Page 37 of Havoc

I had an apartment building I dedicated to my men. They were welcome to live wherever they chose after a year of service. During that year my Capos kept a close eye on them until they proved they were trustworthy. Time would tell how loyal Paolo really was, but my gut told me I had nothing to worry about. My instincts never led me astray.

“Did Pietro get my room cleaned up?”

“Yeah, he had one of the housekeepers take care of it,” Luca replied. At my glance he continued, “She didn’t try to hurt them or escape.”

“Good, have Pietro bring a suit down for me for dinner. He can hang it in one of the spare rooms.”

Luca left and I stood silently, considering the woman upstairs in my bedroom. I knew she wouldn’t hurt any of my staff. Havoc wouldn’t show any mercy to someone who wronged her, but she wasn’t the kind of person to do damage to an innocent. I doubted she would even injure one of my men intentionally, despite them being far from innocent. I couldn’t say the same for myself. I had no doubt she’d do whatever she needed to in order to escape me, since I was the one standing in the way of the one thing she wanted most—vengeance.

Just the thought of what she might do in order to get her way had me throbbing. The thought of her struggles, her fury, even the damage she might do so that she would be free to kill, had me reaching down and stroking my cock through my pants. I snarled when my phone buzzed insistently. Sighing, I answered it.

Chapter 23

Havoc

Istepped into the hot spray of the dual head shower and groaned with pleasure. The water beat down on me and eased some of the tension in my shoulders. It’d been a hell of a day yesterday. I’d come back to my apartment last night riding the high after crossing another name off my list. That hadn’t lasted long once Nico got his hands on me.

The man was a riddle I couldn’t solve. He was sexy as sin, could literally do anything he wanted in this city, was rich, and for some reason he wanted me. There wasn’t anything special about me. I was a cop turned farmer turned criminal who was a broken woman.Maybe he was a fixer, I mused. There were a lot of people who had to take on a partner they could fix.

I wasn’t sure, but ultimately it didn’t matter. I’d been serious when I told him I wasn’t staying here with him. The only thing I was living for right now was my revenge. The way Nico made me feel was going to have to go on the back burner to be examined later—if ever.

I had so many unexpected emotions connected to the man I wasn’t sure what to do with them. It seemed disrespectful and more than a little painful that I felt anything toward him. Tony had been the love of my life and a good man. I didn’t know how to let go of him or the way we’d loved each other in order to move on with someone else. I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to.

We’d discussed it once before, what we wanted the other to do if anything ever happened to one of us. We’d agreed that if one of us died young we would want the other to find love again. Saying it at the time and doing it now were two completely different things, though.

Not to mention, Nico was as opposite of Tony as he could be. I shook my head and realized silent tears were streaming down my cheeks. I dunked my head under the spray and let it wash them away.

I’d just wrapped a huge navy towel around me when a knock came at the door. I peeked my head out of the bathroom as the man who’d come in with the maids earlier walked in the door.

“Ah, sorry,” he said, averting his eyes since I was standing there in nothing but a towel. “Boss wants you downstairs for dinner in an hour.” He laid the garment bag he was carrying on the bed and set a shoe box at the foot of it. He rummaged around in Nico’s closet then left the room without another word.

I went over and opened the bag. Inside was a gorgeous, royal blue dress. The fabric shimmered as I trailed a finger over it. I zipped the bag back up and looked at the note taped to the hanger.

It reminded me of your eyes -Nico.

Jesus. What the hell was I supposed to do with that?I could deal with the controlling asshole who was holding me captive. I didn’t want to find out how I’d react when he started showering me with gifts and compliments. Not that I was a materialistic woman. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn a dress.

Your wedding,my inner voice supplied unhelpfully.

Nope, you were wearing a dress the night you killed Pérez, a second voice purred.

I hoped like hell I wasn’t going insane. How many inner voices could one have before you were deemed certifiably nuts? It felt like I had split personalities at this point. One was the little angel sitting on my shoulder and represented my old life and who I used to be. The other was the devil and represented the new me.

I grabbed the bag that contained my clothes and went back into the bathroom.

* * *

One hour later,Pietro—he finally told me his name—came to collect me for dinner. He frowned at the jeans and the baby doll t-shirt I was wearing. “I think you were supposed-”

“Do you want me to go to dinner or not?” I knew he didn’t really care, but his boss would.

He nodded and led the way, not mentioning my attire again.

I should probably refuse to go down, but one thing about being a captive—it wassoboring. Don’t get me wrong, I was thankful it wasn’t lively with torture or my death. I wasn’t used to such long amounts of inactivity, though, and I’d nearly gone insane sitting in that room all day with nothing to do. There was no TV, I didn’t have my phone, or a computer, and I hadn’t been allowed to leave. The only distraction I had was when Nico visited me and I’d rather keep that to a minimum.

My stomach had also made itself intimately acquainted with my spine. It let out an unhappy rumble to remind me that I’d made it go without. I refused breakfast and lunch and that was about all I could take on the ‘I’ll starve myself until you release me’ front.

Besides, accepting his dinner invite, but refusing his gift was bound to piss him off and I was just petty enough to take pleasure in that.