Page 25

Amara had nodded off, her head resting on my shoulder, and her soft breaths the only noise filling the room. I lay back and stared at the ceiling, working my fingers through the sleeping cat’s fur. Phoenix had warmed up to me in the hour since I’d been there—though I suspected it was because I’d snuck her a piece of pancake when Amara wasn’t looking.

My soft laughter shook them both, and I worried I’d wake them. I hardly recognized myself when I was with this woman. With anyone else, if I hadn’t fucked in forty-eight hours max, I’d have been long gone. But somehow, I knew she needed time, and even crazier was that I was willing to wait. Maybe a month ago, that thought alone would have been enough cause to sign over ownership and run back to Italy.

Che tragedia.

Tragedy indeed.

The image of her in my lap, coming apart as she used me, had been on a constant loop in my thoughts. I’d give anything to hear her sweet little noises again as my name dripped from her tongue .

I carefully slid the cat from my lap, held Amara’s weight as I stood, and gently lay her on the sofa. I’d return her key tomorrow—well, later tonight.

As I stepped away, she reached out and caught my fingers.

“Don’t go,” she whispered, staring up at me. “Take me to my room, Santino.”

I knew at that moment there wasn’t anything she’d ask of me that I wouldn’t do. Without hesitation, I scooped her up and started for the hallway.

“Which way?”

“Last door on the left.”

I kicked her bedroom door closed as I stepped through, delegating Phoenix to the living room for the time being.

The space was dark, illuminated only by a balcony light that filtered through curtains ruffled by a light wind. Even through the darkness, I could see the room was simple, with mostly bare walls. The exception was a vanity adorned with makeup, perfume, and other accessories.

A large, upholstered bed stood in the middle of the space. I sat her at the edge, and she reached up, untucked my shirt, and started on the buttons.

Her fingers shook slightly. She was nervous. “Amara—”

“Can I ask you something?” she said, rising to her knees as she continued to work her way up.

“Anything.”

“Please don’t ask me if I’m sure…because I’m not. I won’t ever be. And that’s an honest answer.”

I wanted her to open up, but I’d follow her lead, however fast or slow. With her gaze locked on mine, Amara grabbed the hem of her sweater and discarded the top on the floor by my feet. My eyes fell on the swell of her breasts and tight nipples.

“ Bellissima ,” I murmured into her ear, pressing my thumb over a hardened peak. She tensed beneath my touch momentarily before pulling open my shirt and shoving it down my arms .

“So many,” she breathed as her finger trailed lightly over the ink on my chest.

“They tell a story. Every chapter of my life is painted on my flesh.” I tugged her closer and kissed her shoulder. “I thought I was done…but maybe I was wrong.”

As I moved my lips up the length of her neck, Amara tipped her head back and closed her eyes, nails digging into my arms.

“Yeah?”

I climbed into the bed and over her body as she lay back. “Yeah,” I replied, pressing my lips to her stomach and taking a moment to inhale the fresh scent of her skin. But as I lowered my mouth again, I noticed she trembled. My first thought was the open balcony door, but the breeze was warm, and I didn’t see a single goosebump.

Everything suddenly came into focus. Her hands were in fists, clutching the sheets, and her eyes shut tightly as she seemed to be trying to settle her breathing.

“ Preziosa , you’re shaking. Is everything okay?”

She took in a shuddering breath, released the bedsheet, and reached for my hand.

“I’m sorry. I-I’ve never been with anyone…” she trailed off, eyes slowly opening and finding mine. “By choice.”

For a second, it felt like the world jolted to a stop.

By choice.

I moved off her body and sat at the edge of the bed, my thoughts swimming and my blood somewhere between ice and hellfire.

“Who?” The word rolled past my teeth more like a growl.

Silence.

She sat up and hugged her knees. “All of them.”

“Amara, what does that mean?”

The first tear rolled down her cheek as she seemed lost in her mind. “He said he’d break me…and he did. They all did.”

I gently took her hands in mine.

“Sometimes I still feel them inside me…in my head. They won’t die, Santino. So I have to kill them.”

“Oh, baby…” Heart clenching, I brought my lips to her hands and silently begged her to look at me, but Amara remained still, tears running past the seam of her mouth and diving off her chin.

“I won’t stop until he’s dead.”

“Who? Who did this to you? Tell me, and they’ll be dead before sunrise.”

I brushed a scar on her wrist…

Fuck.

My brain failed to comprehend the magnitude of what she’d suffered. Every second I attempted to process her words was a crushing blow.

I shifted beside her and slid the sheet over our bodies. My first instinct was to pull her close, but I hesitated, afraid of her reaction to the intimacy of being in my arms. As if sensing my trepidation, she turned to face me, the palms of her hands on my chest.

“I’m not afraid of you, Santi,” she whispered, blinking away tears.

It was all the reassurance I needed. Our bodies were flush, and my fingers softly moved up her spine and upper back, but something was off. There were small disruptions in her skin I hadn’t noticed before.

“He still owes me for those.”

“Name,” I gritted out, unsure what to do with the rage festering inside me with each revelation.

“Sasha. But he’s just another dead man walking. Because it was someone else…” Amara paused. “I…I haven’t spoken his name out loud. I can’t,” she said again, eyes narrowed.

“Is that who was behind what happened to you?”

“Yeah. He set it all into motion. And it got so fucked. But it was also because of him that I survived.”

It was my turn to pinch my eyebrows in confusion. “How so? I thought you said he—”

“He did. And that’s exactly why there was no way in hell I’d let him get away with everything he caused and what I had to live through. ”

The space between our bodies was nonexistent, but somehow, I crushed her closer. “Where is he? Does he know you’re here?”

She released a heavy breath. “He probably thinks I’m dead. But I’ve stayed hidden and kept tabs on him and also on—I wasn’t ready to face him then, but he disappeared a little over four years ago.”

“Maybe he’s the one who’s dead.”

“No. People like him don’t just go quietly. He’s part of something bigger, Santi.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on my chest. “He’s still out there. And I’m going to find him.”

I squeezed her and dropped a kiss to the top of her head. We’d find him. Amara was mine, and she was no longer on her own.