“I assume Dante and Pietro Mione didn’t know?”
“They didn’t.”
“You can leave. I’ll handle this alone.”
Savio hesitated. “Are you really sure your plan is going to work? Nino is the logical genius.”
“He doesn’t take emotions into consideration. Emotional warfare is far more effective in this case than open violence.”
“Not as much fun if you ask me.”
I shook my head. “Oh, it’s fun for me, trust me.”
Savio snorted. “I’ll go take a shower. You have whatever kind of fun you prefer.”
He sauntered off and I stepped into Samuel’s cell. His wrists and ankles were tied together, but his eyes were open in his bloody face and full of hatred. “You fucking bastard,” he rasped.
I smiled. “I’d be careful with the insults if I were you.”
“Fuck you,” Samuel spat. “As if anything I say matters. You’re going to torture me to death anyway.”
I knelt beside him. “I don’t think that’s the right punishment for you, Sam.”
Fear replaced the hatred in his eyes. He arched up. “Don’t! Don’t you dare touch her.”
I straightened. “Someone will have to suffer for this. And I know you will suffer twice as much if I hurt your twin.”
“No! Torture me. Kill me.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not an option. You will return to the Outfit with the memory of your sister’s screams.”
Samuel froze. “No,” he gasped out.
I turned.
“Remo!” he roared, but I closed the cell door.
I stepped into Serafina’s cell. She was pale and still so painstakingly proud and beautiful, I allowed myself a moment to admire her.
She tilted her head toward me, her blue eyes burning with emotion. “Samuel will be safe?”
“By my honor.”
Her lips curled, but she didn’t say anything.
“I hope you can be convincing. I want your best screams.”
Her eyes narrowed briefly, giving me a fucking kick as usual. It was so much better than her desperate surrender.
She closed her eyes, chest heaving, elegant throat flexing.
I needed to own this woman. Body and soul and everything else she could offer. I fucking burned with the desire to possess her in every way possible.
Finally, Serafina screamed, and it was so fucking real that my body reacted to the sound, but not in a way it usually did, not with excitement and the thrill of the hunt. There was something close to revulsion filling my body, hearing her agonized cries and imagining they were real.
My hands curled to fists, my muscles tensing because a deeply buried instinct wanted me to protect her from whatever caused those screams. Unfortunately for her, nothing could protect her from me.
I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. I stalked toward her, gripped her arm. “Enough,” I growled, breathing harshly.
Serafina’s eyes snapped open. They searched my face, and a second too late I realized she got deeper than anyone was allowed. “Enough,” I repeated, my voice shaking with rage and confusion.
“Enough?” she whispered so softly. The sound was like a fucking caress.
Maybe I should end it now. Do what Nino said, end this fucking game. Get rid of Serafina and Samuel both.
I cupped her head and pressed my forehead to hers. She trembled, overwhelmed.
“Maybe I should kill you.”
“Maybe,” she breathed. “But you won’t.”
I should have contradicted her, but she was right and she knew it.
“You promised.”
I pulled back from her. “And I will keep my promise. I’ll release your brother now. I’ll have one of my men fly him and the corpses to Kansas City. How he gets back to Outfit territory from there is his own problem.”
She nodded.
“Come,” I ordered.
I didn’t touch her as I led her back to her bedroom. She moved toward the window and perched on the windowsill, pulling her legs against her chest. I stopped with my fingers against the light switch then lowered them, leaving the room in the dark.
Serafina twisted her head, staring at me. She was backlit by the silver moonlight as she perched in the window frame. She’d never looked more like an angel than in this fucking moment, and I realized I was on a precarious path.
Her whispered words broke the silence. “I wonder whose game is more dangerous, yours or mine, Remo?”
CHAPTER 14
SERAFINA
Over the next couple of days, Remo kept his distance. We didn’t go on runs, and Kiara or one of his brothers brought me food.
The look in his eyes when I’d screamed in the basement, it was difficult to describe, but I knew for some reason it had bothered him.
