Page 78 of Thorns of Death

“She told me my mother was…isin one of your brothels. That she’s a whore.”

She gulped, her bottom lip quivering. My chest squeezed painfully, but I ignored it. I couldn’t afford weaknesses. It was peculiar… The sorrow of others never bothered me. My sons were the exception of course, but otherwise, I found myself indifferent to it. When it came to Isla, I hated seeing it on her face. I wanted to be her villainandher savior. I wanted to make her smile and be the only one to make her cry. But those would be tears of pleasure, not pain.

I inclined my head. “Do you believe her?”

“Don’t play mind games with me, Enrico,” she countered. “I want the truth. I deserve it.”

She was right. She deserved the truth, but it was neither the time nor the place for it. I wanted her first as my wife with no chance of turning back. Once she was mine and had no opportunity—or intention—to run away from me, then I’d tell her the truth.

“You want to know the truth?” She nodded. “Then marry me, and I’ll tell you everything.”

I watched, fascinated, as Isla’s entire demeanor changed. Her temper flared like an erupting volcano. Something dark flickered in her eyes, and I realized at that very moment there was a lot more to her than met the eye. Gone was the sunshine, smiling young woman. In its place was her wrath.

“Marry you,” she repeated, sneering. “You’re deranged, just like your wife. Let me tell you the reasons why I won’t be marrying you.” She lifted her hand to list off each item on French-manicured fingernails. “Firstly, you arealreadymarried. To that crazy woman that seems really out there. You should check into that shit.” She had no idea I’d had Donatella in and out of institutions for the past thirteen years. “Secondly, you are a lying cheater. Thirdly, apparently you’re also a criminal. A disgusting human who has brothels. Brothels! I don’t want to be in the same room with you, never mind marry you.”

She raised an eyebrow, challenging me. But I refused to be baited. I’d have to play this right and win my bride. With blackmail, naturally.

“I don’t have any brothels, and I’d strongly advise you to reconsider your words. Unless you’d like your friends and family to pay for your disobedience. Particularly, your friend Reina.”

A soft gasp left her soft pink lips and horror entered her expression before she pulled herself together and set her chin stubbornly.

“You might think you’re the only criminal I know, but you’re wrong. I can get a bigger and badder wolf to come after you.”

I shot her a grin that usually terrified the men that worked for me. “I’m ready for it,piccolina. But don’t cry wolf when you see your brother and friends hurt.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

Her creamy skin flushed. “My brother will destroy you,” she snapped.

“You mean the one that killed your mother?” The moment I said the words, I regretted them, but I ignored the pang in my chest that I understood was guilt. I ignored the pain that flashed in her eyes. I couldn’t afford to be weak. I had to get her cooperation at all costs.

I advanced on her, the soles of my Italian leather shoes firm against the floor. Isla started to back away, but I didn’t stop. Not until I came chest to chest with her, her back against the wall.

Fear flashed in her gaze, but there was something else there too. Desire. Hunger matching my own. Her pulse throbbed at the base of her throat, and it took all my self-control not to lower my mouth and suck on it.

Then, as if she remembered we were arguing, she lifted her chin. “Stop trying to intimidate me.”

I sneered. “Piccolina, I don’t need to intimidate you. You’re already scared.” The desire to touch her won out, and I brought my thumb to the base of her throat, trailing it softly. God, that scent of hers would drive me insane. Coconuts mixed with her arousal. It was intoxicating. “And trust me, I can make one phone call and have your friends dead, just like that. I’ll start with the youngest and work my way from there.”

She licked her lips, her chest rising and falling. “Are you insane?” she breathed.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I’mpazzofor you.”

And Iwasfucking crazy for her. I was prepared to start a war against her brotherandthe Brazilian cartel for her. After all, she was the unknown Bratva and cartel princess. They didn’t know about her yet, but it was only a matter of time before they learned. Then they’d come for her, but as my wife, they wouldn’t be able to take her away from me.

She stared at me, her eyes unreadable. They sparkled like emeralds under the sun. You could almost see the way she was weighing her options and not liking the conclusions she was reaching.

“If I marry you, you won’t touch my brother or my friends.” We stared at each other, her scent seeping into my lungs and threatening to overtake me. My control teetered on the edge, and my impulses urged me to bury myself inside her, right here and now.

She was heaven. I was hell. Together we were the perfect sin. How could she not see—feel—that?

“Marry me and they’ll be safe.”

Her eyes darted to my mouth before locking with mine. “You won’t touch Reina regardless of what she might have done or anything we were accomplices in. Swear it!”

Her response piqued my interest. My threat with regard to Reina was merely a tactic. I knew from Kingston that the girls were protective of each other, but in particular toward the youngest member of their group. Twenty-one-year-old Reina.