Page 64 of The Wicked

“You called me Sport at the poolside; now we’re almost even, unless you call me Sport again. I make no promises—”

I closed the distance between us, my palm slamming on the wall, an inch above her head, and a gasp left her, wide eyes staring up at me. The bright light in the storage room popped out the freckles on her cheek. I could smell whatever treatment she used on her hair, and in a swift moment, I was back on that roof with—Matter at hand.

“Did you forget what I told you the last time we saw eachother? If you caused any problems for me, the drowning would seem like a walk in the park?”

“You’re the one who dragged me in here like you wanted to fuck my brains out.”

That made my thoughts cease. “No, I did not.”

She relaxed, her lips curving in a smile. “We’re in some kind of supply closet.” She inched higher, standing on her toes as her gaze lowered to my lips, and I mirrored her action like her eyes had controlled mine. “And you’re so close; you’re towering over me.” Her teeth clamped on her bottom lip swiftly before releasing it. “Now you can’t even stop looking at my lips like you want to kiss me.”

I felt the heat between our bodies. Warm and subtle, as I locked my gaze with hers.

When I didn’t pull away, the amusement died in her eyes, and this time, when her gaze flickered to my lips, it wasn’t deliberate.

I pulled back, keeping as much distance between us as I could, mentally knocking myself in the head and shoving both hands into my pockets to avoid unintentionally getting them anywhere close to her.

It was almost as if I’d lost all sense of reason when I saw her outside that window because I couldn’t remember what I’d been thinking when I decided to pull her in here with me.

“¿Qué quieres?”What do you want?

She cleared her throat, standing straighter. “Ayudarte,” she answered.To help you.

I raised a brow.“With what?”I continued in Spanish.

“With Edoardo,”she said, reaching into the tote and pulling out a flat brown paper bag. “In here are documents proving Dion’s illegal dealings outside the knowledge of their whole syndicate. Embezzling, cover-ups, and selling out close family secrets to rival families.” She responded in Spanish, so fluent that it filled something empty in me. I was just as impressed as I’d been the first time she had spoken it at long length, but unlike the last time, when I didn’t care to press on how she learned, I was now inquisitive.

She waved her hand in front of my face, and I blinked, taking my hands from my pockets and collecting the file before removing the papers and skimming through them. I glanced at her before looking back at the documents and asking,“How did you get this?”

“Some secrets are mine to keep, Elio.”She smiled.

I frowned.“This whole back-and-forth secret affair thing you have going on is starting to irritate me.”

“That sounds like ayouproblem. Get those papers to Edoardo and tell him you found out Dion was a sleazy bastard, and you took care of it because he was about to mess up one of your projects together. He’ll thank you and forever be indebted to you because Edoardo is traditional like that. Don’t ask me how I know.”

I eyed her; the need to ask pinched at my insides, but I dropped it. “Why are you giving me this?”

Something shifted in her eyes, and she swallowed.

I sighed. “This is not for free, is it?”

Her lips thinned as she sucked in a breath. “While I would have loved to give you those papers for free because I caused this mess, and I always fix up my shit… we need your help.”

“The audacity you have is incomprehensible.”

Frustration lined her brows. “I know we were supposed to stay indoors like good little obedient hostages. But this is pretty important.”

I knew I should walk out and ignore how tight her tone had gotten, but instead, I asked, “What do you want?”

“Almost four months ago, we were paid for a job that’s supposed to happen today; we lost contact with the client for a long time, and they only just reached out two days ago.”

“I thought you worked on your own terms.”

“It was a hard time for Street.”

I frowned. “I’m listening.”

“It’s to steal a painting.” She fished inside her bag, brought out a phone, scrolled for a bit, and turned the screen to me. “It’sa really weird painting of a chihuahua. It’s not the prettiest thing, but—it’s something these people want.”