by Penelope Sky
“It’s not like I’m the Skull King. It’s not like I’m in trafficking.”
“Doesn’t matter. She’ll be pissed that you’re involved in my world at all. She knows the kind of shit I do at night and doesn’t want you to be part of that. She’s not going to be happy.”
“Then maybe she doesn’t need to know.”
I shook my head slightly. “She’ll figure it out eventually. Better to come clean about it.”
He tossed the towel on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.
“She looks up to me. Don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”
I knew that wasn’t an excuse. He was simply talking out loud, not even directing those words at me.
I didn’t have anyone in my life to protect, anyone to disappoint. My only family was just as evil as I was. There was nothing I could do to change Heath’s opinion of me. We’ve been murdering and stealing for a long time. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
He lifted his gaze to meet mine. He had the exact same eyes as Cassini, so it was always jolting to meet his look. The Cardello family line was impossible to ignore. They were all strong, proud, and bossy. “What makes you think I would do anything for you?”
“Because I’m good to your sister. I bring her here because I know it’s important to her. I never lay a hand on her. I never force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. Maybe I keep her as a prisoner, but I treat that woman with respect.”
“Until you return her to Lucian or kill her,” he said coldly.
“Let’s not skip to the end.”
“And let’s not pretend your actions are okay just because you’re decent to her now. You can say the same thing to a lamb, that the lamb should appreciate his master for being fed, for having shelter, and for having affection once in a while. None of that matters because he’s going to be slaughtered—just the way my sister will be.” There was so much hatred in his eyes, so much rage directed at me. If only he were powerful enough, he would actually try to kill me. Murder was written in his gaze.
“I want to know Evan’s last name.”
Once he heard those words, his rage turned from a boil to a simmer. “Why?”
“I’m going to kill him.” I was glad Cassini was mine to enjoy. I was glad I had the perfect way to torture Lucian, the perfect leverage to get what I wanted. But I respected this woman and knew she deserved better. None of this would have happened if that piece of shit had done the right thing. He should pay for what he did.
“She doesn’t want him to die.”
“I don’t care what she wants.”
“But you’re doing this for her—so you do care.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic. “He deserves to be punished.”
“Agreed.”
“So tell me.”
“He’s got a family.”
“I’m not there for them, only him.” I didn’t have any interest torturing a woman and a child because of Evan’s past. They probably had no idea the rotten thing that he did. They couldn’t be punished for that. I hurt people who deserved to be hurt. His family didn’t fall into that category. “I’ll wait until they’re gone. So, are you going to tell me or not?” I grew impatient, even though I wasn’t going to storm off and beat him that instant. But I wanted to dig into this guy, torture Evan for what he did to Cassini. A beautiful woman like her never should have been part of the underworld. She was too good for Lucian, and she was definitely too good for me. She was an innocent person so I should let her go, but I was far too obsessed with her now. I couldn’t imagine being with another woman after her. None would compare. And she was instrumental in my plans with Lucian. Sometimes innocent people had to get hurt. If she asked me to save her in the beginning, I would have done it, even with Lucian as her husband. But that was her fault for never asking.
“Evan Alfonsi. He lives in Florence.”
“Thank you.”
“Cassini made us promise not to hurt him. But since you’ve made no such promise, give it to him good.”
“Oh, I definitely will.”
WE LEFT the factory and drove back to my place.
“The pasta was delicious, wasn’t it?” She had an arrogant smile on her face, like she didn’t need to hear my answer to know she was right.
“It was.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have that once a week for dinner? I could make it.”
“Once a week is still too often.”
“Are you serious? My family used to eat it every night.”
“Did your family look like this?” I lifted up my shirt while I faced the road, showing my hard abs.
She glanced because she couldn’t resist and then quickly looked away.
“Besides, it has no nutritional value.”
“Deliciousness isn’t part of that?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, baby.” Not everyone could eat whatever they wanted and look sexy. This woman ate highly processed, sweet cereal and still had perfect curves. She ate donuts for lunch, lasagna for dinner, it didn’t matter. Cassini could do whatever she wanted. If I ate like that, it wouldn’t matter how much I worked out. I’d look like shit.
“I could never have your discipline. The doctor could tell me it would shorten my life span by ten years, and I still wouldn’t stop.”
“I think it would—if you had children.”
She gave a slight shrug. “You and Case played nice while I was gone?”
“Did anyone die today?”
“No.”
“Then yes.”
She shook her head slightly. “You two are a lot alike. Maybe that’s why you bump heads so much.”
We were a lot alike, actually. But the real reason he despised me was because of what I did to his sister. I refused to give her up, and that just made him feel worthless. All he wanted was to protect his family, but I made that impossible. I was simply too powerful to take down. It would be a suicide mission. “Yeah…that must be it.”
I pulled into the compound, and then we rode the elevator to the top floor.
“Is your brother moving out?”
