Carmine

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I check the license plate of the white SUV that hit Brandon just as Eva scrambles up and crawls to her brother’s motionless frame as he lies on the ground, and I know that he hit his head.

“Oh, my god...NO! He isn’t breathing,” she cries, tentative to touch him as blood trickles behind his ear. “Brandon...” She lifts his upper body from the ground and hugs him firmly, smearing blood over her own clothes as his head lulls back.

Something akin to sympathy tightens my throat while I realize this has turned into one big clusterfuck. We’re in the middle of the street, and the damn fog is making it impossible for me to determine if anyone’s seeing us.

At that moment, my soldier, Tarek, who was staking out the area, comes toward me. “Fuck! What happened?”

“Roman’s guard hit him.”

“We’re going to need more soldiers for clean-up. I have to take care of the body you have inside,” he puts in.

Christ! I was forced to involve him when I killed Roman’s guard and texted him to clean up that body, but now I have two.

“Then do it,” I order. “But handle Brandon first.”

“I need to get him off the street, Carmine,” Tarek explains hesitantly.

I hunch down and stroke a hand over Eva’s hair. “Eva, we need to go.”

She’s weeping into her brother’s neck, so I pull her back and cup her chin, forcing her to look at me. “I can only help you if you listen to me and let my man do his work. If we stay, someone will catch us.”

“He’s dead,” she sobs in extreme disbelief as I pull her arm to stand her up and she hugs me.

I press her cheek into my chest, needing her to comply because I’m in a mess a high ranking member can’t afford to be in. “Let me take care of him.”

“What are you going to do?” Her red-rimmed eyes collide with mine, and I can’t imagine the grief someone feels when they lose a sibling.

“We need to get him off the street. Right now,” I say, and she winces, holding in her tears as I glance at the soldier.

Tarek picks Brandon up and walks to his car that’s parked behind mine, placing him on the back seat as I discreetly tell him, “Don’t burn his body at the warehouse. I’ll decide what to do with him later.”

“And the other one inside?”

“Burn him and scrub that room clean. Then sign out Brandon and take care of any outstanding bills. You’re Eva Conley’s family if anyone asks. And update me, only me, not a Capo. Do you understand?” I instruct him to cover my own ass.

I’m the fourth highest rank and not allowed to work this close with soldiers, so I have to ensure that no one informs Adriano, which a Capo would do. In addition, I’m exercising my power to help a civilian who the Syndicate believes is the enemy – I have no idea how to explain this to Adriano yet, and I don’t have a lot of time, so I’m making snap decisions I’m not sure I won’t regret.

“Okay.” He takes out his phone and starts arranging for the disposal of two bodies. The men are trained to cover any tracks fast, thank god.

Without thinking anything through, and because Eva is clinging to me in a way that makes me unable to abandon her, I steer us to my car because we need to be away from here. Eva releases me as she grasps the intimacy of our embrace, and when I open the door, she steps inside.

I follow suit quickly, climbing behind the wheel and starting the engine as she sniffs and turns her head to stare at the other vehicle until I drive away.

***

During the ride, I assemble my thoughts while Eva peeks at me in a peculiar manner, weeping and grief-stricken. For now, I have no choice but to take her to my home, but beyond that, what the fuck am I going to do? I have a wedding I must attend.

More importantly, Roman’s guard could’ve seen me through the thick haze of fog, although I don’t believe he did, but he’ll still be searching for Eva. And she’s the key to me finally piecing the entire puzzle together.

Thrown off balance, I race through the darkened streets to the Astoria Tower. After parking in the garage, I get out and Eva follows me as we pass the receptionist, who frowns at me and sends a glare to Eva because she always flirts with me.

Disregarding her, I push the elevator button and rush inside, motioning for Eva to get in too.

“Where are we going?” she asks, hesitant.

“My apartment.”

“And then what?”

Raking both hands through my hair, I try to rein in my temper and remind myself she’s not trying to aggravate me. “I don’t have all the answers, Eva. But get in before someone else sees you.”

