Page 27 of Deadly Wrath

Alessio walks us to the back of the plane, toward a closed door, and my heart drops. Oh, hell no. “Where the hell are you taking me?” I snap, trying to wriggle free.

Alessio doesn’t answer. Just keeps walking like I’m his damn property.

Great. What fresh hell is this?

12

Alessio

I have zero tolerance for petty bullshit. Nicole means nothing to me. She’s just a flight attendant who’s been useful on a few occasions, but that’s it. She had no right to disrespect Olivia, even if I’m not defendingLa Sirenafor her sake. Nicole doesn’t know who she could’ve been messing with, and I won’t allow it.

Then I realize Olivia doesn’t even have clothes. I dragged her out of her apartment wrapped in a damn bedsheet. Christ. I scrub a hand down my face. There might be something in the back room of the plane, maybe a shirt or something she can wear. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with her. But I need to figure it out fast.

Antonio’s already pissed about Cindy, and he made it clear—Olivia is my problem now. If I leave her in Chicago, his men will handle her. And they won’t give a shit that it breaks Commission rules. Antonio has a code,but his men don’t. Death would seem like a mercy with what they’d put her through.

And I don’t want anyone fucking touching her. Olivia is a royal pain in my ass, but she’s not like other women, not like Nicole, who can’t throw herself at me fast enough.

It wasn’t the way she damn near unraveled right in front of me back at her apartment. No fake, over-the-top moans, no crocodile tears, the kind women think men are stupid enough to fall for, when they’re caught red-handed.

It’s definitely not the way that tight little pencil skirt hugged every sinful curve as she ran, her ass bouncing just enough to make me want to chase her faster.

And those green fucking eyes that hold mine like she’s daring me to blink first. Most people can’t look at me for five seconds without flinching. She looks at me like she’s planning my goddamn downfall.

Then there are her lips, soft and full and always mouthing off. They make me wonder how they’d feel wrapped around my cock. How good it’d feel to choke the sass right out of her smart mouth.

She knows who I am, that much is clear. But instead of dropping to her knees like every other woman, she’d probably kick me in the balls again just to prove a point.

And that’s where she’s got me. She piqued my interest, maybe a little too much.

So, I’m taking her back to Philly. Once I’m home, I’ll get my answers. And depending on what she has to say, I’ll decide if I let her go… or if she belongs to me for good.

I kick the door shut behind us with enough force to make the whole frame shudder. I toss Olivia on the bed, and she lands with a soft thud, rolling off immediately, and clutching the sheet like it’s some kind of armor. I lean against the door, arms crossed, watching her scramble to get her footing.

Her hair’s a mess, her cheeks flushed, and she’s still trying to act like she’s got the upper hand. “What’s this?” she snaps, her green eyes lock onto mine like I’m the one in trouble. “Do I get to upgrade to a duvet now? Or is this just part of your five-star hospitality?”

There’s her mouth. I was waiting for it. But I see through it. She’s scared. I arch a brow, taking a slow step toward her. “I could let you sit in that filth,Sirena. Or you take what I give you.”

She takes a step back, the sheet slipping slightly before yanking it back up, which only annoys me more. The room is small as fuck, it’s not like she can get away from me. I wrap my hand around a loose end and rip the damn cover off her.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snaps, trying to cover her tits like I haven’t already seen them.

I turn away from her and pull open the closet with more force than necessary. I need to get my shit together. Inside, there’s a navy cardigan hanging up and a small carry-on bag sitting on the ground. It’s probably Nicole’s, I didn’t give her a chance to grab her shit before I tossed her off the plane.

“Finding you something to wear.” I drop the bag onto the bed. Olivia hesitates, then unzips it, rifling through the ridiculous lingerie. Nothing but lacy scraps that wouldn’t cover a damn thing. Not that I’d mind seeing her in something like that.

Of course, that’s what Nicole packed.

“Were you planning a fuck-fest? Jeez! I’m not wearing this,” Olivia snaps again. “I’d rather stay in the wet sheet.”

I smirk, tossing the lingerie back in the bag and slamming it shut. “Fine,” I snap back. “Pick something or stay fucking naked. Your call.”

I step back, my eyes never leave her. She hesitates for a second, her emeralds going from me to the carry-on, before she finally reaches in the bag. That sass needs to be spanked out of her.

Olivia snorts, shaking her head, then pulls out a ridiculous lace number. She holds it up, spinning it around like she’s trying to figure out which side’s even the front. “What, is this supposed to double as a headband?” she mocks, flicking it across the room like a rubber band.

I can’t help but notice how her tits jiggle when she lifts her hands, and yeah, I don’t even try to look away. She’s too busy digging in the bag to notice, pulling out a cardigan and some yoga pants buried under all that damn lace.

“Privacy?” She mutters, clutching the clothes like they will protect her.

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