Page 90 of Thorns of Silence

“Why does it feel like you’re about to do something reckless?” Manuel stated, eyeing me with a suspicious gleam in his eyes. The fucker must have been watching Athena and picked up on something. It didn’t escape me the way he eyed her, like she was his next meal.

Konstantin let out a sardonic breath, his eyes sharpening on me. “Somehow I think you’re right, Manuel.”

I needed to remain two steps ahead of everyone, and once I followed through with my plan, I’d need all the help I could get not to get into a full-blown war with Romero. They said a smart man never divulged his plan until the timing was opportune and the success inevitable. Well, my timing was approaching, and then all hell would break loose.

Marchetti and Illias started discussing nannies. Supposedly Marchetti knew a nanny whisperer. Rolling my eyes, I tuned them out. I took a sip of my beer and draped an arm over the back of my chair, betraying no hint of emotion on my face. Or eagerness. I was so close to rolling this plan out. I just needed Amon to get his fucking ass in gear.

Marchetti whistled under his breath. “Be careful what you risk, Dante.”

I worked hard to keep my temper in check. I didn’t need their fucking preaching.

“Probably too late,” Boris declared, waggling his brows. Where the fuck did he come from? I was so tempted to put a bullet in his skull and wipe out what he saw earlier. Instead, I ground my teeth down to my molars, counting to ten in my head before I turned tonight into a murder scene.

The waiter showed up, placing a bottle of scotch on the table alongside a bucket of beers.

A commotion reached my eardrums and the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. The women were approaching us, Phoenix included. Fuck, I loved her dark curls. Fuck the whole blonde thing. It didn’t do jack shit for me.

Phoenix Romeo, on the other hand, did it all. She could just flutter her eyes and I’d get a hard-on.

I watched her as she pushed her soft curls out of her eyes. The vein in my neck throbbed as I stared at her, needing her more by the second. She was the source of my blood flow, the oxygen in my veins. I couldn’t wait to make her mine.

“We’re ready to go,” Isla told her husband, smiling adoringly.

Enrico was on his feet in a heartbeat. “I’m ready whenever you are, dolcezza.” I had no fucking idea how he managed to keep up with her. Enrico was twice her age and twice as boring.

It took all my self-control to remain still while Enrico and Manuel ushered the drunk women out of here, every one of them shooting me glares. It would seem I was a popular topic of that group.

“I’m out too,” Konstantin announced as he stood up, adjusting his cuffs. “My wife’s pregnant and needs a lot of sleep.”

I scoffed. “The fact that she’s pregnant is a testament to the fact that she probably doesn’t get much sleep.”

He let out an amused breath. “I’m looking forward to witnessing how you fare in your own marriage.”

I sincerely doubted it, but I kept the comment to myself. The sooner he made himself scarce, the sooner I could go after Phoenix.

Ten minutes later, I made my way out of the venue and my steps faltered.

No. Fucking. Way.

As blood rushed to my head, I stared at the car, blinking a couple of times to make sure I was seeing straight.

Someone set my car on fire and I suspected I knew exactly who.

THIRTY-FIVE

PHOENIX

He was marrying my sister but watching me.

From the moment we arrived at this doomed rehearsal dinner, I’d felt his eyes burning a hole through me, and no amount of liquor could erase him from my memory.

He conveniently forgot me. Fucking again.

My anger was so strong I could kill him where he stood with a smile on my face. Okay, that might be far-fetched, but I was furious. Anger stretched in my chest, threatening to snap and let my fury loose.

Like he was my vice, my eyes kept connecting to his all evening. Each look he gave me seared, dark and hot, full of dark promises. God help me. If our plan to have Reina escape her marriage was unsuccessful, I’d spend the rest of my life craving and, at the same time,hatingmy sister’s husband.

I jutted my chin spitefully, hoping he’d see the hate in my eyes rather than anything else. A muscle in his jaw tightened each time our gazes connected, and a small amount of satisfaction filled me. It might be petty, but I fully believed in the healing power of revenge.