She shuffles inside and we ride up in uncomfortable silence.

On the thirtieth floor, I unlock my door and shut it behind us after she crosses the threshold, gazing around at the vast expanse of the living room with floor-to-ceiling windows. Then she looks at her palms that are covered in dried blood and tremors start to shake her. She doesn’t make a sound as tears stream down her cheeks, and I steer her to sit on the sofa.

Rubbing my hand down my mouth, I contemplate what to do, yet she starts firing questions at me again, “Where’s Brandon? How are you making sure the police aren’t involved? And what’s your plan for me?”

I stare out the window at the clouds obscuring the moon. “I’ll bury his body.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, Eva. This is a first for me too,” I grind out.

“What do you mean?” she asks softly.

“I mean that I don’t have a plan. But don’t worry about the police; that’s the least of our problems. My soldier knows how to clean a crime scene. There won’t be a trace of the dead guard in Brandon’s room.”

When I mention his name, she naturally begins to cry, and once again, I feel guilt toward this woman. This woman who never asks for help, even when she desperately needs it. Who apparently stands on her own, even after being tortured.

I hunch down before her as she looks at me with red streaks staining her skin.

“Right now I don’t know what to do because I’m still missing some information. Information you can clear up for me if we both agree to exchange everything we know. I need to be able to anticipate Roman’s next move, and I’m involved now and was possibly even seen, so you have to answer my questions for both our safety, okay?”

“Okay.” Tentatively, she sits back, swiping her tears with the back of her hands.

“Why is Roman using you to get to the Syndicate? Start from the beginning of why I was at that party and anything else you know.”

She expels a loud breath while racking her brain, biting her lip and gazing at the pictures of my family on the side table before explaining, “I think to please his sister, although he also had another agenda.”

My brows rise in astonishment.

“I’m not positive, but I got the feeling he was lying to his sister about his intentions for you and the Syndicate. I don’t know anything for sure, but I did hear some of their conversations. As far as I know, Roman saw us in Club 7 when I-I took your watch, and then he waited for me outside to offer me the job as an escort; he never said anything about you. He never told me his plan, and he just constantly gave me conflicting orders last weekend after he saw our interactions, which were only about your watch. So Roman tailed me on Saturday afternoon to Orchard Children’s Institute, where he threatened to kill Brandon; that’s the only reason I obeyed him, to protect my brother.” Her face contorts as more tears roll down her cheeks, yet I stay still and allow her to continue, “He wanted to know more about the Syndicate business – he wanted me to steal your phone, and I believe he ordered several other escorts to do so as well, which is why I warned you. But he got nowhere because you were smarter, and I decided to just try to get through the party. On Sunday, I truly thought our plan had worked, but Roman took me to his office, where Liam was waiting with a guard. He shot Liam’s hand and smashed my nose until I confessed that you were aware that I wasn’t his girlfriend. And from then on, he’s kept me captive because, I believe, he’s waiting to see if Gwen gets her claws in you. Then Roman is going to renegotiate his deal with the Syndicate; they mentioned something like that.”

My instinct tells me to trust her, yet some things don’t add up, so I probe, “But does Gwen now know about her brother’s intention to renegotiate?”

“Yes, she’s in on everything now, but she’s asked him to let her handle the Syndicate and you. Gwen seems to think that dating you will help your business agreement. She’s...very infatuated with you. She told Roman you were fine with how they plotted to get you there,” she informs, and I grit my teeth in agitation.

Well, Gwen lied to her brother, and I finally grasp the extent of her fascination with me.

I tilt my head to the side. “Is that everything you know? Because I still don’t understand how you were able to visit Brandon if Roman and Gwen were keeping you captive.”

She scowls at me. “I thought Gwen might be more human than her brother, so I asked her. She helped me, but I never thought she’d order a guard to kill one of us! So yes, that’s everything I know. And I promise that’s the truth because I have nothing to lose anymore.” Her voice rises as grief makes way for anger. “Roman has taken everything from me within a week. And for what? You all just used me for your games, and now my brother, who was innocent, died!” She buries her face in her hands, adding, whisper-soft, “Because of my own stupidity.”

