“Too good to Katalina,” I finished for him and stood up. I needed to get back to her. I needed to clear my head. “I need a week with her. She needs to come to terms with what we all are to her before she chooses her fate.”
“We don’t have a week.” Bastian’s hand flew down on the table. “This is going to be difficult enough without you asking for extra time to fuck her.”
“You know damn well I’m not fucking her on our family’s time. I could do that with anyone. If anything, she’s fucking me, and I’m trying to scramble through the shitstorm of feelings we have for each other. She needs to choose us, Bastian. She’s our girl; she belongs with us. We have to make her see that.”
“I’m aware. I’m also aware that the bratva are going to be up our asses because she disappeared into the thick of the night. They’ll sweep my place, everyone’s place, and then they’ll figure out we’re hiding her. She’s a convoluted complication now. Are we torturing her or protecting her from them? They’ll find either of those things a slight to their family.”
“So what?” I shrugged.
“So I don’t need a fucking war on my hands!” He raised his voice and got in my face.
“You’re the head of the most powerful mob family in the country, most likely the world. Undoubtedly, you will someday have a war on your hands, Bastian. Let’s have it be one that’s worth it. The bratva are nowhere near as organized as we are.”
Cade perked up, ready with stats. “He’s right. They’re organizing slowly. They’ve grown over the past decade in terms of government allies. Small gangs around the city have teamed up with them also. But we’re the Armanellis, Bastian. We got this.”
“I want to rule without fear and bloodshed.”
“The mafia doesn’t get that luxury,” interjected Dante.
“I need a week,” I said.
Bastian scratched his forehead. “Fine. Let the bloodbath begin.”
27
Katie
He’d left a note for me that morning.
Notes weren’t my thing.
Not anymore.
I’d only ever gotten two. One from Rome telling me he’d never write me again—which was ironic now that I held another one of his notes in my hand—and the other . . .
The other one was from the only other person I’d ever loved. It was a bad one, a deadly one. One that made me want to lie down and die with him.
My mood soured. The man better wake me up next time he was going to leave me for hours on end.
Plus, the note wasn’t even good. There weren’t any hearts or balloons or our names scribbled next to each other.
I’ll be backin a couple hours. The cabinet next to the bookshelf has food.
Rome
PS Do you think Cleopatra was ever kidnapped?
PPS Books written by Poe are on that shelf if you want to read.
By food,he meant granola bars and apple juice. My stomach growled in protest when I’d eaten three and still felt starved.
When I heard footsteps in the hallway, I sat up in the bed. I chucked one of the bars at his head as he walked in.
“What the fuck, Katie?” He swerved to try and balance the tray he had in his hands.
“That better be something better than the shit you left me,” I said, wiggling a little too excitedly at seeing him with food. I needed real nourishment after the night we’d had together. Plus, I’d been left by myself for hours, naked in a bed that smelled like him. I’d had a bit too much fun with that, honestly.
He set the tray down on the nightstand. “I cooked you macaroni and chicken. You’re welcome. Because I don’t cook.”