Vengeance: DARK MAFIA ROMANCE

Ten

Savio

By noon the next day she still hasn't emerged from the garage. I'm humming to myself, cleaning up the emergency command center we established in the dining room last night when Luca phoned in the attack on Natalia's apartment. I've sent Nathan to go find dirt on the police and their families; the authorities are being strangely tight-lipped, which makes me think someone else is paying them more. Luca has returned to the crime scene, and my other men are putting out feelers through the mob families, trying to find ripples connected to the situation.

After I put away laptops, printers, and modems, winding each cable neatly, I carry a bag of empty beer bottles and set it by the back door, which is still cracked. I peek through, expecting to see her cowering in the corner or trying to sharpen a gardening implement to stab me with.

A smirk breaks across my tired face. She's totally knocked out on the back seat of the car, snoring slightly. I decide to leave the bottles for later and head upstairs to shower. Dom, my cane corso, stays by the back door, snuffling the air curiously. He wouldn't hurt a fly, but I hope Natalia doesn't have a heart attack when she stumbles across the massive black creature.

The smell of eggs and bacon finally drags her in. She freezes in the doorway, eyes moving from Dom's massive bulk to the fancy kitchen to me, cooking shirtless with damp hair clinging to my neck. Her cheeks flush. She's a mess, hair knotted and matted, her dress torn and black with dried blood. Her eyes are bruised with exhaustion and crying. I ache to push her slowly against the wall, enveloping all of her, erasing the marks of the rest of the world and replacing them with my own. But I have plenty of time; I should leave her wondering.

She sniffs the air and ogles the bacon I toss onto a paper towel. "Shower's upstairs. Put on whatever clothes fit." I have plenty of showers downstairs that aren't full of my shampoo and soap, but I want her to see me, smell me, feel me wherever she goes. Bowing her head, seemingly thankful that I didn't jump her the second she appeared, she pads upstairs on bare feet. I'm pretty sure she lost her shoes at the murder scene.

Dropping a piece of bacon into Dom's bowl, I arrange the rest of the food at either end of the fifteen-person dining table that usually stands empty, settling in the seat furthest from the door. My breath catches when she enters in one of my old undershirts and sweatpants, both way too big for her. Her long, dark hair hangs over her shoulder, leaving a wet patch down her front. I can't take it; even in the lion's den, even when she thinks she's so watching and experience, she oozes innocence. She has no idea what this does to me.

Hiding my restlessness, I nod to the plate at the far end of the table. "Go ahead." She falls onto the food like a starving animal, clearing away everything in sight. For the first time, I allow her to stuff herself. Let her see what she's about to enjoy. Only when she finishes do I bring the contract out. It makes a slapping sound on the table as I set it down. She looks from the papers to my face, trying fruitlessly to read me.

"You already signed it by coming here," I remind her. "If you change your mind, you'll be charged for a night's stay in luxury accommodations, the price of a nice breakfast, and a couple of hundred dollars for the clothes you're wearing. We'll be happy to return you to the sidewalk in front of your apartment."

Her lips tighten. I take a pen from my pocket and roll it down the long table, watching it come to a stop in front of her. "I hope you're happy," she mutters, snatching it up and signing the paperwork. "You're literally blackmailing a woman into sleeping with you." Her eyes flick nervously to me when she realizes she has probably gone too far, but I simply smirk.

"I hope you're happy eating my food, spending my money, and wasting my resources on keeping you alive."

I stand up. She flinches away, expecting me to collect my rewards immediately, but I simply pick up the contract and tuck it under my arm. "I'm going to work. Feed Dom his lunch, won't you?" I nod toward the black mountain of a dog peeking around the corner at her. She watches me in confusion as I stroll out to the garage.