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Chapter Thirty

MERRICK

Colette falls asleep, but only after I eat her, then fuck her into exhaustion. I should be tired, too, but I’m not. My mind will not stop spinning. Every scenario that could possibly happen is playing on a loop inside of my mind.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I grab a pair of pants, my gun, and my phone before I leave the room. I’ll probably never be without my gun again. Call me paranoid, but I don’t care. My gun is going to stay at my side from today until probably the day I die at this point.

Slipping out of the bedroom, I walk into the living room and then the kitchen. I flip on the light and jump when I hear a throat clear to my left. I look over to see Marcello sitting at the table.

“I could have fucking shot you,” I bark.

He snorts, then dips his chin to the center of the table where his hand is resting on his gun. “You wouldn’t have made it.”

I almost laugh, but I have a feeling this fuck wants—or wanted—my woman, so I don’t. Plus, he’s Bellucci’s man, and anyone who works for him is no doubt shady as fuck.

“My boss is my boss, and I will be loyal to him until my last breath,” he states. Well, at least I know where he stands. “That being said, while I am here, my job is to protect Colette and to bring him Malcolm Ravet alive.”

“There it is,” I say.

He arches a brow, but I can’t help but chuckle at his expression. “He’s afraid I’ll kill Ravet before he gets what he wants from him. Bellucci should be scared because if given the chance, I will not only kill Ravet, I will make him suffer.”

Marcello smirks. “Bellucci knows that, which is why I’m here.”

“Are you going to kill me when this is done?”

Marcello shakes his head once, then thrums his fingers on the table. “I don’t have orders to do that,” he says. “But even if I did…”

He closes his eyes, then opens them, and I see something behind them, something that I can’t quite make out.

“Even if you did?” I ask.

“Colette doesn’t deserve a lot of the shit that has happened. You make her happy.”

“You love her?” I ask.

He shakes his head slowly from side to side.

“I don’t. Sure, I wanted to fuck her because the fuss that surrounded that woman has been beyond imaginable. And the fact that she’s the boss’s daughter makes her untouchable. Everyone wants the untouchable. But when I started guarding her alone, when I saw everything, I realized that she was nothing more than a lost soul. And that need turned into something else.”

“Something else?” I ask.

“Sadness, pity, protectiveness. I don’t know what it is because I‘ve never felt it before, but I do know it’s not love.”

I’m fascinated by this whole thing. I wonder if he feels for Colette the way I do for Lucille. More sisterly and protective than anything else. I don’t ask him. It doesn’t matter, and honest to fuck, I don’t really care. After this is finished, he will be somewhere else, and both Ravet and Adriano will be dead.

“I get it,” I mutter.

And I do.

But I also can’t help but wonder if Marcello is going to take over the Bellucci Mafia empire when this is done, or will someone else claw their way to the top? Because someone will succeed over Adriano.

There is always someone waiting in the wings for the leader to fall, and this organization is no different from the next.

Except Securus, of course.

We are all equal partners in our business. Everything is split evenly and will always stay that way. We are brothers. Equal in every fucking way possible. And we will always be that way in writing and in person—in life.

COLETTE

Taking a long shower, I wash my hair with my own shampoo, condition it, and then put on clothes—my actual clothes. My favorite comfort pieces are gone, likely burned by Malcolm, but I will take what I can get to feel human again.

When I walk out of the bedroom, I am surprised to see not only Grayson and Merrick sitting at the breakfast table but also Marcello. And they aren’t staring daggers at one another. They’re smiling.

It’s the most surreal moment I think I’ve experienced in a long time. All three of their heads turn to face me as I make my way into the room. “Come on and eat, baby,” Merrick mutters.

I don’t know why, but when he says that, my attention shifts to Marcello. I gauge his reaction, but there is none. I let out a sigh of relief and make my way over to the table.

I’m not sure I should be feeling any kind of reprieve, but I am thankful that Marcello is no longer looking at me in any way other than nothingness. I am good with nothingness when it comes to my father’s men, no matter who they are.

“We’ve been discussing how to get Ravet,” Merrick murmurs.

Which means they’ve been discussing how to use me as their bait. Taking the seat next to Merrick, I reach for a bagel that’s in the middle of the table and tear off a piece before I pop it into my mouth and chew while I listen to their plans, or at least their brainstorming.

“So, what are your thoughts?” I finally ask when nobody says anything.

They exchange glances with one another, but it’s Merrick who speaks. He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat before he lets out a heavy exhale. His gaze lifts to meet mine, and then he shakes his head once.

“We’ve been going round and round about it. We want to ensure you’re safe while luring him out enough that we can get him. So, going to a club or a bar won’t work because we’ve got those contract killers frothing at the fucking mouth.”

Nodding once, I pull off another piece and pop it in my mouth before I speak. “Why doesn’t Marcello just take me to him?” I ask.

The looks that are exchanged, I can’t describe them. They’re a mixture of shock and awe. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I chance a look over to Merrick. His expression is one of worry if I had to guess. I can’t really tell. Not that he would really tell me, either, but I know he is going to do whatever it takes, even if he doesn’t want to.

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Merrick mutters.

“Somewhere isolated, alone. Somewhere without cameras,” Grayson announces.

“I agree,” Marcello says. “And we surround him.”

Marcello grins, jerking his chin, then I watch as he takes his phone out of his pocket and sends a text. I don’t know who he’s sending it to, but within seconds, a ding alerts us to an incoming message.

“Malcolm Ravet is happy to meet tonight. There is an abandoned bar about an hour out of the city. He’s dropped me the pin to the location.”

Grayson snorts. “I’ll be going right now to check the surveillance and ensure that it’s not being watched. Forward that to me.”

I watch as Marcello’s fingers move over the screen, then he jerks his chin. “It’s on the way,” he mutters.

“While Grayson does that, you and me, we’re going for a little ride,” Merrick states as he stands to his feet. His focus is on Marcello.

I open my mouth to ask him if he’s going to be leaving me alone, but he answers that for me as he continues. “Colette will be safe here, right?”

Marcello’s gaze flicks to me, then shifts back to meet Merrick’s. “You’re going to leave her here alone?” he asks.

Merrick chuckles. “Well, that answers that,” he states.

Then he continues speaking, his words no doubt meant for me, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Marcello. “Go put some shoes on and get ready to leave.”

I do as he demands, partially because I know it’s what I need to do but also because I don’t want to be here alone. I’m scared to death that one of those hit men is going to find me, so I’m more than happy to put on my shoes, and thankfully, I have shoes now that aren’t wedding high heels.

I hurry to the bedroom to grab my sneakers and slip them on. I am so thankful to have all of my things again. Even if they’re not my favorite, they’re mine. They fit and are comfortable. That’s all that matters.

Taking a final glance at myself in the mirror, I pause at the sight of my reflection. Not because I look bad or scared, but quite the opposite. For the first time in my life, my cheeks are rosy, my eyes are dancing and almost glistening. I look happy—truly happy.

A throat clears behind me. I spin around quickly and take in the man across from me. He’s the one who makes me this happy, who makes the girl in the reflection’s eyes dance. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorjamb as he watches me from across the room.

“Are you ready for this, Colette?” he asks.

My lips curve up into a grin as I watch him from across the room. He tilts his head to the side, his gaze searching mine for a long, silent moment, then he dips his chin as if coming to some kind of agreement or decision with himself.

“You’re ready,” he murmurs. “Let’s get this shit done so we can start our lives.”

Start our lives.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard three words sound so sweet before in my entire life.

“I’m ready.”