“Your property?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had any. Thought I took it all.”
“You bastard!” he bellows as he attempts to launch himself at me.
Donovan steps aside to watch the show. I don’t need his help; I’m kind of looking forward to schooling the arrogant Italian asshat on my own.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’m definitely looking forward to it.
I wait until Drago is mere inches from me with his fist raised. Long enough for him to think he has me where he wants me.
Then I step to the side and grab the offending arm as it whistles past in a punch that never had a prayer of landing. I twist it backward, forcing his body in the opposite direction, and bear down.
I put my weight on him relentlessly until I hear the audible snap I’m waiting for.
Renata gasps, but it’s lost in her brother’s scream. As he crumples to the floor, she’s suddenly in my face. “What the hell are you doing?”
For a moment, I can’t believe my eyes. She’s actually defending this asshole? Fifteen seconds ago, he had a gun pressed against her forehead. I raise my eyebrows. “I’m sorry, was that a serious question?”
“You didn’t have to do that!”
I gesture to Donavan to drag the softly moaning Drago into the trunk before turning back to Renata. “He was resisting.”
“You know he’s no match for you,” she says, her eyes burning. “You used unnecessary force.”
“Is there such a thing when it comes to a guy like him?”
“You were showing off,” she snaps, seeing right through me—not that I’m about to cop to that.
“This is business, Renata,” I say harshly. “About time you got used to that.”
Her eyes glaze over and her jaw tightens. “Of course it is. My fucking mistake.”
I’m in no fucking mood for the games today. “Get in the car.”
“No.”
I shrug and head for the vehicle. When she realizes that I’m about to drive away with her limp brother in the trunk, her eyes go wide as she realizes the choice she has to make.
“Wait!” She shoves past me and gets in. I climb in behind her, hearing a thump from the back and a muffled groan. Donovan must’ve gagged him well. Lucky for all of us, really.
“Is this necessary?” demands Renata.
“He pointed a gun at your head,” I remind her. “He tried to attack my man and me. I’d say it is actually pretty lenient, all things considered.”
She crosses her hands over her chest and shakes her head furiously. “You put a fucking tracker on me, didn’t you?”
I resist the urge to smile. “I suspected it wouldn’t take you long to get into trouble. And—shocker—I was right.”
“I was fine,” she snaps. “Perfectly fucking fine without you.”
“Fine?” I repeat. “You were on your ass on the pavement staring down the barrel of a gun. Fifteen minutes out of my sight and that’s the kind of trouble you get into?”
“That’s just how Drago and I fight.”
I stare at her until her cheeks flush pink. “You wanna repeat that for me one more time?”
“Shut up.”
“That’s what I thought. Donovan, take us back.”