CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LUCIANO
“That was quick. I thought it would take longer.” Tossing Marco a middle finger, I took a deep, hard breath of air that smelled of nothing but sex. Behind me, my brother shut the door with a short chuckle, and I pulled open the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. “No offense, of course. I don’t know what it’s like to have sex with someone I care about. I can imagine that’d make for a quick nut.”
My lip curled at that, and Marco held up his hands in surrender. Ripping off the cap, I lifted the bottle to my lips to take heavy gulps. My legs still trembled, and behind my boxers my cock ached; it put me in a good enough mood to ignore my brother’s idiot comments. Swerving to Aya as she sat on my bed, my eyes narrowed on her bunched-up form. She shivered noticeably, her chin resting on her knees while she stared back at me with the sweetest smile curving her lips.
“Georgio hasn’t called or anything yet.” Sauntering over to Aya, I caressed her hot, red cheek as Marco’s declaration prickled my spine. My mind still moved sluggishly, desperately clinging to the vestige of this woman. Slipping the water bottle into her hand, I clenched my jaw as the contents splattered up the plastic from her shaking.
“He won’t call. He’d rather give up on her than fuck with me. Non ho bisogno di una ragione per rovinarla, e sarebbe sciocco farne uno. There are plenty of other whores to torture without risking his life.” Marco stared at my back, and I could sense his doubt. He didn’t know Georgio like I did, though. He didn’t spend his life living in that mansion, being molded and warped by that sick piece of shit.
No- you decided to take this for yourself, as yourself.
“So all that’s left is Sylvi…” Glancing at my brother, I nodded curtly while my hands balled into tight fists at my side. Marco all but grinned, but he’d never liked our boss. All he saw was an insecure chicken shit that needed to beat on women to affirm his power.
At least Georgio doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not, though.
“I’ll gladly see to your ragazza di coniglio.” Stiffening at the sing song quality in Marco’s voice, I narrowed my eyes on him as his grin turned shit-eating. My lip curled, revealing clenched teeth bared in threat, and I took a deep breath of the heavy air with flared nostrils.
“We’re leaving.” Bending to retrieve my shirt, my gruff command only pulled another chuckle from Marco. In my peripheral I watched him shake his head, and I clenched my jaw tightly before tossing the fabric at Aya. Her dress was ruined, and I wasn’t going to go buy more any time soon.
Locking the door behind us, I shoved my keys into my pocket before taking Aya’s wrist in my palm. Her pulse throbbed wildly, skin sticky and warm, and I reached to scratch my jaw with my free hand. Fucking her had been short and intense, but I didn’t necessarily want to do it again. Frowning at the thought, I glanced down at her still pinked face and wide, sparkling eyes.
It was a necessity to take her. To keep her from harm’s way. To remove the one thing Georgio wanted from her. He wouldn’t want her now. Aya was too used to physical pain because of Trevor. That piece of garbage had done her favor, bruising her porcelain skin.
Taking the hallway in long, purposeful strides, I held back a groan at the thoughts that swirled behind my eyes. There was nothing wrong with not wanting to fuck Aya. I just wanted her near me, looking at me like I was her world.
I sound like a fucking idiot.
“Fratello…” Marco’s call paused my trek, the screen door handle clenched in my tight fist. Glancing back, I narrowed my eyes on the sagely expression he wore; it never ceased to irritate the shit out of me how easily he could sense me. “It’s okay to admit it, you know.”
His gaze flickered to Aya, and my lips twisted into a sneer even as his unspoken words floated around us. Pushing open the door roughly, I shielded my gaze from the bright sunlight before catching sight of my car. It was still where I’d left it, and I pulled out my keys to thumb the ‘unlock’ button.
Aya took up her spot in the passenger seat, and I rolled down my window before tossing her my near empty pack of cigarettes. Backing out of the small lot, I flexed my fingers against the wheel with a grimace.
“… Are you going to kill Sylvi?” Navigating the busy streets of the city, I scowled at Aya’s probing. Tightening my grip on the wheel, my hands itched to connect with Sylvi’s pretty boy face. My mind worked slowly, weighing the pros of killing my so-called brother against the cons.
“No.” Drawling my answer, I reached to take my cigarette between stiff fingers before continuing. “Killing Sylvi means I’ll be investigated. If Georgio is still pissed I didn’t choose him, he could use it as an excuse to order a contract on me. Even if he’s alive, living with Sylvi is still better than dodging assassins until they give up.”
Not to mention they’ll probably go after you instead. Wrapping my lips around the butt of my cancer stick, I took a deep inhale as the thought trickled into my scope of attention. You wouldn’t be able to handle that, mia Aya.
“But Marco said anyone that’s not dead is a problem…” Glancing over the center console, my eyes narrowed on Aya as she watched me with anxious expectation. Her tremors had died, cheeks pale and somewhat gaunt, and I exhaled roughly before turning my gaze back to the road.
“He’s right, but killing Sylvi only makes the problem worse, Aya. Someone else will get sent to replace him. Georgio will come back.” Tossing my spent cigarette out the window, I grimaced at the scenario that played behind my eyes. Chances were that Georgio would send someone fresh and young to replace Sylvi; someone I wasn’t going to cater to. Georgio will come from Italy as often and for as long as he wants.
“S- so… you have to hurt him- want to hurt him- but not too bad?” My nod only produced a sullen silence, and I reached to brush Aya’s cheek. I knew why she wanted Sylvi to die; he could warp and twist anyone’s mind easily. She’d experienced that first hand, and it terrified her.
“I told you not to worry about it, mia Aya. There are fates worse than death, and Sylvi will become well acquainted with them if he tries his shit again.” All of the ways I could pound on Sylvi flashed through my mind’s eye, and I tightened my grip on the wheel. The memory of his anxiety at lunch tightened my muscles, and I could hear his swine-like squeals ringing in my ears.
Speeding up, I took a deep, stabilizing breath to quell the bloodlust that coursed through my veins. My knuckles ached to drive into Sylvi’s face- to ruin that thing about him that made him so successful. Twitching in irritation, my cheek strained as I clenched my jaw.
Tyler was right, as usual- Sylvi should’ve shot Aya. The very fact that she was alive, with me, safe, was going to ensure his suffering.
“Luciano?” Brought from my murderous thoughts, I grunted absently as I navigated my way through the city. “Are we going to stay at Sylvi’s?”
Aya’s tentative question worked the wheels in my head, and I reached to rub my face. Releasing my lungful in a gust, I took a turn roughly before opening my mouth.
“Yes. Now stop asking me about it, Aya.” Grinding out the command through my teeth, I rolled my head to ease some tension. It did nothing- there would be no relief until after I’d dealt with my brother.