Chapter 19

"Then why take my blades?"

There was a part of me that knew they were her false blanket of security while there was another part that knew it and did it regardless. The other part recognized that she was a Zanetti.

"I didn't. They have just relocated."

Reason remained weak in me, and I turned before her mouth could revive the demon.

"Leave your electronics on my desk. They'll be replaced with new ones by lunch tomorrow with our firewalls. Your cabinet is in the far right," I instructed, and fell back to the chair where my glass rested nearby.

I watched as she did what I'd asked in nothing more but mere lingerie. It shouldn't be called sleepwear, not when the slightest bending of her frame taunted my dick with the crease of her ass.

Alessandra worked quietly by the corner. She adjusted the inside of the casing in a particular manner. Fully invested and precisely to her liking. When she had finished, she took a step back to admire the bands before she did something I hadn't expected. She took a seat behind my desk.

No one had ever sat there besides me.

It was a sight that I didn't like, a sight that bothered me as the head of this syndicate. But as she pulled two rags and the knives out of her bag and spread them above my desk with her hair cascading over her features, bottom lip fixed between her teeth, and tits in display with lace trim, I didn't mind it enough to ask her to get off my chair.

Taking her time with each knife and dagger, Alessandra wielded the weapons with ease. Effortlessly, she manipulated the handle to the blade with both hands covered in cloth without dropping one, and her not drawing blood made me wonder how far her expertise reached.

Alessandra gave up so much in just one night. Their importance to her. Because no one cared this deeply for anything unless it was of value to them. I had taken the hint this morning. And it was just one, a simple butterfly knife. This was hurting her, and she demonstrated it as she polished every single one as if each swipe was a caress, and a goodbye.

One of Alessandra's greatest weaknesses were her blades.

I brought my cup to my lips and tasted my smile.

Alessandra then stood and began placing the knives on the straps she'd tailored to fit. Surprisingly, it had taken the least of her time as only a few remained on my desk, and she broke the silence.

"They didn't pose any harm in the room."

Alessandra didn't glance my way, and my smile broke. Fully entertained.

"It's hard enough for me to sleep."

"Afraid of a tiny knife?"

Alessandra stepped away from the cabinet, her attention landing on me. And while her words weren't an insult, her mocking tone was. She wanted them back. This was the weakest attempt to get them. It cried with desperation, and its cry told me I had accomplished the beginning of breaking a part of her.

"No, I just don't trust a Zanetti with one."

Alessandra picked up her bag, and in slow steps, she made it to the door. She was already struggling to walk out. With a quick glimpse, her eyes lowered to my collar.

"You should burn it. There's blood on your collar."

Alessandra walked away, and I walked to my desk chair near my new pride collection of pain-hers.

I welcomed the silence with her departure, even if my mind wasn't. New threats had surfaced with Alessandra's presence in Miami. Whispers of California's rage had reached. My men saw the power of the arrangement. Not one had voiced anything but their loyalty and eagerness to have the principessa of New York as the queen of Miami. They understood the danger and the war that would come, and they were ready for it.

I was ready for it.

My phone rang, and I closed my eyes.

"Si."

"Abbiamo un problema,"Elio spoke through the speaker.

When we had a problem, Elio took care of it before it reached me. Unless it was important, or I had to be known. By his tone, it meant our problem was someone. Someone who I had to agree and order to be taken for a swim.

"Where?"

"Same place. See you shortly."

With fresh images of Alessandra's silky dress, her unsaid pain that caused the hard-on that didn't get taken care of by her lips, and the wrath's need to still punish someone, it was best I left. If not, how long would I last before I sought my ill desire for her pain as I used her underneath me? In this state, my cruel hands would leave marks in every inch that would painfully bruise.

I left. After all, I didn't lie.

ALESSANDRA

"Get ready, we'll be late for mass," Massimo's detached and even voice ordered before he disappeared from view as quickly as he'd made his presence known.

In Italy, Nonno expected my presence with a smile on my face every Sunday morning. I couldn't fail to show, even in sickness. I guess something in the Mafia never changed, the faith of the made-man.

I wore all black. It seemed fitting.

The church was quite a drive after the road construction delay. However, once we arrived, I took one last peaceful breath inside the quiet and uncomfortable mood of the car. We both hadn't spoken a word, and as people piled around the main double wood doors, the car rolled to a stop in front of the entrance. Two men waited by our closed doors, and I turned to Massimo.

He too wore all black, and he sat patiently as the parked car ran with his eyes forward. He had something to say, and I watched as his mind played with the right words as he remained composed. His profile showed his strong jaw and the clean trimmed beard that hid so much beneath.