Both men nodded and stepped aside, knowing their place. Armanelli blood was still king, and they were mere pawns not looking to rock the boat. We pushed past them, and Bastian let out a breath.
I glanced at him and saw him scan the balcony, eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed. Fear surfaced in the way he flexed his neck. I realized that Bastian was finally scared of losing something. Katie was more than just a game piece to him.
I wondered what he’d do if he lost her to me tonight instead of the bratva, if I claimed her tonight as an untouchable, as mine.
22
Katie
Men, by nature, had to be stupid. I was sure of it.
Bastian had given me numerous lectures about not leaving his side, as if I were a sheep, only accustomed to being herded.
I played the role well enough and nodded at his requests. Then I promptly faked having to pee.
He didn’t even question me.
Women should have been leading the world, not men.
It took one coy look Georgie’s way and a lift of an eyebrow for him to excuse himself. He knew better than to draw a crowd. He wanted time alone; he wanted an explanation.
He wanted me.
I strode out onto the balcony. The wind chilled me, and the night air washed over me like a calm before a storm. The stars from this far out of the city shone brighter, louder, and more vividly.
The cool cement railing was just thick enough to allow me to lean on it and really peer up into the night, get lost in the darkness of it all. This was the place I felt most at home, surrounded by nothing but myself in a fine outfit, bathed in ink-black shadows.
“I could push you over the edge for the shit you’ve been pulling.”
“Georgie.” I spun around.
His face had already reddened with the anger he wanted to release. He was bursting at the seams to unload on me. He stepped right up to me, making me distinctly aware of his size advantage over me, and stared me down. “I should kill you, shouldn’t I?”
I shrugged. “You could. It wouldn’t do you much good, though. Things are bad enough already. You’re sleeping with the enemy, Georgie. Dipping your toes where they shouldn’t go.”
“No!” he spat. “You’re doing that! How could you jump from me to him? Bastian? An Armanelli?”
“So what?” I asked innocently. “He’s a nice man.”
“He’s not. He’s one of the most dangerous men in the city.”
I jerked back, feigning shock. “Don’t lie to me, Georgie.”
“God damn. I told them you didn’t know!” He threw his hands up. “I told them all.”
“Told who?” This was the reason I was out here. I was the woman he trusted.
“God, you’re beautiful, Katie. But you’re naïve. That man you’re with tonight, honey, he’s got big ties everywhere. He’s dangerous.” His hand went to my cheek and rubbed it slowly.
I didn’t cringe or shudder, even though my stomach clenched. The old feeling of my gut twisting when I was with a man I didn’t want seemed amplified. After being with Rome, after having hands I wanted on me instead of ones I needed on me for the family had bile rising in my throat. “No one’s that dangerous, Georgie.”
His hand slid to my neck. The snarl that came from him was feral. “That what you think after the stunt you pulled in that bar? You’re a tiny thing, and just because you got one over on me doesn’t make you invincible.”
He’d started to squeeze my neck, his sweaty hands trying with all their might to scare me. I knew I could hold my breath for at least thirty seconds. Choking someone out was much more work than people thought. Remaining calm was a tactic that would afford me energy, extra oxygen, and enough time to let him keep talking. I’d turned my recorder on. He’d been dumb enough to start this conversation without searching me.
His emotions, his love, his recklessness were getting the best of him.
It made me wonder how anyone who was in love could ever be useful. Is that why Rome had avoided our relationship? Had avoided every relationship?