He moves me roughly, because even though I’m on top, Antonio’s in control.Always.
“The price for being at my side is high,Princesa. I’ll take everything you have and more. I’ll leave you trembling as I steal your soul.”
“Take it. Take it all,” I murmur into his damp skin. “It’s yours.”
Without stopping the punishing thrusts, he slides a hand between us, fingering my clit until my body tightens and mind is blank. “I can’t,” he mutters. “Too close.” His ragged breaths are quick and shallow. “Let go. Now,” my dark prince demands.
We find our pleasure together. The orgasms tear through us as we cling to each other.
It’s only when I collapse against him, counting his heartbeats, that I’m filled with an unexplained sense of dread.Tomorrow is promised to no one,a small voice inside me whispers.
I wrap myself tighter around him and savor everything about the moment. Because I know it’s true.Tomorrow is promised to no one.
54
ANTONIO
I’m in the car on my way back from a meeting when the phone rings.
A blocked number.
I hesitate for a few seconds, before answering, but it could be one of Will’s men. “Yes?”
“The boy wonder,” a curt voice replies from the other end of the line. “Dimitri Fedorov here.”
ThePakhanplacing his own calls.Interesting. We’ve spoken on occasion, but it’s rare. The extent of my communication with the Bratva leader normally involves a nod from across a crowded room at a social function.
“I’m hardly a boy.”
“Hardly. And I see you’ve amassed the confidence of a man. If I had called you the boy wonder ten years ago, you would have told me that you’re no man’s second-in-command.”
“What do you want?”
“Ah, still impatient, Huntsman,” he clucks. “There’s a storm brewing. I’m getting whiffs of it all the way up here. My house is so secluded, I normally don’t hear a damn thing when I’m home. It’s disturbing my orange trees. They prefer warm, predictable weather.”
“I’m short on time, Dimitri, and I hate riddles. What can I do for you?”
“Pity about the riddles. I’m a fan myself. But I think we have something we can do for each other.”
“And what would that be?”
“If you want the details, I’ll be at the Majestic Café at 11:30, enjoying a custard tart. Come alone.”
Alone?So one of your goons can shoot me in the back? It’s so preposterous I almost laugh. “And you’ll be alone?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, before ending the call.
What exactly does he want?And maybe more importantly, what does he know?
I haven’t shared the details of how Tomas will be delivered with either Lucas or Cristiano. Not because I don’t trust them. There’s no way either of them is leaking information to my enemies. But I don’t have many details about the transfer, and I assured Will I’d keep his name out of it. Although they know the day is coming.
We’re operating with a lot of unknowns right now. Including who will run Premier after Tomas is dead. Fedorov senses something in the wind. Maybe he wants Premier?Not a fucking chance.
I punch a number into my phone. “Are you both in the villa?” I ask when Cristiano answers.
“Yeah. Everything okay?”
“Put me on speaker.”