Page 50 of Angelo's Vengeance

But I wasn’t just tired.

I was fucking terrified.

Because Theo wasn’t like any otherwoman I’d known. She wasn’t a liability. She was fire and silk and grief and defiance, all wrapped in her wild, impulsive mind that could turn my world upside down with a look.

And for the first time, I didn’t want to win by crushing the opposition. I wanted her to come to me because shechoseme.

Because even though we’d shared a bed now, even though her body still haunted my sheets… I didn’t have her heart.

Not yet.

"You sure this is the right play?" Ilias asked, drawing me back.

"It’s the only one," I said. "We find the bitch. We end this."

Maxim gave a sharp nod. "Then let’s get to work. We’ll get ourselves together and get it done.”

Hours later, I pulled into the driveway of the brownstone. The windows glowed warmly behind the wrought-iron fencing, and the porch light was still on. Norris kept the place humming like clockwork—meals prepped,sheets changed, security tight. But it wasn’t the house I was thinking about. It was her.

I stepped inside, loosening my collar. The scent of roasted vegetables and honeyed tea lingered in the air.

Norris met me in the hallway with a knowing look. "Miss Theo’s in her studio. She fell asleep there again." He hesitated, then added, "She looked tired. Quiet today, but she’s back at work. Started sketching this afternoon. That’s a good sign. She seemed happier. Miss Frankie came over.”

That made me feel a little better. I knew that I was happier. Things seemed to be slowly moving towards a resolution. We had a plan in place. Conall’s man, Gallagher, was collecting intel on some locations, while we had Kostas and Veronica covering the others. By morning, we should have a few spots to target with multiple teams. They were fishing expeditions at best, but hopefully, we’d catch something in the nets we were casting.

Maxim’s contacts with the cartels in Belize and Honduras had yielded nothing. Renzetti wasn’t there. He had managed to evade the massive operation we set up to find him. My hunch still suggested he was holedup somewhere with Carlotta. I was banking on it.

My chest tightened. I nodded and made my way toward the studio until I found her collapsed on the chaise with her sketchbook limp in her hand. Gathering her in my arms, I carried her upstairs, tucking her between the covers. Stripping off my jacket, I joined her, savoring the feel of her body next to mine, but I stared at the ceiling as I ran through what was ahead.

Carlotta. Renzetti. War on the horizon. I didn’t know if I could protect Theo from the crossfire.

But God help me, I was going to try.

CHAPTER 30

THEODOSIA

The dream was hazy,like floating as you struggled to consciousness, pulling yourself forward to a reality you weren’t sure you wanted when the fantasy was so delicious. That’s what this must have been—a fantasy. I spread my legs farther, the ache building to a crescendo as I opened my eyes.

Angelo watched me as he slid his fingers into me. “What were you dreaming about, hmm? You were squirming in your sleep just begging for my cock.”

The words sent a shiver of delight through me. “I’m guessing you started already.” I looked pointedly at his hand that moved lazily over his engorged shaft that already leakedwith evidence of how aroused he was. “Maybe I was dreaming of you.”

“I like that, and yes. I started already. I wanted you all day.” I squirmed on his fingers.

I liked that, too. The fact that he wanted me, and the fact that the evidence of it was right there. The validation that he found me sexy. I wanted this to be combustible for both of us. The thought of him between my thighs while I slept was somehow taboo, and at the same time a total turn-on.

“Good. Too bad I woke up. Maybe I’ll pretend to keep sleeping next time, and you can keep going with your fantasy. Stuff me full.” I watched him carefully as his eyes dilated and his lips parted, his breath coming in short pants.Oh, he liked that idea. “You could slide your cock inside me and come and I’d never even wake up. You want me to have your baby, don’t you? You’ll need to try extra hard even if you come home late.” He pumped his shaft, squeezing it so hard that pre-cum spilled over the edge. My pussy clenched as I watched him.

“Those are dangerous words,piccola.”

“I mean them.” I had felt better today, stronger. My shoulder felt better, and I hadhardly touched him at all. That wasn’t fair. Moving to straddle him, I knocked his hands away. “Let me.” Bending to kiss him, I inhaled his scent, that familiar combination of his that felt like home to me, even with the smoke and gun oil that constantly swirled around him. Tracing my lips over his earlobes I followed the path of his neck, like he had done to me, learning each spot, taking my time even as my pussy ached.

“Baby,” he groaned as I teased his nipples with my tongue. “I need you.”

His cock slid between my folds, and I rocked against it as I explored the feeling of his shaft sliding against the sensative skin there. It felt exquisite against my clit. His eyes had fluttered shut, and I ran a hand to the juncture of our thighs where his cock was trapped flat to his belly. He wasn’t the only needy one, but I was willing to draw it out a little. The man was beautiful in that dangerous, carved-from-stone, sinner-in-a-suit sort of way. His lashes were absurdly long for someone so capable of murder. He had only one tattoo, right up against his rib cage. Right now, he was vulnerable and all mine.

Not the fancy kind. Not like the dramaticsprawling pieces I always imagined mafia dons got in their twenties after too much tequila and a hit gone wrong. This was clean. Intentional. Fine-lined. Small, near the curve of his heart, just over his ribcage.

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