Page 75 of Trapped
My jaw clenched. “What if I don’t?”
“The men guarding that villa are Costa soldiers. They’re loyal to the Family, and they’ve been reporting everything back to Vinn. He told me to tell you that,” Kill said, unease creeping into his tone. “He also wants you to know that if you don’t come back, he’s ordered his soldiers to take you both out.”
“That’s extreme.”
“You disobeyed a direct order.”
“I’m a fucking captain. I don’t get some leeway?”
He heaved another heavy sigh. “Look, I’m sure you can smooth this over with him. Calm down, board a plane, and get your ass back to Boston.”
TWENTY-SIX
DELILAH
“Dad, I can’t believe you did this,” I hissed into the phone. “You sent men to kill Santino? Have you completely lost your mind? How could you?”
I paused, my breath hitching as I struggled to find the words. “He’s the only person who’s ever protected me. And you…you tried to take that away. I don’t know how you found us, but I swear toGod, if you ever come near us again, if you so much as breathe in our direction, I’ll make sure you regret it. I’m not your little girl anymore, and I won’t let you control my life. Stay the hell away from us. I mean it, Dad. This is the last time you’ll ever try to hurt someone I care about.”
I ended the call, my chest heaving. The voicemail was a small victory—a desperate attempt to draw a line between my father’s madness and my relationship with Santino. But as I stood there, phone clutched in my trembling hand, I knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop him.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, principessa.”
I spun around. Santino leaned against the doorway, smirking. The bandage peeking from his shirt reminded me of how close I’d come to losing him, but he acted like he hadn’t just taken a bullet two days ago.
“I never thought I’d see you get riled up on my behalf.”
“Really?” I snapped back, still fuming. “Because I can dial him up again if you want more of a show.”
He chuckled as he walked over to me. He looked different. My gaze flicked down to a pair of Converse shoes. His jeans were rolled up at the bottom, and he wore a white, tucked-in T-shirt. He’d even styled his hair into messy waves.
“What the heck are you wearing?” I asked.
Santino brushed his shirt. “Found some things in my bag that I thought might catch your eye.”
“How’d you do your hair?”
“Online tutorial.”
My heart stumbled. “You did that…for me?”
He nodded and shrugged.
I blinked. “Well, you look amazing.”
“Glad you approve.”
I more than approved. My heart swelled. Santino had gone through all this trouble just to make me smile. It was surreal, this blend of ruthless mafioso and a man who watched hairstyle tutorials to impress me. He didn’t have to do any of this, but he had. For me.
It was almost too much to process. As soon as he stood in front of me, I traced the muscles beneath his shirt.
His mouth hovered close as I curled my fingers into his shirt. His scent swirled in my nostrils as his lips fell on mine, hot and insistent. A tumultuous feeling threatened to upset my balance as I clung to him, tasting every stroke of his tongue. Heat pooled in my core as I kissed him back, surrendering to the craving that followed me every waking moment. My hand slipped under his shirt and teased the tanned skin.
Santino groaned, gently disengaging himself. “Not now, baby. I’m taking you out on a date.”
“Is that a good idea?”
“Yes. We’ve been cooped up in this damn villa for too long. It’s time we go out.”