Without question, I accept what she’s saying as true because it all matches what happened. Knowing what she’s gone through over the past few days, I’m overwhelmed by sympathy and even impressed that she’s not hysterical.

As she looks up again, I say, “It’s not your fault. Don’t go down that road.”

Her eyelashes lower and another tear seeps out. “I’ve told you the truth. Can you give me some answers too?”

I nod, regarding her fragile state while she stares at her bloodied hands.

“Why did you help me at the mansion?”

“For the same reason you helped me; because even though you antagonized me, I chose to trust you over Roman. And I was right to do so.” But unfortunately, it got her into more trouble and tied our paths together in ways we could have never foreseen.

She relaxes slightly, yet her anguish remains visible. “I don’t know what to do. If I go home, Roman and Gwen will find me. What will they do?”

“You can’t go home,” I state and Eva’s head snaps up. I’m not letting her go because I need to keep an eye on her until I’ve formed a strategy. But before she starts protesting, I hold out my palm. “Come on. You can clean up downstairs.”

Hesitantly, she places her warm hand in mine and I twine them to lead the way down the black staircase that ends in the master bedroom. Although I never hold hands with anyone, she and I seem to always be clutching each other in one way or another.

Her shoes click off the hardwood floor as we pass a seating area next to the window that overlooks the city skyline and then my king-size bed that’s facing a flat screen before we reach the glass partition that separates the bedroom from the bathroom.

She appears to be mesmerized as she gazes from the high ceiling, down to the black marble tub to our right, and over to the sink and shower stall.

I release her hand and offer, “Go shower. I’ll leave clothes on the bed.”

In a flash, she discards my jacket and flings her dress over her head, draping it neatly over the edge of the tub before she steps into the stall and turns the knob, needing to scrub the blood off herself. I stare at the sway of her wide hips, and as she glances over her shoulder, I move back to the far side of the bedroom, between my bed and the seating area, where there’s a door that leads into the walk-in closet.

Inside, I seize my phone from my pocket, seeing missed calls and messages from Adriano asking where the hell I am. By this time, it’s already nine p.m. and I’m not in the mood to go to a wedding. Without responding, I toss my phone onto the dresser and slide open the top drawer to take out clean boxer briefs. I swap my stained tux for a pair of black sweats and get a dress shirt for Eva.

When I return to my bedroom, I see her huddled in the shower, crying and hugging her knees to her chest – most likely, the reality of her situation has sunk in and she’s finally broken down.

I throw the clean clothes on the bed, and before I know it, I’m crossing the distance into the bathroom, pulling a towel from the cabinet beside the sink, and opening the stall. She’s shivering as the stream of hot water rinses her black hair.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I mumble.

And while she doesn’t even realize she’s naked, my body is quite aware of it when I turn the faucet knob and wrap the towel around her to lift her up in my arms, recognizing how she feels, much to my chagrin, because I’ve had her up close and personal often.

She brackets her arms around my neck as I walk to the bed, curling into me when I sit on the edge. For a second, I’m motionless until I feel her sobs vibrating through her body. I loop my arm around her back, resting one hand on the curve of her hip and using the other to towel dry her hair, and as I hug her to keep her warm, my dick twitches when I dab the swell of her breasts dry.

She remains in the same position, clutching me, and without thinking, I press my cheek to the top of her head, simply holding her for an infinite amount of time. Occasionally, she sniffs, lost in her sorrow, while her grip remains solid.

Eventually, I shift backward to the headboard and we stay like that as she mourns her little brother, something I can’t even imagine. And I wonder what she’s thinking? I’d want to exact revenge, but how does a normal civilian react? How does Eva react? My interest in her, which I can no longer deny or negate, has me wanting to know more about her.

I swipe my hand up and down her leg in comfort, and goosebumps form on her smooth skin.

