Page 42 of Salvatore

I poise the pizza before her again. “That may be true, but I’ve watched her navigate some pretty tricky situations. She can hold her own.”

She chokes on another mouthful. “What type of situations? You said you’ve barely spoken to her.”

God, she’s beautiful when unsettled, her eye movements sharp, her emotions painted across her features in stark clarity instead of heavily influenced sarcasm.

I raise the pizza to her lips for a fourth time, hoping to distract her, only to have her grab my wrist and halt the progression. “What type of situations, Salvatore?”

My brain can’t focus on her question. I’m too caught up staring at her mouth. Her throat. Her chest. “That’s not your concern.”

“Fine.” She drags out the cell nestled beneath her bra strap. “I’ll ask her myself.”

I slam a palm against her phone, slapping it down to the counter. She stares at me as I stare in return, the two of us caught in a visual standoff, her nails claiming my wrist, our hands both remaining on her cell.

“Fine.” I get in her face. “Ask her. Ruin her life. Get her killed. Do you think I give a shit?”

She smiles, and my dick takes notice. “Are you threatened by me,niñito?”

I hadn’t understood the Spanish taunt last night, but I took the time to enlighten myself while sitting in the club.

Niñito,aka little boy.

She’s itching to be messed with.

“You exude such infallible confidence,” she continues, “but on the inside you must quaver in your Gucci loafers at the mere sight of me if you’re scared of one measly phone call.”

Something is definitely quavering, but it isn’t my insides. If she’d like to direct her shin a little to the left she’d feel exactly what she has an effect on.

“You’ve got me pegged,bella.”

“Well let me assure you—” She retracts her claws, loosening her hold on my wrist. “—I don’t want any criminal complications in my life. I only want to guarantee Liv’s safety.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you went to the cops.”

“You didn’t give me a choice. And it’s not like it was a move I made lightly. I risked my life by walking into that police station. If word gets back to Gabriel you won’t have to worry about killing me because he’ll do it himself.”

That pathetic possessiveness tightens into a thorny ball inside my chest.

“Why?” It’s the only word I can muster.

“Because I’m the one that got away. I’m the only female he couldn’t make cower to his will. It doesn’t take a psychologydegree to predict a daughter’s emancipation won’t sit well with a powerful, heartless misogynist.”

“Then why let you go at all?”

Her smile is sad and slow to form. “Because I witnessed something I shouldn’t—a lot of somethings, actually—and I threatened to put him behind bars. The only thing that saved me from my ignorant adolescent fearlessness was my mother, who begged him to spare my life and grant me the emancipation so they could be done with me.”

I don’t want to feel kinship with her. To commiserate about what it’s like to be betrayed by those who gave you life. But that fucking emotion is there, building and consuming. “Then why stay in Baltimore?”

She slides her hand from my wrist and the other away from her phone, leaving me bereft of that sinful fucking contact. “With your extensive glimpse into my life I’m sure you’ve seen my bank balance… or lack thereof. Which made fleeing a non-starter. So instead I lie low. I keep my nose clean. At least I did, until this.” She waves a lazy hand between us. “Things might be a little different after Gabriel finds out I’ve caused waves.”

He won’t find out.

I inch back, thrown off-guard by the mental vow.

I need to quit drinking. To get some fucking sleep.

“Tell me about these situations with Liv.” Her voice is low. Uncharacteristically pleading. “Please.”

“Knowledge isn’t power in this case.” I raise the pizza back to her mouth, my vision laser focused on the food andnother tempting lips. “Insight will only get you killed.”

---