“No.” I shed my jacket and hung it up on the coatrack near the elevator doors.
“Why not? I don’t want him barging in here if I’m watching TV on the couch in just my underwear.”
“He won’t.”
“He already did it once.”
“And he won’t do it again.”
She turned to me, her arms across her chest. She was pissed she wasn’t getting her way. If only she understood that I would do anything to protect her. If I really thought Heath was a threat, I would remove him.
“You have my word.”
“You’re really going to stick your neck out for him?” she asked. “Or are you just blinded because he’s your brother.”
I wasn’t blinded by anything. “I understand my brother is a pain in the ass. He’s more emotionally driven, less pragmatic than I am. He can be sleazy and cross the line. But I can tell you with complete confidence that he would never do anything inappropriate toward you.”
“He already did—”
“It won’t happen again. And nothing worse will happen. He apologized to me and seemed sincere. He said he wants to patch up things with you.”
“Why would he want to do that?”
“Because if I’m not around, he is. If you need something, he can help you. If someone bothers you, he can protect you.”
“He doesn’t seem like the protector type.”
I didn’t divulge the full conversation because I didn’t want her to know my brother actually thought that she meant something to me, that she was special to me. That he wanted to protect her because I valued her so much. So I left all that out. “He is. He knows you’re my woman, and he wants to keep you safe. You’re important to me, and therefore, you’re important to him.”
“I’m your woman?” she asked incredulously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means what it mean
s.” I swallowed my pride at the insult in her tone.
“You mean, I’m your prisoner.” She stepped closer to me, her heels tapping against the floor. “Big difference.”
“Maybe you’re my prisoner. But you’re also my woman. You’re the one in my bed every night. You’re the one sleeping on the couch until I come home. You’re the one always worried that I’m going to be in between another woman’s legs. You see me as your man so let’s not pretend otherwise.”
She pressed her lips together tightly, having no rebuttal.
I knew I’d won that argument. “We’re getting a drink at his place and watching the game tonight.”
“What?”
“I spent the day with your brother. You can spend the evening with mine.”
“Whoa, hold on.” She raised her hand. “Are we a married couple going back and forth between families now?”
“No. I took you to see your brothers because it’s important to you. Would you rather not do that anymore?”
“That’s not what I said—”
“Then you’re spending the evening with my brother to give him another chance.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“I don’t care. You’re my prisoner, as you pointed out. You do as I say.”
Both of her eyes heated and shot lava like two little volcanoes. “He’s a creep—”
“You really think I’d let anything happen to you?”
That shut her up.
“I don’t have to be in the room to keep you safe. My presence, my power, follows you everywhere you go. You’re untouchable as long as you’re mine. I know my brother didn’t make a good first impression, but he’s a good guy. He may be a criminal, but he’s never forced himself on a woman or treated one with disrespect.”
“And I’m just supposed to believe that?”
“Yes.” I stepped closer to her. “Because I wouldn’t lie to you. So we’re doing this, and you’re giving it your best effort.”
“You seem to keep forgetting that he’s the one who started all of this. He could have walked inside and introduced himself instead of saying he wanted to eat my pussy. I promise you, the conversation would have gone much differently.”
“In his defense, any guy who looks at you wants to eat your pussy. So get over it.”
Her hands moved to her hips. “Oh, you’re definitely not getting sex tonight.”
“Whatever you say, baby.”
18
CASSINI
We rode the elevator down to the third floor, and the doors opened on a floor identical to the one Balto had.
Balto stepped inside. “We’re here.”
It took me an extra second to step out of the elevator. I’d been mistreated to a worse degree than what Heath did to me, but I despised his deception. He’d walked in there hoping I would assume he was Balto just so he could fuck with my head. I found that cowardly. At least the other men in my life were straight about their intentions—and their identities.
Heath rose from the couch and approached us in the entryway. He wore sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a black t-shirt. His skin was blemished in certain places. It was subtle and not striking enough to notice, but now I could see all the differences between these two men. “What do you want to drink? Scotch on the rocks?”
“Always,” Balto answered.
Heath looked at me, and thankfully, he didn’t try to greet me with a physical gesture. “And the lady? Wine?”
“I’ll have a beer.”
Heath smiled in the exact same way his twin did. “You’ve got good taste.” He walked to the bar and prepared the glasses. I was given a frosty mug for my beer, a nice and unnecessary touch. “The game is pretty boring so far. No one has scored. Cassini, do you follow football?”
“No.” I answered with short words because that was all I could manage.
Balto gave me a discreet look of disapproval.
I didn’t care. I didn’t owe his brother anything. I hardly owed Balto anything.
We moved to the couch. I sat in the middle and Balto sat right beside me. His hand moved to my thigh and took up the entire area. It was a kind of affection he’d never showed before. He never held my hand or put his arm around my waist when we were in public. When we watched TV on the couch at home, he didn’t even touch me then. The only affection I received was when we were in bed together. Maybe he only touched me now to make me more comfortable around Heath.
