“Now my feelings are doubly hurt. So why don’t you get out of the car so you can make me feel a whole lot better when I fucking kill you both,” he adds, his tone angrier now as he pulls the hammer back on his .45 and takes a few steps away from the door. The distance allows him to keep his eyes locked on mine when he stands up straight.
I finally slide my fingers out of Arabella’s pussy, and because I’m the bastard I am, I stare Ferro dead in the eyes as I lift them to my mouth and suck her juices off each one. His gaze narrowing, his lips twitching, and his hand’s slight shake are all the microexpressions I need to let me know my move made him even more murderous. But his suddenly shouted, “Out! Fucking now!” makes me chuckle inside that I was so easily able to throw him off when he clearly has the upper hand in this precarious position we’re in.
I help Arabella fix her dress, panic in her eyes as she discreetly looks up at me, her expression conveying just how terrified she is, and it pisses me right the fuck off. I stay hyperalert of Ferro’s every move, knowing I’ll have to wait for the opportune moment to make any kind of move. I have no weapons on me. Anything I would’ve had was in my car that’s now nothing but rubble. If there’s a way to get to Maxwell’s prone body on the ground mere feet away, maybe I could get his gun out of his hip holster—
“Not going to happen. So don’t bother trying anything stupid,” Ferro interrupts my thoughts as we stand up out of the backseat. “Now, if you will so kindly make your way over to my ride, we can get this party started.”
It’s then we see the SUV parked behind us, the same henchman who spotted me at the ball behind the wheel. I cast one last glance in Maxwell’s direction, but I know when I’ve been beaten. At least for now. So I don’t make an idiotic move; I don’t bolt toward my old friend’s body to try to get to his weapon. Instead, I do as this motherfucker says and head toward his vehicle, keeping my body between Ferro and Arabella the entire time.
I reach ahead of her and open the back door, murmuring for only her to hear, “I’ve got you, baby,” hoping she trusts me enough to let me take the lead and get us out of this situation. God, I don’t know what I’d do if she makes a wrong move and sets him off. He wanted her dead before, so I know he’d have no qualms with killing her now, even before doing whatever it is he plans to do with us.
I slide in after her, and Ferro shoves the door closed behind me, hopping in the front passenger seat and spinning around to keep the gun aimed on me.
The driver takes off, and Ferro grins. “You made my plan go a lot smoother, pulling over for a quickie and all. When I set your car on fire, I thought for sure I’d have to run you off the road once your driver came to get you.”
“What do you want, Ferro?” Arabella asks, her hands squeezing together between her knees.
“What do I want?” he asks calmly, and then his voice takes on a hysterical note, “What do I want? I wanted you dead! I paid for a fucking service, and the quality I got was subpar, to put it lightly. But it’s hard to find good help these days. So now I have to take matters into my own hands.”
“Why?” she exhales. “Why are you doing this? I did everything you ever asked of me. I was a good, obedient wife to you, Ferro.”
He punches the seat with his other hand, his eyes turning wild. “Lies! You’re a fucking liar! You had one job, Arabella. One. Fucking. Job. Give me a fucking heir. That was all you were put on this earth to do. That’s it, and you couldn’t even do that.”
She leans forward a bit. “That’s not my fault. You can’t control when you get pregnant. It’s all in God’s hands.”
“Again with the fucking lies, Arabella. You can control when you get pregnant, especially when you’re purposely preventing it. I know about the goddamn birth control pills!” he shouts, and my piccolina deflates into her seat. I was proud of her tone; she’d sounded so believable when she delivered her argument with a gun in her face. But now that it’s been made clear Ferro knows the truth of her deceit, she can’t appeal to whatever humanity might be inside the fucker in front of us. She can’t blame not giving him an heir on infertility.