When Eva’s been quiet for what must be over an hour, I rest my chin on the top of her head and ask, “What are you thinking?”

It’s quiet for so long that I believe she’s not going to answer until her husky voice speaks, “I feel guilty.”

“I meant it when I said that you really shouldn’t.”

“But you don’t know everything.”

“I know enough to know that it’s not your fault, little thief,” I say gently while her fingers stroke my skin as she grasps my side, and for some reason, it’s becoming more comfortable.

“I should’ve never started working at Club 7.”

“Why did you?” I want to know.

“Because the fee for the children’s institute is so high.”

Anger rises in me, swift and hot, and I’m caught off guard by the intensity of the primitive emotion. What does it matter to me if she was forced to be an escort due to money issues? Common sense says it’s hardly my business. But unfortunately, common sense holds no sway with what I’m feeling. Eva entangled in the escort business is so wrong that I have to restrain myself from ranting about the countless horrific fates that could befall an innocent woman in this merciless underworld. It’s too late for that anyway. She’s experiencing that grim fate at present. “Is that why you became...?”

“A whore?” she fills in, and I stop my movement for a moment in annoyance.

“I was going to say an escort. How long ago did you start?” My palm roams up her shin again.

“Why do you want to know all of this? After tonight, we’ll probably never see each other again.”

“You’ve said that before, yet here we are in my bedroom together.” I don’t reveal that she’s the first woman who’s been in here. “I want to know because you call yourself a whore all the time, but you’re much better than that. I want to know because it’s your story,” I admit quietly and order, “Stop calling yourself a whore.”

Suddenly, she sits up, still slanted sideways, and the towel falls open, giving me a clear view of her pink nipples. “Why?”

My gaze shoots up as her round eyes that are swollen from crying meet mine. “Because it pisses me off.” I rest my hand on her knee as she frowns, watching me like she’s trying to solve a mystery.

Then she leans against me again, sighing, “Oh, okay.”

I continue rubbing her leg, making her relax even more, and repeating, “So how long ago did you start?”

“I was an escort for about six months. I hated it and will never do it again.”

I agree – she won’t. At least as long as I have anything to say about it. However, I already knew from Tez that she didn’t have many clients and wasn’t a profitable escort.

“My only job was at Club 7 and at Roman’s party, where I’d planned to get through without entertaining anyone. While I succeeded in not having to sleep with anyone, I lost something more important in the end.”

“Why did you take care of your brother? Where are your parents?”

“We have no parents,” she clarifies, and it saddens me to hear her talk about we. “I never met my father, and my mother left us last year.”

Christ. She doesn’t know her mother is dead.

“Your mother abandoned you? Why?”

“Because she’s a drunk and someone who never should have had children. Even before she left, she was useless. I was at school, hoping she wasn’t too intoxicated to neglect Brandon, and afterward, I rushed home to take care of him. But when she bolted, I had to drop out of college or else he would have been alone during the day. And as the months went by, he needed more special care, but even though I worked full-time as a waitress, I still couldn’t afford it. I exhausted every option before I decided to work at Club 7. I have—had a brother for whom I had to sell my body so that he could live in a society that didn’t know how to deal with people like him.”

“They could’ve dealt with him,” I counter, and she looks up, disillusioned.

Deep down, I understand she’s correct. I recall how difficult it is for my mother to explain her condition. People either feel sorry for her or sever ties. Only, my mother has us, and we have wealth, which makes life a lot easier and is the main reason why we hold on to the power we’ve amassed.

“Maybe in your world, but not in mine, not on the streets.”

“You’ve slept on the streets?” I ask, genuinely shocked.

“Yes, once. Right after my mother left, Brandon and I got kicked out of the apartment because she didn’t pay the rent. And we slept outside for a day. I pretended we were camping, but luckily, I found us a tiny apartment. When I started to look for schools for him, I befriended Kayley, the receptionist at Orchard Children’s Institute and she told me it would be a good place for him. He needed structure I couldn’t provide, and eventually, I concluded that my only chance to make money quickly was working at Club 7’s sex club. It took months for me to make that decision. All I did for a year was survive, and even before that, I never lived at all.” Her voice breaks.

