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“Fuck!” I let out a groan that reverberates through the space. “You’re perfect. My perfect little vixen.”

Penelope rides me hard and fast like both our lives depend on it and maybe they do. Maybe this is what we’ve both been hoping for all our lives.

I grab a hold of her waist, pull her down with each thrust until she’s crying out from the sheer pleasure of the moment. And that’s when I burst open too, spilling completely into her.

I like her.

Fuck, I love her.

There’s no going back anymore for me. I see it now.

We’re a mess, panting, stuck together. I lift her chin, smiling wryly. “Still pissed?”

“Always,” she mutters, but her arms wrap around my neck, holding tight.

“Good.” I kiss her slowly, tasting the fight still simmering there. She’s mine, and I’m hers, and that’s the truth that’ll bury us both. I don’t care anymore. She’s worth every damn second of the fall.

Chapter 12

Penelope

I hang up the phone with Gianna and Gerald, my ears still ringing from their goofy banter about baby names. “If it’s a boy, I’m pushing for Gerald Junior,” Gerald said, his voice crackling through the speaker. “Gives me legacy vibes.”

Gianna snorted loud enough to make me wince. “Over my dead body. I’m not cursing my kid with ‘Junior’ baggage. How about something cool, like Blaze?”

“Blaze?” Gerald laughed. “What’s he gonna be, a wrestler? I’d rather name him after my grandpa—solid, dependable Frank.”

“Frank?” Gianna fired back. “Sounds like a guy who owns a deli and yells at kids for stealing gum. No way.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that played on my lips as I shoved my phone into my pocket and stepped onto the street outside Caruso’s. Their bickering is the kind of normal I crave, a lifeline to a world where babies and delis matter more than blood and bullets. My sneakers scuff the pavement, the atmosphere thick with exhaust and late-night chill. I tug my jacket tighter and feel the weight of Adriano’s world pressing heavier on me, like it does every damn day.

That is when they hit me.

Three guys melt out of the shadows, moving fast. Before I can scream, a hand clamps over my mouth, pulling me into an alley. My heart slumps against my ribs. I thrash and kick at shins, trying to remove the arm pinning me, but they are too strong. One shoves me against the brick wall, the jagged edges biting into my back. My breath hitches, and my eyes dart between them. I take in their greasy hair, scarred knuckles, andcold stares. And for some inexplicable reason, I just know they’re Ricci’s men. I know it without them saying a word.

“You fucked up, girl,” the tallest one growls. He towers over me, his leather jacket creaking as he leans in. “So you killed Theo, huh? Boss says you do not get to breathe easy after that.”

My stomach drops. They think I killed Theo. Not Adriano. Me. I freeze, processing their words, my mind racing back to that night—Adriano swinging that bat, Theo’s skull cracking, sticky blood pooling everywhere. I was scared shitless then, watching him turn a man into pulp. Now? Now I know that psychotic edge is his and his alone. These idiots have no clue who they are really dealing with.

“I did not kill him,” I spit, shoving against the guy holding me. My voice shakes, but I keep my chin up. “You have the wrong person.”

“Bullshit,” the second one snaps, stepping closer. He’s shorter, wiry, with a twitchy eye that makes him look unhinged. “Theo’s face was smashed to hell. No way a little thing like you did that solo. Tell us how you pulled it off and made it look like some freak accident.”

The tall one nods, cracking his knuckles. “Ricci wants the truth. You had help, right? Some bastard backing you up. Spill it, or we start breaking shit that a hospital can’t fix.”

I swallow hard, my pulse hammering in my throat. They do not know about Adriano. Not really. They think I’m the mastermind, that I staged it. If they knew he was the one who turned Theo into a mangled mess, they would have a target and a reason to hunt him down. Proof to take to Ricci. I realize that I want to protect him. Even after the cameras, the lies, Charlotte’s smug bitch face, the stupid and unreasonable part of me still wants to shield him. He’s shown me his dark side, the part that rips people apart, and I’m the only one who’s seen it raw. That makes it mine to guard.

“I did it alone,” I lie, staring them down. “No help. Just me.”

The wiry one laughs, sharp and mean. “You expect us to buy that? Look at you, you’re barely big enough to swing a bat. Theo was a tank. No human could do that without backup.”

“Maybe I’m stronger than I look,” I shoot back, my voice steadying. “Ever think of that?”

The tall one squints, studying me like I’m a puzzle he cannot crack. “Nah. You are hiding something. Ricci says you do not get peace till we know. So talk, or we make you.”

I clamp my mouth shut, glaring. They want Adriano’s name, his shadow to chase. I will not give it. Not because he deserves it, but because letting them have him feels like handing over a piece of myself. And I’m too fucked up to let that go.

“Last chance,” the wiry one says, pulling a gun from his waistband. My breath catches, but he does not aim it. Instead, he flips it in his hand, holding the barrel like a club. “Tell us who helped you fuck Theo up.”

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