Page 100 of Seeking Vengeance

“Better?” He raises a taunting brow. “Is that what you call threatening to kill Lorenzo’s guards if they don’t listen to you over him? If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were gearing up to take the helm.”

“Fuck you.” My words thrash against clenched teeth.

“Touchy subject? Have you been thinking about it, BB?”

I see red, the hint to a forbidden nickname acting like a fire poker to my rage. “Do you want to die today?”

He grins. “There he is. The villain I know and love.”

“Walk away,” I warn.

“I’d fucking love to. Unfortunately, your dumb ass refuses to carry a gun. So I’m stuck protecting you. Protectingher.” He steps forward, getting in my face. “You need to tell her the truth. Tell her what she’s getting herself into. Tell her all the things you’ve hidden just so you can keep her like a fucking pet.”

I’d been trying to. I’d had the confession on the tip of my tongue. I never envisaged misleading her this long. I just didn’t plan on wanting her this much when I exposed the truth.

The tiniest squeak of a door filters down the hall. I turn to see Layla inching out of our suite, her wary eyes finding mine.

I step back from Bishop and cringe at my instinct to shield things from her. She deserves transparency—honesty—even though she hasn’t offered it in return.

“Go back inside.” I leash the aggression in my tone. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

The wariness grows in her stare as she glances from me to Bishop then back again.

“It’s okay,amore mio. I won’t be long.”

Her chest rises with a deep breath beneath the tempting red sundress before she silently slips back inside, the door closing with a barely heard click.

“She may have a pretty face, but don’t forget she’s as fucked up as you are,” Bishop mutters. “We don’t need that shit in our lives.”

A storm rages inside me. The energy batters my veins. Sneering. Demanding.

I close my eyes, reining it in, mastering the aggression.

He chuckles, the briefest breath of sound. “Look at you, trying to battle the inevitable. This is a waste—”

I lunge, grabbing his shirt in my fist. “Shut your fucking mouth.” I struggle not to lose myself to the insanity. Fight not to shove my knuckles into my best friend’s throat.

He doesn’t retaliate. He’s the only one armed, and all he does is raise his chin as if reiterating his point.

Fuck.

I retreat, releasing his shirt. “I’ll fucking tell her.” I turn my back on him before I do something I’ll regret, and start for the suite. “Check on Lorenzo. I don’t want to see your face again until he’s been looked over by his doctor.”

I reach the door and grab the key card from my jacket to swipe over the lock. I stalk into the shadowed room flickering in candlelight, the fury following me.

“What’s going on, Matthew?”

Layla’s voice increases my struggle, her trepidation creating guilt that whirlpools with my anger.

She stands in front of the sofa, her cell in her hand, the screen lighting up her face in the darkness. “What’s Lorenzo’s surname?”

Shit. She’s searching for him online?

I stalk to her, stepping around the coffee table, making her stiffen as I get within reach.

Jesus fucking Christ.

She’s questioning me again. Judging. Fearing.

---