Page 68 of Impenitent Claim

That explained the barely noticeable pricks when I drove deep.

Her voice turned breathless. “And I’m clean, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

The situation unfolded rapidly from her point of view. The fierce mafia princess might exist in this terrible world, fighting every day for survival, but in this matter, she was innocent.

“I’m good too, rusalka. Don’t add that worry to your plate.” I reached to caress her cheek, and Isabella visibly relaxed, even folding into the touch. “I have to go now. Be a good girl and sleep for me. You won’t be doing much of that in the upcoming nights.”

Isabella pushed to her elbows, brow scrunched in confusion. “You’re taking a big risk coming here.”

Soon it wouldn’t be a risk. The men who’d dared to make her a prisoner would die, and their followers would scatter. I already destroyed her wedding out of spite, it wouldn’t take long to destroy her prison knowing what waited for me when I rescued her. Plus, there was a street war between the mafia families over bad contracts. The distraction would make my own destruction much easier.

What started as a kidnapping now morphed into complete and utter annihilation. Isabella would walk over the ashes, kicking the dust from her boots as we left town together.

I kept that all to myself. Partly, I didn’t want her to do something rash and put herself in unnecessary danger. But also…I didn’t want to hear that she would rather stay in prison than come with a monster like me. Freeing her would be easy compared to convincing her that we belonged with one another. That consideration would be something I had to earn.

And dammit, I would.

As I passed the reading nook, I pointed at the side table next to her armchair. “There’s a sub here. Extra meat for protein. I want you to eat the whole thing before morning.”

The soft gasp made me smile. I smirked into the dark. Her surprise was adorably sweet.

“Elij—I mean, Ilya,” she breathed as I opened the window.

I looked over my shoulder, expecting her to say something about the food. I braced myself for the argument to convince her to eat. I anticipated it being a touchy subject, but I needed her to know how beautiful she was and suck the venom the bitch inflicted on her about her body image from her mind.

Again, my sweet siren surprised me by saying the opposite of what I expected. “Be safe tonight.”

Those words gave me more hope than I deserved. “Always.”

Chapter 28 – Ilya

Blood dripped from my taped knuckles, creating an intricate pattern on the mat. Adrenaline made my muscles shake. The roar of the crowd increased as I strode to the makeshift locker room. With a whoop of delight, the underboss followed me through the swinging door.

Other fighters shot glances in my direction that ranged from curious to outright malicious. It was second nature to pretend to ignore them while tuning my awareness to their every move.

As I began to unwrap the tape, Tullio barged into the space. He spotted me and began to sing my praises. The son sauntered behind his yammering father, looking over the space with a sneer twisting his lips. Cosimo was young, just over twenty, but there was a glint in his eye that put me on edge. The rumors surrounding him weren’t good.

“Fifty grand!” Tullio clapped his hands together. “You’re a thoroughbred, bear.”

Cosimo snorted.

I shot the kid a look but addressed my statement to his father. “I want in.”

Tullio’s ecstatic ramblings didn’t waver. He talked and talked, giving me the runaround version of a nonanswer. “And as my bodyguard, I don’t see a problem in your participation—”

Cosimo cut his father off. “The capos won’t accept him.”

I forced my jaw to unclench, my muscles to droop.

“They’re royally pissed that you have an unvetted…oaf as your personal lackey. He shouldn’t have access to our business.” Cosimo crossed his arms, daring me to justify my presence.

“What I do with my own guards is none of their concern,” Tullio responded hotly.

Cosimo blatantly ignored his father. “Why do you want in, bear?”

“Money,” I said quickly. “I want real money so I can bet on myself in the ring.”

If the youth bought my hurried reply, it was hard to say. The senior did.

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