Page 70 of Caruso
There always was.
She helps herself to coffee and a croissant, and I snap, “You will eat a good breakfast. I have ordered poached eggs, smoked salmon on rye and granola.”
“For me?” Her huge eyes widen even further, and I nod, pushing a glass of orange juice her way.
“Drink that.”
“I prefer water.”
“It wasn’t a choice.”
Her mouth drops open, and I snap, “You require vitamins that you won’t get in water. A balanced diet is necessary for your health.”
She says nothing and merely lifts the glass, sipping the juice on command, which, as it happens, is a direct line to my cock.
I get off on control, dominance and commands. It’s my way or no way, and I will not be challenged.
I don’t say much, but when I do, I expect to be heard. There is weight in my words, and I will not make an exception for her.
We eat in silence. Our food is delivered as expected, and soon we are ready to go.
“We leave in ten minutes. Go and clean your teeth and brush your hair. A light jacket will be enough; you will not be requiring your purse.”
She says nothing, but the fury shining in her eyes amuses me. She hates this, which will make my mission more successful.
As I head to my room I do the same as I instructed her and glance at my reflectionand smirk.
I wonder what the day will bring? It will be an interesting one for sure.
Ten minutes to the second, I head back to the living room to find her waiting, wearing a light jacket, her hair tied behind in a ponytail, her hands in her pockets. She resembles a scowling teenager, which reminds me how unsuitable she is for us, and yet the gleam in her eye, accompanied by the challenge in them, causes my heart to race just a little faster.
I have long imagined her naked. That powerful body destroying me in seconds. She may be small, vulnerable even, but she has an inner strength I try not to admire. There is something about Taylor; I’ll give her that, and when I see my brothers with their hands on her, jealously sparks against my will. She is a silent force in the room, the planet we all orbit, and I hate how weak that makes me, foolish even.
“Come, the car is waiting.”
I stride from the room expecting her to keep up, and as she scurries behind me, my mind switches to the job at hand.
Jason Evans is a surprising one. From what Taylor has said about him, I expected something else entirely.
I wonder if it’s the man she sees through her rose-colored spectacles. If it’s the right man at all.
We ride the elevator in silence. She leans against the side of it, her hard stare unnerving. I don’t react. Sheshouldn’t be here anyway, but being so close in such a confined space is messing with my mind.
I could take her. They all expect me to. She does too, but then I would reveal my weakness. I would fail—in my mind, anyway.
Taylor willnotbe the ruin of me. I won’t allow it, and as the elevator opens into the lobby, I exit without a glance in her direction.
We move through the packed lobby where guests mingle with our staff, apparently fascinated by the show. As we left the elevator, my guards settled in around us, so we move as a pack.
Always a pack.
I like to make statements. Giorgio prefers to walk alone, prowling among the people as one of them. Taking great delight in any challenge, clearing his own path with his fists rather than hired muscle. Matteo sits between us, preferring his privacy with a few discreet guards set back, not crowding his space. I like to make huge statements wherever I go. Don’t mess with me or you’ll regret it—big time.
We sweep out of The Artemis into the waiting car, entirely black with blacked-out windows. There are three cars: one in the front, one in the middle and one bringing up the rear. As I said, I like to make a statement.
Despite what we tried to distance ourselves from, we are still mafia. Vegas mafia and my brothers may choose to dull that sparkle, but I polish it with relish.
Taylor sits beside me, and as soon as the car moves off, she says tentatively, “Whereare we going?”
