Alessia Ferrari is the Don of the Italian Mafia. Whip-smart and dangerous, she is a woman in a man's world, surviving against all odds. Born and raised to become a lethal killer, even the ground she walks on bows at her feet. She has it all, until t...
TRIGGER WARNINGS: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE SWEARING VIOLENCE REFERENCES TO RAPE SMOKING/ALCOHOL/DRUGS BLOOD/DEATH/GORE
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Adrenaline still raced in my veins. Watching Alessia's father die was absolutely necessary and along with his death, my anger diminished. The man pissed me off, a fucking disgusting piece of shit. I shouldn't even waste another second thinking about him.
Now to deal with Alessia. I've no doubt that she has received the news and is on the way home. I ordered my men to clean themselves up and I went to do the same.
I stood under the shower and closed my eyes. The piranhas may not have been enough. Her father, fuck. He must have hurt her all her life. I couldn't even tell. She hid it so well. No wonder why she's so strong and cold. She was raised by that man.
I emerged from the bathroom with a towel in hand upon hearing the door open. The water from my wet hair dripped onto my white T-shirt. I stopped rubbing my hair with the towel when I saw Alessia. My heart quickened and a gulp threatened to run down my throat.
Her chest rose and fell deeply as she showed no emotion. Her face was bare but her eyes showed something. Maybe relief or anger I couldn't tell. I rubbed my forehead. "I-" I started but got cut off.
"Did you do it?" She questioned her eyes searching mine for an answer. I approached her taking slow steps, stopping just short. She didn't have any shoes on, the fuck. I looked down into her eyes. She was so fucking intimidating. She tilted her head clearly impatient with me. I sighed. "I did."
She furrowed her brows and parted those full lips of hers. "Why?" She breathed out. I looked at her in confusion. This was not the outcome I expected. "Because he was a fucking disgrace...I did it for you." I spoke slowly.
She gulped and her breaths became sharp and jagged. Fuck no. She reached out with a hand and gently caressed my cheek. Fuck, she could do that all day. I looked into her eyes which shone bright. "You fucking killed him." She whispered.
I gasped when I felt a stinging pain across my cheek. "Did you just slap me?" I couldn't help but smile. She began to pace the room without a care in the world. "You fucking killed him! il bastardo è morto. Fanculo (The bastard is dead. Fuck)" She spoke in Italian. I didn't know Italian, fuck. But I did knew some words. The fucking bastard was dead.
"I'm confused." I crossed my arms, tossing the towel onto the bed. Fucking hell she was a enigma alright. I would never tire of her. She stopped pacing and looked at me with a genuine smile. "I'm over the moon that you killed him. But you did it without me." She frowned. Oh fuck, maybe she was waiting for his death and I took that from her. I stole that from her.
I sighed and walked over to her. I lowered my head to her shoulder and inhaled her intoxicating scent. She never resisted. I wrapped my arms around her waist. "I am sorry." I whispered into her ear. I stilled when I felt her kiss my cheek. "Thank you...for doing what I couldn't." She breathed. I could feel her relief in those words.
