Page 28 of Hostile Bond
The intensity sparking between us tugs a dark thread at my core. My skin blazes. His fierce eyes trap me in place. “You're the Sapori leader now, Wifey. I’m basically a fucking groupie hanging around your imperial shadow.”
I swallow his admission with a flustered gulp. “You can’t deny it, Dré. This puts you on the map. Everything has worked out wonderfully for the Souza cartel. You and your brothers are more powerful than ever.”
His face tilts to mine, his liquored breath hot and sinful. “This putsyouon the map, Sin. And the thought of my wife ruling his empire makes my dick hard as fuck… but you seriously have no idea how I feel about you, do you?” His eyes darken like the starless depths of a watery grave where the obliterated yacht now resides. “You think I only did that for business?”
“Come on Dré. We both know Frankie’s death benefits your family.”
An unabated growl rumbles in the back of this throat, petrifying the hairs on my scalp. “Christ,” he mutters. “This is my own fault for forcing you to marry me. I thought you finally understood—that you knew how much I—” Creases dig into his forehead as he stops himself short. “Fuck this shit. I’ll always be that guy to you. Nothing I do or say will change it.”
I swallow his temper, noting an almost painful withdrawal—how his beautiful features harden, and his pupils dilate with a thick swirl of smoke. Despite the eagerness radiating from his skin to mine, his muscles freeze over, transforming his countenance to polar, so he’s solid as ice.
“I have a meeting with my brothers now.” He scrubs his face and takes a measured step away from me. Instantly the air turns frosty and uninviting without his body heat tempting me. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“Are you going after Acer?” I ask softly, unsure why the teak stained floorboards feel like quicksand.
“Of course I am,” he growls at me. It’s a deep, snarky rumble that reminds me of his ability to make me orgasm until I go temporarily blind.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to send a hitman, so you’re not involved?”
“The second he came for you and murdered Reno… it became personal. I have to do this. In my world, you’re either the hunted or the hunter. You should know that, Sin. I’m the motherfucking hunter.” A deranged laugh bubbles from deep in his chest.
“He’ll expect retaliation when he figures out you’re not dead. I don’t think you should take that risk.”
“It’s not up for debate. I’m going after him.”
“Fine. You don’t give a fuck about my opinion, anyway. You never have.” Internally, I wince at my statement when he inhales deeply and controls the exhale.
With a rapid change in his gaze, he seizes my waist, drags me into his chest, and kisses me in a hotheaded, fierce attack. Our tongues fight while our teeth clash and my lips blaze from his coarse hairs. He controls my head with his strong hands to deepen the pressure until I whimper.
My willpower capsizes, and I lose myself in his dominant control. The two of us are a complex pair. We had bonded under a lonely Hawthorn tree years ago and that fateful connection has never been forgotten. But it appears that his plans are so much bigger than the two of us. Common-sense clads my instincts with interwoven rings of iron. A shiny silver breastplate shields my heart from the possibility of his family’s masterful games.
Content he’s claimed my mouth, he peels his wet lips from mine. “Your opinion matters.” His nostrils flare, his hoarse tone cool, and his persona borderline wolfish. “Sapori is dead. Your mother is safe. The Sapori empire will fall, and a new family will step in.”
“You mean the Souzas?” My throat thickens at the thought of his answer.
Holding my stare, his expression hardens and the truth unfolds. “Precisely.”
André’s posture instantly straightens, his expression slipping to a scowl. His shoulders push back as a veil of darkness shrouds his eyes, blocking me out with one haunted blink. He turns on his heels and jogs back down the stairs.
11
ANDRÉ
“At least you waited until he left the island.” Tomás pours me whiskey when I join him at the lacquered driftwood table on the shaded patio. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect that reaction. Even when I told you we needed him alive…” He sighs and shakes his head. “He could have helped get us closer to Papá’s killer.”
I shrug and throw my leg over the bench seat. “Even if he did, he would have dragged it out as long as possible to maintain control.” My veins feel like they’re wound tight around my muscles, making me edgy and strung out. “That's the sort of fucked up cunt he was. I’m sorry, Tommy.” I offer a respectful apology when we all know I wouldn't change a thing. “Did we get all the crew off before the rockets hit?”
Across the table, Letterman nods. “They’re in the staff villa with a free bar and a mountain of cocaine.”
“Good…” My mind drifts off, looking past the centerpiece of freshly cut flowers. My focus is drawn to the sandy bay where half of the blazing sun peeks out from the blue horizon like it's scared of my impatience.
Karma has well and truly fucked me over. Sinéad’s reaction is penance for screwing around, partying hard, and ruling Miami like the ruthless gods Souzas are.
My wife will never understand the love I have for her, because she didn’t have the option of being my bride. Instead, I made her mine without earning her permission. Stole her right to decide if she truly wanted me, and in return she bewitched my stupid heart.
“Sinéad knew I was planning to kill Sapori eventually, but now she’s got it in her head that it was a tactical move, rather than my inability to tolerate the fucker. She thinks I only did it to gain control over Sicily.” I lock eyes with each of my siblings in turn, and swallow thickly. “Truth is, I wanted her to have everything he never gave her growing up. She deserved more than an arrogant fucker like him for a father… but… she doesn’t want anything to do with his legacy or his businesses… never did.”
“Then we have to move quickly,” Tomás says, his kingly stature reminiscent of our father in so many ways. “Once Acer is out of the picture, you’ll have to fly to Sicily. It has to be this way.”
