Page 27

Story: Birthright

"I'll have it taken care of," he confirms, but there's a look on his face, something he's leaving unsaid.

"What is it?" I ask with a huff.

John eyes the door before looking back at me. "The girl. She's becoming a…distraction."

"That's not true." I stand from my chair, moving to the bar cart and pouring myself a little too much bourbon before talking a large gulp.

Deep down, I know he might be right. The blue-eyed devil is running laps in my mind, keeping herself present in my thoughts far too much. But I'm not willing to admit that. I'm the boss of the New Orleans outfit. I can't be obsessed with a woman. I don't have time and I don't do commitment.

"What would you suggest I do, hmm?" I ask, turning back to my cousin.

"Get rid of her. She's a liability."

"I can't kill her."

John blows out a breath and leans back in the chair. "There are other ways to get rid of people,cugino."

"No." I take another gulp. "She's not leaving. Not until I'm certain I can trust her."

That's the plan. Just keep her until I'm sure she won't talk if I let her go.

That will definitely work.

I hope.

Olivia isready to go bright and early the next morning. I find her sitting at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a pair of black leggings and an oversized denim shirt paired with sandals. It's a bit casual for me, but I don't comment on her outfit. Eventhough I had my personal shopper bring her a ton of choices. I'm just surprised to see her wearing such asimpleoutfit when she could have chosen anything.

Dressing your captive?

My mind rattles at the thought. It's wrong. Weird. Who takes someone captive and then buys them a whole wardrobe. But she didn't have clothes, and what was I supposed to do, make her walk around in the same outfit for weeks?

Or maybe you just wanted to see her all dressed up for you…

So what if I did?

She's alive because of me, after all. Is it so bad if I wanted to see her dressed nicely after I spared her life?

I have to shake away these thoughts. I need to fulfill my promise to her and then get back to work. Already, I think I should’ve had one of my men take her to the bar, but I wanted to be the one to give her this gift of a homecoming. Even if I don't plan on letting her return indefinitely.

Maybe I just want her gratitude. Something she seems unwilling to give.

I can't blame her. I am the man who had her kidnapped and is keeping her against her will, after all.

"Ready?"

Her head snaps up at my voice, and she stands from the step she's sitting on.

"Ready," she confirms.

I could have someone drive me in the black bullet-proof Escalade, but I decide that would give me too much time sitting next to Olivia in the backseat. I need something to focus on, so I choose to drive myself instead and have my men follow behind. The sleek black BMW M4 is ready and waiting when we exit the front door.

Olivia is quiet as she slips into the passenger seat, buckling herself in. She must be on her best behavior, knowing I'm aboutto take her home, where she's been begging to go since I first met her in the warehouse.

Something pulls at my chest. Pride? Pleasure? I like knowing I'm the one giving her what she wants.

Gino's bar has been a staple of the French Quarter since I've been alive. I recognized Olivia's last name as soon as she told me. Gino Marchese was already friendly with my grandfather and paid his protection fee on time and without hassle. The one who caused a problem was his son, Sal. Olivia's father had quite the gambling problem before he passed away and never seemed to have the money to pay his fee.

As I pull up to the bar, my crew steps out of the SUV, scanning the vicinity before giving me the all-clear. Olivia's eyes stay fixed on me while I hold back until they confirm it's safe to get out.