Page 84 of Reaper
But do I?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Reaper
The truth will get out at some point. Adriana’s too smart, too determined, too aware that something’s off, to be kept away from it for good. At some point, she’ll find out that the reason her sister’s dead isn’t because Vanessa was an addict, but because she loved me, she stayed with me, and I got involved in Tank’s vendetta against the drug lord Victor Moretti. She died because of my choices. And if she had had the sense to never take me back, to break things off clean, she never would’ve been put in Moretti’s path.
But I couldn’t let her go.
Just like I can’t let Adriana go now.
Instead of giving her the hard truth, I give her the easier lie and take her by the hand and lead her to the upstairs of the Triad den. Down a long dark hallway lit by red lanterns carved with golden dragons, runes, and pagodas.
We stop at a heavy wooden door that’s had a sign with our names attached to it — Ricky DeMarco and Adriana Ruiz.
“They work fast,” I murmur.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Madam Lin gave them a full dossier on us before we arrived,” Adriana says. “She seems the type to know everything about everyone, even the things they think are secret.”
Something about how she says that and the way her eyes linger on me sends a twinge through my heart. I squeeze herhand, then take the door by the handle. “I have no idea what favor Eng is going to ask of us, and we might die doing whatever it is, but if that’s the case, I want to spend my last night with you.”
She smiles. It’s faint, but it touches her eyes and squeezes my hand. “I’d like that.”
I push open the door and we step inside. The room takes my breath away—elegant in a way that makes me feel like I don't belong here. Dark wood furniture with intricate carvings, silk screens painted with mountain landscapes and cherry blossoms, a low table set with delicate porcelain. Red and gold accents catch the soft light from paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Even the bed is draped in rich burgundy silk that probably costs more than I used to make in a month.
But all that elegance can't quiet the gnawing in my chest. The way Adriana looked at me in the hallway, that comment about Madam Lin knowing everything about everyone—I can feel her pulling away, piece by piece. The doubts are eating at her, and I can't blame her for having them. I'm a walking lie when it comes to Vanessa.
I close the door behind us and turn the lock. The soft click echoes in the silence.
"Come here," I say, taking her hand and leading her toward the bed. She follows, but there's something distant in her movements, like part of her mind is somewhere else entirely.
I stop at the foot of the bed and turn to face her, taking both her hands in mine. "Adriana." Her name comes out rough, like gravel. "I need you to know something."
She looks up at me, those brown eyes searching my face.
"I love you," I say. "And loving you — it’s the first time in a long time that I've wanted to live."
Something shifts in her expression, the distance melting away. "When I first met you," she says softly, "I never couldhave imagined this. Never could have imagined loving you." Her fingers tighten around mine. "But I do. God help me, I do. And every time I look into your eyes, I lose myself completely."
I pull her closer, one hand sliding up to cup her face.
When our lips meet, it's like the rest of the world disappears. The kiss is deep, desperate, full of everything we can't say out loud. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer.
We break apart just long enough to breathe, foreheads pressed together.
"Whatever happens tomorrow," I whisper against her lips, "whatever Eng asks of us—tonight is ours."
She nods, her breath warm against my skin. "Tonight is ours."
I kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her lips, the way she melts against me. Her hands slide up my chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle through my shirt. When she pulls back, her eyes are dark with want.
I lean in again, capturing her mouth with mine. This time the kiss deepens, becomes something hungrier. Her lips part under mine, and I explore her mouth with my tongue, drawing a soft moan from her throat that sends heat straight through me. My hands tangle in her dark hair, tilting her head back so I can kiss her deeper.
Minutes pass, or maybe hours — I lose track of time as we stand there kissing in the soft glow of the lanterns. Her body presses against mine, curves fitting perfectly against my harder edges. Every kiss feeds into the next, building something between us that feels bigger than both of us combined.
When I trail my lips down to her neck, she arches against me, her breath coming faster. I can feel her pulse racing under my mouth as I kiss the sensitive spot just below her ear.
"Reaper," she whispers, and the way she says my name makes something inside me break open.