Nino had informed me this morning that Samuel was back in Minneapolis. I believed him. Remo had promised and despite my difficult feelings toward the Capo, I knew he’d keep this promise. I also knew that Samuel and my family were suffering every day I was here.
Nino treated me even colder than before—if that was even possible. I had a feeling things between Remo and him were strained because of Samuel. Nino probably would have killed my brother. It was the obvious solution, the one Dante would have chosen. But Remo ... he was unpredictable. Cruel. Fierce.
I didn’t understand him.
If he’d tortured and killed Samuel, I would have hated him with brutal abandon, would have done anything I could to kill him. But he hadn’t. I was scared about his motives, but more than that ... I was scared because a twisted part of me was grateful. I wasn’t sure exactly why, but Remo had done this because of me.
It was way past midnight when I heard my door open. I couldn’t sleep, my mind whirring with thoughts.
Lying on my side, I watched the tall figure step in. I knew it was Remo from the way he moved, from his tall frame, the shock of his black hair. “You’re awake,” he said in a low voice.
“Did you want to watch me sleep?”
He moved closer. His face lay in shadows, and my pulse picked up. He sank down on the edge of the bed, and I rolled onto my back.
“No,” he said in a strange tone. “I prefer you awake.”
He leaned over me, one of his arms braced beside my hip.
“What do you want?” I muttered.
“I want you gone.”
My eyes widened. “Then let me go.”
“I fear it’s not that easy.” He bent lower and then his palm touched my belly and slowly slid down. I held my breath, becoming still in a mix of shock and anticipation. He cupped me through the covers and my clothes. The touch was light, almost questioning, and I was completely frozen. My center tingled and that, more than Remo’s touch, sent a fierce stab of fear through me. I wanted him to touch me without a barrier between us, wanted to get a taste of something utterly forbidden, something I wasn’t allowed to want.
Neither of us said anything. I knew what paralyzed me, but what restrained Remo?
He exhaled slowly and stood. Without another word, he disappeared. Good Lord, what was happening? With him. With me. With the both of us.
That middle of the night visit seemed to have done something to Remo because he returned to our previous routine of taking me on runs and walks through the gardens. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or worried. I’d almost missed our daily arguments because he took me seriously and was strangely excited about my comebacks. He didn’t want me to be the restrained lady. Far from it. Remo thrived on chaos and conflict. His presence left me breathless and overwhelmed.
I slanted Remo a look as he walked beside me in silence. His expression was harsh, his dark eyes forbidding. I stopped and after a moment he did too. He narrowed his eyes.
“Why did you really let Samuel go? I want the truth.”
Remo glared down at me. “I think you’re forgetting what you are. I don’t owe you the truth. I don’t even owe you these fucking strolls through the gardens. You are my captive, Serafina.”
Serafina? “What about ‘Angel?’” I retorted.
Remo gripped my upper arms. “Careful. I think handling you with kid gloves gave you the wrong idea.”
“I think I have exactly the right idea.”
Remo’s fingers tightened. I lifted my hands and pressed them to his chest. The muscles flexed under my touch. Remo lowered his gaze to my hands then slowly looked back up. The expression on his face burned a fierce trail through my body. Fury and desire.
Remo jerked me against him, knocking the air out of me. One hand gripped my neck, and his mouth pressed against my ear. “I don’t remember you pushing me away when I touched your pussy a few nights ago, Angel,” he growled.
Shame washed over me from the memory, but worse, so much worse ... longing.
“Every fucking day you want me a little more. I can see it in your eyes, can see the struggle in them. You aren’t allowed to have me like I’m not allowed to have you.”
“You are Remo Falcone. You are Capo. You rule over the West. Who could stop you from having me?” I murmured. My God. What was wrong with me?
His fingers shifted on my neck, loosening, and he pulled back to meet my gaze, and I wished he hadn’t because the fierceness in his eyes was like the first breath of air after holding your breath for too long.
“The only force on this earth that can stop me is you. You’re the only one I’d allow to do so,” he said in a dark voice. He kissed me, a slide of his lips over mine. “How much longer will you?”