“Jesus Christ.” I comb my fingers through my hair and mess it up, realizing how good the course of my life has been. “You’re the only woman who’s ever made me feel like a complete ass.”

She impresses me by saying, “I have called you one often.”

“You have.”

“Does Gwen not make you feel like an ass? With her game?”

“Another kind of ass, yes,” I confess.

“Is she your ex-girlfriend?”

“No.”

“She told her brother you like her...”

“Did she now...” I return, not answering the question she doesn’t dare to ask, but then she surprises me.

“Please don’t patronize me. You know what I’m asking; I gave you answers too.”

“Very well.” I feel my jaw tighten. Damn, I’m not used to being called out so cavalierly by anyone, let alone a woman. “I have no interest in Gwen.”

Her eyes hold mine, her greyish irises fascinating me as usual.

Brazenly, she asks, “Why did you keep the watch she gave you?”

Her sadly honest expression prompts me to reply, “Because she’s the only woman I’ve fucked who didn’t argue with me when I dumped her. She just gave me the watch anyway, and it made much more of an impact than any argument or object being thrown at my head ever did. I guess I’d like to believe that the man she once saw is still inside me. Somehow, it prevents me from feeling lonely in this ruthless world.”

“I don’t get why you’re lonely. You have a family – I saw the pictures upstairs and”—she waves her hand around—“you have money. You have everything, Carmine.”

“I guess lonely isn’t the right word.”

“I guess we’re all just looking for something,” she mumbles around a sniff.

“Like what?”

“We don’t know until we’ve found it,” she puts in tentatively, and I realize she’s right. “But you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

I chuckle. “Are we back to annoying each other?”

With a despondent grin, she retorts, “I hope not.”

My hand brushes her wet strands of hair away from her forehead as we sit there half naked. In all her sorrow, she isn’t aware of the havoc her luscious breasts are wreaking on me.

“Thank you for...just thank you,” she says huskily, keeping my gaze captive.

Even though we don’t discuss it any further, it appears as if our eyes are saying a thousand words. I can see her grief, and after learning more about her, I’ve become more impressed by this fiery woman who’s barreled in and shaken up my well-organized life.

Then, at the worst fucking moment, my dick twitches when she moves and she stills instantly. I have to leave this bed because it’s been entirely too goddamn long, and her power to distract me is too strong to resist.

However, she shifts off me, holding the towel, yet it barely covers her breasts and the apex of her thighs, so I point at the dress shirt I threw onto the bed. “You can wear that.” And as I stand up, her head whips up to me.

“Where are you going?” she asks, kneeling on the sheets as she drapes the shirt over her shoulders and releases the towel.

Inwardly, I groan, watching Eva sliding her arms into my dress shirt and sexily sweeping her hair over one shoulder as she fastens only one button.

I shake my head. “You can sleep here. I’ll be upstairs.”

Her expression turns even sadder, and something inside me hates it.

“Please stay with me,” she pleads in the most vulnerable voice. “I don’t want to be alone.”

I should walk away. Learning anything else about Eva will only complicate this matter more. Yet I do the exact opposite and lie on the bed, exhausted all of a sudden. I lift up so that Eva can push the ivory sheets down and then she gets in next to me, pulling the covers over us.

Unpredictably, she rolls to her side, facing me with her eyes closed, and I see tears seeping from the corners of them and dripping onto the pillow, but she doesn’t make a sound. Turning to her as well, I skim my hand up her hip and as her lashes lift, our gazes lock.

Both of us are quiet. The silence is far too intimate, and it intimidates me. I clear my throat, needing to make some noise.

“Sleep,” I whisper, and she presses her eyes shut again.

In the meantime, I’m exhausted but try to stay awake, although the warmth her body creates beneath the sheets has sleep pulling at me.

