title of it all.
It’s my job to make sure my family doesn’t get comfortable with one who craves our downfall.
Camellia moves to stand, but freezes when I lift my hand.
“Not you. You need to finish your meal. You must’ve been starving to go out of your way.” I flick my wrist as Tommy quickly nods and urges my mother to follow him.
Once we’re left alone, I circle around the bench and take the seat next to her. Parting my knees, I sit back and fight the urge to look her way. If I do, I’ll slip and lose myself in staring.
I’ve lost myself enough times today when it comes to this woman. I can’t keep allowing her to affect me as much as she does.
Camellia doesn’t take another bite of her sandwich. Instead, she cradles it in her hands, hunching her shoulders like she’s a wild animal cornered.
Silence fills the air, and I can’t find the words I want to say. Anything that forms on my tongue makes me feel weak and even more unlike myself.
“Are you really going to use me as bait to get my brother here?” Her lips press together and she plucks at the crust before nibbling on a small piece. “He usually goes to bed early. He’s more of a rise-with-the-sun kind of guy.”
Tilting my head back, I can hear her limbs shifting. These are not the sorts of secrets I want her to spill. I don’t give a fuck about his sleeping schedule.
“He’s not going to come. Maybe he’d rather give me away to his greatest enemy than deal with me himself. He’s cruel enough to think that would be funny.” Murmuring the words, she finally takes a bite big enough to make speaking impossible.
Against my better judgment, my eyes drift in her direction. I see her frown and the pain behind those pale eyes. Once more, I don’t like the way I feel when I look at her. Like I’m weak.
Unable to help myself, I let her gasp fuel me as I get my hands on her. Grabbing her, I drag her onto my lap. The last of her sandwich slips from her fingers and bounces off my knee to feed some critter overnight.
As bad as this is for me, my body screams to make her pain disappear. To transform her sadness into something else. Be it agitation, or discomfort, or whatever the hell I can bring out of her. Anything is better than this pitiful view of abandonment.
“Santino!” She hisses my name and steadies herself with my arm. As if knowing there’s no point in struggling, she settles against my chest. For once, her limbs aren’t stiff like a corpse.
No, Camellia is too warm for all that. Soft, too. As I wrap an arm securely around her waist, I tuck my nose into the crook of her neck and take in a lungful. It’s hard to smell the wildflowers when my soap is clinging to her skin.
First my clothes, and now my shampoo. My mother is up to something, I’m not blind. One little change and now I’m imagining myself rubbing all over her so nothing but my scent lingers on her body. I don’t want to think about her plans to make my life hell. I’d rather enjoy this moment while it lasts. Give myself a minute to show even the slightest of weaknesses.
The rage burning in my chest smolders to nothing but hot embers. Instead of taking away the heat entirely, she leaves my limbs growing warm and my cock throbbing. Even now, with her ass pressed perfectly against my lap, I’m sure she’ll notice it sooner or later.
What has happened to me? I hardly recognize myself.
If Rocco Parada saw me right now, he’d be a smart man to try and take Camellia back. He’d spot the vulnerability a mile away and use it against me. That’s what I’d do if I were in his shoes.
Instead, I’m in mine. My arm tightens against her, and I try to imagine letting her go. Not just from this bench, but from my home.
I don’t want to let her go. As a matter of fact, I won’t let someone take her away from me.
“Your brother is a dumb fuck.” Her throat vibrates with a snort, and it’s nothing shy of music to my ears. “That won’t change. His downfall won’t, either. Once I get my hands on him, I will make him hurt.” Her body grows a little taut at the promise in my voice. My thumb strokes her stomach. “Not just because he’s been a pain in my ass for years now, but because he’s kept you away from the world.”
The words in my head become less jumbled; my thoughts are clear now that I have a goal in mind.
“Would you like that, Camellia?” I purr her name against her ear. “I can get rid of the warden who has kept you in your cage. Give me a reason to finally do what I should’ve done years ago.”
I’m starting to wonder if she’s truly scared of me. A woman full of fear shouldn’t be melting from my touch, but she lets out a soft sigh, anyway.
I want to touch her again, to slip my hand between her pretty thighs and make her give in to this thing that happens between us when we’re together. Even better, I want to drape her over this bench and thrust into her wet heat while having one hell of a view.
She can’t deny how her body responds, completely in tune with mine. It’s wrong, and it’s right.
How long will this last before I grow bored again or she grows tired of my antics? This is all new, and I don’t know what to expect. All I know is that I want things I shouldn’t.
“I can’t answer that. It’s wrong.” Whispering the words, she doesn’t give me the truth I want to hear. She must want him dead as much as I do. Has to. The betrayal against his actions is more than enough to wrong her to the point of deserving death.
“Eventually, you’ll understand that morality holds no value in this way of life.” Murmuring the words against her hair, I decide to test how long my patience can last. “He’s done you wrong if he’s kept you away from it.”
I don’t plan on throwing a sheet over her or pretending she’s not there. She was hidden away from the world, from every bastard like me. That won’t do any longer.
“Sometimes, I’d try to listen in on his meetings when he wasn’t aware.” Whispering another truth, she shivers, and my arms tighten around her. “None of the conversations were exciting. I usually got bored and didn’t linger for long.”
She’s lying. There’s something in the tone of her voice, I’m sure of it.
“They spoke about me, I’m sure. Did you hear about me?” When she tilts her head back, I take advantage and place a light kiss against her skin. My mouth tingles and waters all the same.
“I know you’re not a good man.” Like she needs to hear the reminder, she tries to pull away but doesn’t get too far.
“We all have blood on our hands. It’s one of those things you can’t help.” Hoping she’ll understand, I frown when her body stiffens beneath my touch.
I can’t stop killing just to please her. I’m not some weak bastard who bends over backward for a woman. The best I can do is not slit someone’s throat in front of her. Sounds easy enough.
“How long until you spill mine?” Her voice wobbles with the question. “How much longer until this game of yours is over?”
I pause, her words catching me off guard. They shouldn’t, but they do. I promised to torture her, didn’t I? My hands are meant to be wrapped around her throat in the near future, I’m sure of it.
Yet, I don’t want to kill her. I want her in every other way.
It’s a revelation my mind is not ready for.
Camellia can think this is some fucked up way of getting her to lower her guard, but it’s not the case. I can only hope she doesn’t realize just how safe she is now that I’ve created a craving for her.
“It’s no fun if I tell you the answer.” For now, I’ll keep the act up so she doesn’t get too comfortable. “Why not enjoy yourself? Isn’t that the point of a game, to have fun?”
She squeaks when I slide my hands down to her thighs. Squeezing the inner flesh, I can feel the heat radiating against my fingertips.
At this rate, this woman is going to ruin me before I can even think of returning the favor.