Page 19 of Ruthless Lord

Stefano strides past me. He storms right up to Emily and lightly takes the gun away from her.

She lets out a shocked little meep sound as she backs away, hands covering her mouth.

Stefano casually ejects a bullet from the chamber and removes the magazine before putting the gun back on top of the dresser.

“You keep a loaded gun in our freaking bedroom?!” I stare at him with a mixture of horror and rage.

He turns to face me. “I keep several loaded guns in my bedroom.”

“Oh my god! Stefano, how many are there?”

“Not counting that one, I have four more.”

“You had five loaded guns hanging around our freaking room?!” I’m genuinely appalled by the sheer amount of firepower this crazy bastard’s got squirrelled away in here. “What the hell do you need five for?”

“In case the other four aren’t within easy reach.” His eyes are locked on mine, face a cloud of frustration. “Emily, would you please excuse us?”

Emily looks at me, panic in her eyes. I nod at her slightly. “It’s okay,” I say. “I should have a conversation with my gun-hoarding husband.”

“Sorry,” she says as she hurries past. She gently shuts the door behind her.

Stefano doesn’t move. He’s in a tight black t-shirt, and his biceps bulge against the sleeves as he crosses his arms. It’s tucked into a pair of black slacks, perfectly fitted to his muscular legs.

The effect is obscene. He’s far too attractive, even with all the freaking guns lying around his house.

“My life isn’t set up for strangers to go rummaging around my things.”

“I don’t think anybody’s life is set up for that, but you’re in a whole different league.” I shake my head at him, completely appalled. “Don’t tell me you’ve got hand grenades in the bathroom.”

“No grenades. Just a submachine gun in the kitchen and a bazooka in the basement.”

My eyebrows raise. He stares back, unsmiling.

“I really hope you’re kidding,” I murmur, struggling to process.

God, this is frustrating. I know I didn’t do anything wrong, but now I understand why Stefano was worried about having Emily digging in his stuff.

The man’s got actual loaded weapons stashed around.

He’s probably afraid she’ll shoot herself in the face.

“I need to be able to have people around my house. Do you know what I’m saying? ”

He grunts in reply. “I hear you.”

“Thanks for those three helpful words, but I’m going to need more than that. Can you please disarm the house?”

“No.”

I throw up my hands. “Why the hell not?”

“Because my job isn’t safe.”

That shuts me up. I lower my arms, frustration like an ocean tide in my stomach.

I understood that coming into this. He’s a member of a powerful criminal organization. At best, they exist in a gray area in this city, brokering deals and amassing wealth through shady means. Stefano’s a violent man, and he’s right in the middle of all that crime.

Obviously, he’d have enemies.

Which means he needs lots and lots of guns around like a much more attractive Rambo.

But seeing the gun with my own eyes changes things. He’s not just a violent man. He’s also a killer. What else are guns for? You’re not just hurting someone with a bullet. You’re murdering them.

And the worst part is I can’t even pretend like he’s being absurd.

Because I know for a fact that one of his enemies is sleeping in his own bed and wearing his wedding ring.

I take a deep breath to steady myself. “I want to know where the guns are.”

“Why?”

“Because at least that way I can steer people away from them in the future.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Do you know how to shoot?”

“I have absolutely no reason to.”

“You’ll learn.”

“No thanks. I ride horses. I don’t blow people’s heads off.”

His mouth quirks. Is that a little smile? “I’ll teach you proper gun safety and how to handle a firearm effectively.”

“Like I said, no thank you.”

“That’s the deal. You want to know where the guns are? You have to learn how to use them.”

“You just love making deals, don’t you?” I step toward him, getting pissed again. “Remember the last deal you made? Didn’t work out great for you, did it?”

He comes toward me. I stop in my tracks, heart suddenly leaping into my throat as he lingers inches away. Not touching, but so close one wrong twitch would send him careening into me.

“Who said I lost?” He licks his lips very slowly. “I have a cherished memory to enjoy as I see fit.”

I fight against the blush I feel creeping into my cheeks. “You’re… cherishing it?”

“Every day in the shower.”

“Oh. Wow.” My eyes go saucer-wide as I picture Stefano completely naked, water running off his obscenely chiseled body in soft rivulets, his big fists pumping along his even bigger hard cock— “I mean, no, gross.”

“You said I can’t touch. You never said I can’t fantasize about fucking my wife’s pretty little pussy after spanking her into submission.”

Motherfucker.

I bite back a groan and put space between us. Did it get hot in here all of a sudden? I’m sweating for some weird reason. I can’t imagine why.

“ Fine , I’ll learn to shoot the stupid guns. Can’t be hard, right?”

“Easy as point and squeeze.”

“Great. But my personal assistant gets access to our house however I see fit.” I face him again once there’s enough room to breathe. “Don’t try to make some stupid rule about that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Very much doubt that.” I gesture at the door. “If we’re through?”

“Keep Emily away from the mattress, the top shelf in the closet, my nightstand, and the pile of books on top of the chair in the corner of the room.”

I roll my eyes. God, what a crazy person. “Understood.”

“Then by all means, enjoy yourselves.” He’s smirking slightly as he heads over to the bathroom. “I need a shower. God knows I’ll be enjoying myself too.”

I stare as he closes the door behind him. The water comes on, and shit, my stupid brain is picturing what he’s doing in there. But no, Stefano’s not going to pleasure himself with me and Emily standing out here.

Would he?

Stroking his big dick, moaning quietly so we don’t hear, thinking about me?

That bastard. He’s got me thinking about it. And that was his goal from the start.