Chapter 17

My eyes never veered away from him. Instead, I watched his every move in detail.

Massimo wasn't paying attention to the figure anymore.

No. He'd heard me, I was sure of it. I wore heels for a reason. And still, his head remained angled toward the other man.

Yesterday was in the past. I had left any frail thoughts and slips behind. Today, I missed my sunset and woke up without something that belonged to me.

There was no sane Zanetti alive. I guess he'd forgotten the blood that ran through my veins.

Finally, silence.

With finger-styled dark hair and a locked jaw, I was acknowledged.

Massimo's eyes flared.

Oh, he's displeased? I'm glad. That made two of us.

"Elio, this is Alessandra." Our eyes spoke of war. "Alessandra, Elio." I didn't take my eyes away from him. "My brother." And underboss. His stare was clear. I was in front of one of his men. Brother or not, I had to play the part.

I smiled. "We've met before. Pleasure, Alessandra Zanetti."

Elio was built like a heavyweight fighter. Tall, and over muscular for my taste. He was all dark skin and ink, but on him, it screamed mafioso. I was sure he had been an enforcer at one point, but his snake eyes claimed he still held the title of punisher. Only a few had the same empty look, but his remained vacant even in broad daylight. Thirsty for pain and blood.

A dark huff and a foul smirk erupted from Elio. "Same."

Elio's guarded hazel eyes scrutinized me carefully. They landed on my hairline before they glanced back down.

You've underestimated me before, Elio.

I slid my eyes to Massimo's, and my smile tightened. Pushing my feet forward, I held the back of the chair to his left but remained standing.

"Massimo," Elio called out for him, but Massimo watched me instead.

This was the dining room. Not a place for meetings. Did they miss the lavish food displayed on fine glass trays?

I wasn't planning to leave or apologize for interrupting. After all, it was breakfast.

"Are you joining us for breakfast, Elio?"

"No."

Observing him from across the table, I stood behind the wooden groves of my own chair and pulled it back.

"Well, I'm famished. And if you are done, you may leave now."

With his lips curled, Elio's face transformed. His head tilted back, and his breathing changed.

I smiled.

"Wait in my study. I'll meet you shortly," Massimo ordered.

Elio didn't move.

Ohh. I'd really bothered him.

"Elio," Massimo's tone warned.

Elio gritted his teeth and slowly withdrew his gaze from me. He walked away in silence.

I dropped my smile and sat.

"Do not provoke Elio," Massimo's curt voice warned.

I couldn't care less.

"Where is it?" I asked.

"How many more?" he countered.

Concentrating on my empty plate, I asked again.

"Where is it?"

The sound of his chair scraping the floor below put me on high alert. Our distance shortened, and I was left vulnerable as he towered over my sitting position. Menace echoed in silence as neither of us backed down.

A string of dread arrived with his footsteps. It didn't compare to the chain of fright as his hand clasped my jaw. Or the alarm of my stretched and exposed neck as he pulled my head back. Deep breaths calmed my fear. His fingers tightened until I looked at his eyes.

With Massimo standing behind me and his hand wrapped around my jawline, he challenged.

"Don't test me."

"I want it back," I gritted.

"No." He let me go.

I stood, and as I took a step, my body collided with his. Hard and unmovable.

"What are you going to do, Alessandra?"

Lost between my next move and his body. My lips parted, and heat spread.

There were a few things I could do. They all required physical strength and my push dagger. But that fight was lost long before I entered this house.

Powerless in this made-man realm.

It has been this way for years. Nothing could change it, but neither could I.

"I need it back." My voice changed. It wasn't demanding, it was stating a fact.

"How many?" His head dipped while my eyes watched the detailed lines of a cross that marked his neck.

It was easier this way. For my words to flee truthfully, if I focused on anything else then what another could gain by my answers.

But answering how many I had with me was a hard answer to give. How could I answer when it meant they could all disappear?

It would mean leaving me bare and defenseless.

"How many weapons do you own, Massimo?"

"It's not the same. You hardly had any luggage."

"Knives are easier to conceal."

"Which is why I'm asking."

With our short, curt questions and terse answers came a sliver of communication. It was low, nothing friendly or gentle as we discussed arms. Another mark tallied to our fucked-up arrangement.

"Over thirty."

He stayed quiet for a minute, and his cross wasn't offering the same distraction as his scent bounced over my body.

"I'll be sure to have a case for them before tonight ends."

Surprised, my head lifted. I shouldn't have; my hatred returned while his icy demeanor never left.

"Pick any room you would like them stored in." Quickly he added, "But I won't allow a knife inside my room."

This was worse.

A void swept my chest, draining out the control and promise my blades offered.

Knowing I wasn't able to fully comply, I had to think quickly.

"Your study," I answered.

It was the room with the least access to others. If I was intending to leave them in a case, they had to be safe.

"I'll let you know when it's ready."

I didn't look up when he took a step back, or glance as he stepped out of the room. I waited a few more minutes in silence before I too left the space.

Numbed.