“How’s your beer?” Heath asked. “If you don’t like it, I can get you another.”
“It’s fine.” I kept my eyes on the TV even though I wasn’t following the game. My brothers were into sports, but I never was. I’d preferred helping Mom in the kitchen while they screamed at the TV.
Heath and Balto started to talk about the game like I wasn’t even there. They bitched at the refs, called out the players for faking injuries, and then argued with each other about their own opinions.
The night felt awkward because the attention wasn’t on me.
Balto excused himself to the restroom.
That’s when things got really uncomfortable.
Heath sighed as he looked at me. “I’m sorry, alright? How many times do I have to apologize?”
“It doesn’t matter how many times you apologize. Have you ever met someone and immediately didn’t like them? It has nothing to do with remorse. Does it really matter if I like you or not? I’m not going to be around forever, so it really doesn’t make a difference.”
He held his beer between his legs and sighed to himself. “I guess I just want you to understand I would never hurt you or cross the line. I made a bad first impression, but I couldn’t help it. I see a pretty girl, and all pragmatism goes out the window. But nothing else would have happened. I genuinely went up there to check on you.”
“Not once did you introduce yourself.”
“No, but you’re a total babe, and you were wearing practically nothing. Sorry, but I’m a man. When I see a beautiful woman, I do stupid shit. I shove my foot in my mouth and act like an ass.”
“You must not get laid often.”
“To the contrary, actually.”
“Only because you pay for it.”
He chuckled. “You’re witty. But no, I don’t pay for sex—that often. In my experience, women like the attention.”
“I’m sure they would feel differently if you just barged into their house unannounced.”
“Good point. But again, I thought my brother told you I lived on the third floor. Not my problem.”
I drank my beer and turned back to the TV.
“I’m cold and heartless just like my brother. We’re a lot alike, and sometimes I’m worse. He’s got stronger morals, stronger dedication to keeping a respectable reputation. Me…I care more about doing whatever the fuck I want.”
I turned back to him, somewhat troubled by his identical features. His voice was deep like Balto’s, and his jawline was so chiseled. Anytime he spoke, all the muscles in his jaw and throat shifted in the same way. Just as handsome and just as strong, this man easily could be mistaken for his brother.
“And frankly, I couldn’t care less if you like me. I don’t care if you respect me. Your opinion of me doesn’t make me lose sleep at night. But I do want to make this right for one reason—my brother. Balto and I haven’t been close for years. We butt heads a lot, and I was pretty pissed when he threw my ass in jail. We’ve got a lot of issues to work out. But make no mistake, he’s my brother, and I would do anything for him.”
His little speech started to wear me down.
“Maybe he won’t admit this to you. He won’t admit it to me either. But you mean something to him. He cares about you. Before he even knew about your connection to Lucian, we would go to the bars, and he wouldn’t pick up anyone. When we would be at the Underground, strippers and whores would throw themselves at him, and he would say no every time. Trust me, that’s not like him. He likes sex even more than I do.”
So Balto really didn’t want to tell me the truth the other night. He would rather keep his silence than admit he hadn’t been with anyone before he took me from Lucian. Why would he want to hide that?
“So, if you mean something to him, then you mean something to me.” He pointed his thumb into his chest. “And that means I want to look out for you. Maybe when he’s away, you’ll feel better knowing I’m downstairs. I know you disarmed me the other night, but I’m usually a better fighter than that.”
“I sure hope so.”
A smile melted across his face. “I’m a decent guy. I’m not gonna say I’m a good guy because I’m not. I’ve killed lots of people. I’ve stolen from people who didn’t deserve it. I like violence and bloodshed. And when I see a woman I like, I make very inappropriate comments. But you can rest assured, I mean you no harm.”
I could stay angry at him, but honestly, I didn’t want to be angry. He seemed genuine, and if Balto trusted him, he was probably trustworthy. There was nothing Balto hated more than when someone lied to him and made him look like a fool. His brother wasn’t an exception to that. “Alright…I’ll give you another chance.”
“Good. But don’t expect me to stop saying you’re hot. Because you are damn hot.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t let Balto hear you say that.”
“He doesn’t care. It’s the touching he cares about.”
“Should we hug it out?”
He shook his head. “Definitely not. Balto explicitly told me I couldn’t touch you. So clinking our beers together will have to do.” He held up his glass.
I tapped mine against it.
Then we both took a long drink.
Balto came out a second later. “No guns are drawn. That’s a good sign.”
“We had a good talk,” Heath explained. “I told her I was an asshole, but a good asshole. You know, the kind that might compliment your ass in a short dress, but not the kind that would actually keep you as a prisoner.”
“Was that a dig at me?” Balto returned to the seat beside me.
“Do you know anyone else who keeps a woman as a prisoner?”
“A lot, actually,” Balto replied.