Page 61 of Hostile Love
Nada. Zilch.
“Look, I owe Blanco. He paid for my mother’s funeral and bought her a coffin fit for a queen without asking for a penny in return. I didn't grow up with a father and he didn't know I existed. But these days, Blanco and I have an understanding. I respect him as a boss, and I can honestly tell you––hand on heart––he hadnothingto do with it––or the bomb that killed your Uncle Angelo.”
Tomás stiffens for a second, then fixes his diamond cufflinks in turn.
I wipe all traces of tears from my cheeks, rake a shaky hand through my hair, and roll back my shoulders. Feeling confident, I hold out my hand in the space between us.
“If we’re done here, and this circus production is over, then please excuse me.”
My eyes drill into those unreadable black pools of his.
“I’d like to say spending time with you was fun, but I’m not a liar. Rather than drag this bullshit out any longer, I should go for a run and burn off my anger instead of stabbing you in the fucking heart for what you just put me through.”
Tomás drops his gaze to my waiting palm, and after a beat he reaches out and shakes it.
“If anything happens to him, I’ll personally put a bullet in your temple.”
Air shoots down my nostrils. “If anything happens to Matheus, I’ll personally put a bullet ineveryone'stemple.” I adjust his statement, fully sincere.
The corners of his mouth twitch and the hand around mine tightens.
“We have a deal, Daniela.”
Before releasing my returning grip, my gaze cuts from his to the corpse.
“Kindly remove the traitor from my terrace. He’s ruining my ocean view.”
Behind us, Giovanni grunts, the sound almost like laughter.
“And have the mess mopped up by a cleaning crewplease. Leaving blood around is unhygienic and gross.”
Tomás nods and I almost think he’s going to smile. He doesn’t.
“That we fully agree on.”
When our physical connection breaks, I inhale a steadying breath and head back indoors. My attitude might have appearedeasy-breezy and composed with my straight-spined strut, but my stomach is churning, and my hands won’t stop shaking.
That whole situation was beyond intense. I’d be inhuman if I wasn’t shaken by it. Most of all, I’m anxious to see Matheus and nervous at how he’d react when I show up––when I tell him the real reason why I’ve returned.
While I pull on skin-tight Lycra shorts, strap my dagger holster to my thigh, and shove my feet into a pair of track shoes, I hear Giovanni make a phone call from the terrace.
First, he orders a cleaning team to dispose of the body and then hangs up.
Moments after, he answers an incoming call and his tone completely changes, huskier—seductive. It’s like sunshine bursts through a crack in his darkness.
The gritty texture resembles Matheus’ voice when he’s just woken up, all warm and sleepy, and offers me a lazy smile that makes my belly flip.
I can’t fully hear his conversation until he tells the caller he loves them too.
“Yo también te amo,baby.I’m coming to the hospital now.”
I guess it's not impossible for a sadistic hitman to find a sliver of light in his black soul.
To find love where only death exists.
Leaving the villa behind, I start off jogging, focused on my most important mission to date. I plow through dry, wild grass and crunch over tiny stones, moving onto the gravel driveway fronting the mansion.
Immediately, I’m greeted by two Italian armed guards. One of them stops my advance with an abrupt raised hand.
