Going After Heaven (Mafia Romance)

Chapter Thirteen

HEAVEN:

I didn't think that would work.

I didn't want it to. Or maybe I did. But my mind went berserk when it did. I was infuriated because it did.

He stopped. He fucking stopped when I held the knife to my neck. Why would he care if I hurt myself?

I lift my index finger to caress the spot on my neck. The spot that now has a tiny red line. The knife was sharp. Really fucking sharp.

My finger wanders to my lips. And like a rewinder, every clip from the kiss comes rushing through my mind.

My stomach heats up. So do my skin. Like I am back in the forge.

His lips on mine, ravishing. His tongue, scouring. His firm grip, burning. His pull, grazing. His scent, cloaking. His guttural sound, reverberating in my stomach.

Why did he? Why did I let him? And even worse, why am I fucking thinking about it now?

Too many fucking questions on a mind that's already tipping on the edge of insanity. I let my finger drop, exasperated.

Right now I won't bug my mind with deciphering what that means. I have a gala to make an appearance at. We have a gala to make a fucking appearance at.

I still need to know what Javier is up to. I need to know what he's planning. If his loyalty has shifted and for what price?

I clasp the last strap of my drop leg holster around my thigh. And let the pads of my index and middle fingers stroke my gun gently.

It's an Underworld gala. Anything is expected.

One minute you're having a death talk over champagne, and the next it's coming for you.

Every member of the underworld is aware of the dangers of social gatherings. But still, we live like we do not care for death.

I pick up the combat knife Gabriele made for me on my desk and dip it into an empty pocket on my holster. I like how the knife looks like an ancient relic.

To live by your side is paradise. To die by your hand is Heaven.

Is that what he wants? To live by my side and die by my hand?

Not so sure about the "living by my side" part. He walks about like the thought of being near me disconcerts him. But I am sure about the "dying by my hand" part. I am positive he'd want me to kill him. I am positive he wants me to kill him.

I let the fabric of my black gown drape. I don't bother to stall looking at my reflection in the mirror. I look incredible. In Helena's words. She picked the gown and I'm glad she picked this one. It's simple.

It's a black strapless silk gown, with a corset upper body. Then a slit on my left that starts from my lower waist. Baring part of my Medusa tattoo.

Mostly the part of her steel eyes and the twine of one serpent from her hair, around my leg to my ankle, with its tongue pointing at my heel. My holster is visible too. I consider it an accessory like the black stiletto sandals and diamond earrings I have on.

I look around my room to be sure everything is in place before walking out. Gabriele should be waiting outside for me. He's yet to move into the room next to mine. He will be doing that after the gala.

For tonight, he's both my chauffeur and bodyguard.

And date.

I mince down the hallway that leads to the private elevator on my floor. With my gown flowy behind me.