Page 23 of Brutal Vows

My balls ache and my cock stiffens as I imagine taming my fierce littlegattina. I can’t wait to have her purring under my hands.

I curse as I realize my instincts have already accepted her as mine. No hardened killer would ignore the instincts he honed through decades of sharpening, nor would he push aside the hard-won calculations learned through a lifetime of avoiding knives in his back. But I still have so many unanswered questions.

I fill my lungs until my ribs ache and turn off her phone screen.

When she meets my stare head on, I’m a goner.

There’s no escape for her now. If she’s a threat to the Russo family, I’ll fix the issue along the way.

Loretta Giordano is mine.

Chapter 7

Loretta Giordano

His slate-grey eyes gleamwith menace as he stands to his full height and stalks around the foot of the bed to invade my space. With his joggers slung low on his hips and his shirt tight around his muscular chest, I struggle to keep my eyes trained on his face. He’s dark, toe-curling eye candy in male form. A danger to all women. The kind of man you only find in your dreams when you wake flushed and wet and reaching for the toys hidden in your bedside table.

Even the hostility in his bottomless grey eyes adds a sensual edge to my thoughts.

He leans down and holds my cell in front of my face as though it insulted him.

“Is this a burner phone?” he snarls.

“No,” I respond.

“I don’t believe you. Why didn’t your sister ask why you weren’t at home?” he asks.

Pain slashes my heart into tiny, jagged pieces, but I swallow the lump in my throat and shrug.

“We don’t live together,” I say.

Part of me hoped she’d forgive me for pushing her to transfer to another clinic if she heard of the ordeal I survived today, but deep in my heart, I knew she wouldn’t. Moving clinics isonly the tip of the iceberg separating us. I’ve hurt her too much throughout our lives.

Ermanno clicks the power button on my phone, illuminating the screen, and holds up my sister’s message for me to read. Ice curls around my internal organs and tears scratch at the back of my eyelids, but I blink and dig my nails into my palms until the urge to cry fades. I long to run and hide, but the cuffs on my wrists and ankles keep me firmly in the chair. My shoulders, butt, and thighs ache from the awkward position.

My captor’s piercing grey orbs study me like a bug under a microscope.

“She doesn’t seem very concerned about you,gattina.”

His remark arrows straight to my heart, but I scowl and quirk a brow.

“Why would she be? I can take care of myself,” I hiss.

He tosses my phone onto the side table and drops into a squat in front of me. With his eyes almost level with mine, he cups his massive hands around my thighs and dons an uncharacteristically gentle expression.

“Loretta, your coworker obviously told her about the shootout, but she didn’t even ask if you were okay.”

Insulted at his faux concern, I scoff and imagine kneeing him in his perfect face.

“I’m her older sister. I take care of her, not the other way around,” I sneer.

Surprise widens his eyes, and for a moment, his concern seems honest, but then he skims his hands higher on my thighs and leans closer.

“That’s not how a family works,” he insists.

My heart yearns for what he suggests, but fate deemed I would never have healthy family dynamics. The loneliness in my soul rankles and the black hole behind my sternum grows. Hisverbal jab, no matter his intent behind it, hurts too much for me to accept, so I panic and stoop to desperate measures.

“Well, it’s how my family works, and if all you’re going to do is criticize me and badmouth my sister, then I’m done answering your questions.”

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