Page 23 of Taken by the Mafia King (Kings of Philly #1)

SERA

“ T ry me, Sera.”

I stood on shaking legs, balling my hands into fists. He stood so casual, almost bored. He smirked, the stupid mouth of his curving into a smile that sent both heat and despair ripping down my spine.

“You’re a monster,” I whispered. “Why did you make me do that?”

“Do what?” He took a menacing step toward me. “Give you a chance to save that asshole’s life? Oh, I am so, so sorry.”

“You didn’t have to be so mean,” I hissed. “Whatever it is you want from me is between me and you. Not my friends.”

“Oh, cara mia . You involved them the second you made that phone call.”

“You were baiting me on purpose.”

His eyes gleamed with something I could only describe as pride, which made me even more furious with him. That initial terror I’d felt in his presence evaporated and was replaced by pure, burning fury.

If I died right now by his hand, would that be so bad? Death now could spare me pain later.

“Jim is just a teacher, like me. He teaches PE for God’s sake. I hate you, Killian. I’ve never hated anyone more than I hate you. I’d take Gabriele de Luca over you any day!”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” I bit out, but the words wobbled on my tongue. Of course, I wouldn’t take Gabriele de Luca over anyone, including Killian. Not after what he’d almost done to me. I closed a door on the memory of him on top of me. No. Don’t go there.

“I don’t believe you,” he whispered as he slowly began to close the distance between us.

I held my ground as long as possible before my body reacted and moved back a step without my permission. “Why am I here?”

No one had ever answered that question.

“Because you are a prize,” he said in a hoarse whisper that sent a shiver over my skin. “And I’m not the only one who wants you in my possession.” He pressed me against the wall, caging me in with his hands on either side of my head.

I was reminded of the sheer attraction I felt to this man as his scent hit me and his breath tickled my cheek.

“Your friend ,” he rasped, “thought he could come here and take you from me.”

I shivered, closing my eyes as his mouth hovered just above my ear.

“What I did to him was nothing, cara mia . It was nothing compared to what I wanted to do to him, knowing he thought he had some claim to what is mine .”

Oh, I’m in serious trouble.

There was no earthly reason why I should have been aching for this demon of a man right now. He’d be the death of me, one way or another. I would never be the same after this, after him .

I wanted to hate him. I thought about ripping him to shreds with my nails until he bled like he’d made Jim bleed.

But even worse, he’d made me admit a truth I’d been burying deep, deep down and never intended to admit to feeling, not even to myself.

I want to be here.

Only because there was a real possibility Killian would haunt me for the rest of my life if I didn’t at least get to taste him.

I’m officially losing my mind, I thought dimly.

“You did good.” His warm breath fanned my neck. “He seemed almost convinced you wanted to stay.”

“What would you have done if I’d told him the truth?”

“I would have killed him in front of you. He couldn’t have known what you are, and who your father is, and lived.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed, opening them again to find him looking down at me. His hand came to a rest above my chest, his thumb gliding down the column of my throat.

His touch was firm but gentle. I swallowed again involuntarily and met his gaze. Why did I suddenly want to thank him for helping me save Jim’s life?

That’s what this had been. Jim would have continued sniffing around and he’d have run into trouble somewhere, talked to the wrong people and gotten himself killed and dumped in the Atlantic Ocean or buried in a shallow grave.

Merciful.

I wouldn’t have thought that word could ever be tied to the Mano Della Morte.

“Why do you want to keep me here?” I asked. Not need to keep me but want .

He didn’t answer. Maybe it was the way my blood thrummed in my ears that knocked me off balance, or the way his thumb continued to brush over my throat, but something snapped inside of me, and all I could think about was his mouth on mine. Now.

My lips parted as I took a shallow breath and exhaled in a soft moan.

Killian went still, but I could feel his eyes on me as my lashes fluttered.

Unable to control my physical response, I rose up on my tiptoes and brushed a featherlight kiss over his mouth.

Felt the heat of his lips, the sweet, minty taste of him.

It made me feel drunk. The carpet beneath my toes turned to clouds.

The reprieve from the fear made me pull the arousal in closer.

I dared him to kiss me back as I curled my fingers in the front of his shirt.

But he had more control than I did. He let go of my neck and backed away, staring at me for a moment before he turned and walked out of the room, locking the door behind him.

My legs gave out and I crumpled into a heap.

What did I just do? Did I really just kiss him?

My eyes locked on the blood stain on the carpet and I almost threw up. I pitched forward, pressing my hands into a clean section of carpet, and sobbed. A silent, desperate scream choked me as tears fell freely down my cheeks.

What was I supposed to do? He’d gotten under my skin, manipulated me, touched me. Forced me to tell my friend I was fine and that I didn’t need saving.

He would have killed Jim. He still might.

I’d played my only hand when I’d made those two calls.

This was it. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. From him, or my own wicked desires.