Chapter 18

It was for the best. Because if I allowed myself to feel how I'd been robbed of my life and future, it would anger me, but if I allowed the feeling of giving up my blades, I would be beaten. I would be left broken.

Numbness was my conscious best friend, therefore mine.

MASSIMO

Tired of people testing me today, I flung my office door open. I took a deep breath and stopped at the sight of a wood and glass casing. It was designed to hold different-sized blades and made to blend with the same tint of the aged bookcases. An addition to my personalized space I wasn't expecting. Until today.

The long and narrow table sat on the corner right behind my desk. As if it had always belonged there.

It reminded me of the first person who tested me today. And the only one who remained alive.

Knowing she was near, my mind snapped glimpses of her green eyes and thick bourbon hair. The way her thin structure and delicate neck could easily snap if my hand had the chance to be wrapped around it again. Or the way her jugular popped when her pulse raced, taunting for a knife to slit and free its life source.

A chuckle fell from my lips from my dark thoughts. The ones that have kept me alive.

My demon was still awake and unsafe to be around after taking a life just a few short hours ago. Yet, I fished my phone out of my pocket and called her.

"Hello?" Alessandra's sleep-laced voice asked. Confused from the unknown number she had answered to.

A quick look at the clock, I realized I had awakened her. It was past eleven.

"It's here. Bring your phone and laptop down too."

I ended the call and walked over to the bar. After pouring and drinking the first glass in one sip, I refilled it once more. This one won't be drained to ease my thoughts.

Taking the furthest seat from the new cabinet, I closed my eyes and waited.

The door creaked, and I saw her searching for me.

White was a nice color against her golden skin. A thin satin slip dress hung low on her back, showcasing a few faint and small scars scattered far in between. Alluring me to count each one, to feel the softness of her skin against my blood-filled hands. Lace decorated the edges of her chest and teased just below her ass. It left her long legs bare, drawing attention to their defined form and strength. I could see the hint of her nipples peeking as her hair swayed in thick curtains while she sought out for me.

Alessandra's posture remained tall, but when her eyes didn't find me, she hesitated.

Making my presence known, I said, "That's what you chose to wear around the house at night?"

Her head snapped, and her eyes scanned all of me. When they landed by my collar, they turned careful.

Alessandra's lips parted and quickly shut.

"I'll make sure to wear a robe next time," she replied softly, too quickly and too perfectly.

"Now, say what you stopped yourself from saying."

Her eyes landed again on my collar, and mine narrowed.

"I thought your men were better trained." That sounded more like the spiteful creature I've acquired.

Was she insinuating

"I didn't really think. I've just been used to wearing what I pleased." Now that was a truth. "After the flight, you'd said Inside the doors of my home and bed, be my guest-"

"-Feed my twisted mind," I finished and let a sip of bourbon wash the thirst. "Is that what you are doing?"

Alessandra's round eyes widened, and her grip tightened around the brown bag she'd carried inside. As fast as her disbelief flashed through, it left without a sound, but her eyes stormed.

"Then you lied."

I lied?

Her tongue accused, her eyes believed it, and her body agreed.

I rose leaving my drink behind. My demon demanded blood for such insolence. For such a loose tongue, and confidence to utter such words. With each blinding step, control slipped, reasoning failed, and wrath begged to be set loose. Not once did she cower.

She should be pleading.

The split second I was in reach, my hand rose. Her eyes closed. She didn't flinch, they just accepted what was to come. It quieted the demon, the need for red, and caused the wrath to settle. I wasn't a liar. I had given her my word that I wouldn't mark her skin, and a bruised woman wasn't what I wanted under my roof.

I didn't care if she didn't believe it then, or even now. There were different ways of breaking her.

My hand connected to her jawline, fingers spreading to her nape and cheekbone. Powering over her small frame. I caught the glimpse of her eyes opening, but I watched the pressure my thumb applied as it ran over her lipstick-free and round lips.

"I've killed many for less," my voice warned. "So, explain to me, Alessandra." Setting her lips free, I looked down on her. "How am I a liar?"

Alessandra didn't hesitate. "When you said Miami was your city, and soon mine. It meant this house too. It meant I could at least roam freely, just as you do, in the walls of this fortress you've made." Her teeth captured her bottom lip, and when she continued, teeth marks imprinted for my gaze to follow. "Without the worry of your men or of what I wore to bed."

"Soon yours," I corrected. "We aren't married, nor have I fucked you yet."

"You and I both know, the moment I left New York, we might as well have been. The wedding is just a symbol for the famiglia."

"And yet, you don't bear the name Lombardi." I let go of her face.

I could see the lost battle in her gaze, and with a small crease between her brows, her head inched away.