In the stillness, I realize I can’t just fall asleep with her next to me because distrust is inherent to my livelihood. I get out of the bed and she doesn’t stir as I go into the walk-in closet and snatch a tie from the rack.

After returning to the bed, I slip it around her wrist and tie it loosely so that when she moves, it’ll tighten. And I secure the other end around the bedpost at her side, leaving enough space for her to move, before I lie back under the covers.

Gazing at the high ceiling, I have no idea what to do with Eva Conley as I drift off from fatigue.

***

Toes slide down my leg as I nuzzle Eva’s neck, half asleep, relishing the way her body is pressing into mine while my arm is thrown around her middle, and I rub my morning wood against her warm ass. My hand skims up her soft stomach until my fingertips touch the bottom swell of her breast. Turned on, I cup it and it fits perfectly in my palm as I massage it roughly. I hear a soft moan coming from her right before I undo the button of the dress shirt. For a second, I squint my eye open and peer down at the blushy tips of her breasts, aching to bury my cock in her. Good judgment has vanished, and I push my sweats and boxers down, pressing my naked front to her back. Then I grind the tip of my erection between her legs, and it turns rock-hard when I feel the heat of her.

Grazing my lips up her neck, I grip her breast and bite her shoulder, intoxicated by her coconut scent and irresistible smooth skin.

Her hand tangles into my hair as she sighs while we writhe against each other. I’m far beyond rational thought. I’m making horrible decisions in quick succession without thinking of the consequences, but I don’t care due to my lust for this woman.

I slide my hand up her cleavage, folding my fingers around her throat. With my lips at the shell of her ear, I rub the length of my cock over her wet core and decide to take what I want. However, just as I’m about to thrust into her, there’s a jolt to my midsection.

“You tied me up?!” Once more, an elbow hits my stomach. “Carmine!”

I ease both eyes open, and the sky is pink, indicating it’s dawn. But unfortunately, that delectable ass isn’t writhing against me anymore. Instead, an elbow is wildly attempting to push me off.

“Get off me. For Christ’s sake. Carmine!”

“What?!” I complain in agitation.

“Wake up!”

When I hear her voice clearly now that I’m coming awake, I realize she’s pissed that I bound her, of course. “What, Eva?”

“You fucking tied me up?” she glares at me over her shoulder as I lift my head.

Oh, yes, now I’m wide awake and skate away from her as if she’s just burned me. What the hell am I doing almost fucking her?

Eva rolls to her back and jerks her arm, showing the tie attached to the bedpost to try to catch my attention. “Helloooo!” She gives me an incredulous look.

“Shut up for a minute,” I retort, jumping up and scrubbing my palm down my face. I inhale deeply, wanting to organize my jumbled thoughts.

I slept with her all night? In my bed? Spooning? This is not going how I’d planned at all. 

“Carmine!” she repeats with bite.

“What?!”

Eva tugs the tie, stretching it. “You tied me up?!”

“That’s a correct observation,” I answer absentmindedly while adjusting my cock in my boxers. 

Eva glances at my hard-on before her glower shoots back up to my face, and she asks pointedly, “Can you untie it?”

I incline my head to the side, momentarily distracted by the ivory sheets that are tangled around her waist so that her hard nipples are in my line of sight, and I groan when my dick twitches. This woman is going to be the death of me. I want to stick my cock in her and unleash my every depraved fantasy on her without considering the ramifications.

I close my eyes tightly. Focus. Stay focused.

“Yes,” I say as I round the bed.

Eva is scowling at me while I sit on the edge of the mattress, taking her wrist in my lap and massaging her skin, which she allows. Her grey irises are glazed over, and the red veins in the whites are unmistakably visible – evidence of her sorrow.

“Why did you tie me up?” she asks, a flash of wariness clouding her features.

But before I can answer, I hear a knock on the front door upstairs. An incessant knocking that doesn’t bode well, causing Eva to surge off the bed.

I mirror the act and capture her to make sure she remains silent.