Arranged love

Grave stands beside the table, lifts up his shirt, and removes his studded black leather belt from his jeans. He then wraps it around Jeremy’s forearm and pulls tight, cutting off the blood supply. Cross comes up to the front of the table and removes his cross necklace and lighter. He runs the flame along the metal while Titan unscrews the lid to a water bottle and pours it over Jeremy’s wound, washing away the blood. He cries into his gag when Titan takes his own shirt and wipes off the water with the edge of the fabric, drying it off.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

Cross flips the Zippo closed and then presses the cross to the knife wound on Jeremy’s hand. He sobs behind the gag as Cross does it several times before it’s cauterized. Then everyone lets go of him and takes a step back.

“I have all night,” I tell him.

Trying to catch his breath, he yanks his shirt from his mouth. Watery eyes meet mine. “I didn’t-”

“The cameras don’t work.” I interrupt whatever lie he was about to tell me. Although I wasn’t lying-I do have all night-that doesn’t mean I want to spend all night here.

“A man came in,” he rushes out, holding his arm.

Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. “And?”

“And he asked me if you were available.”

My brows rise. “Me?”

He nods quickly and sniffs. “I told him no, but Luca was there. Up in the office. And he asked me what time we closed.” He closes his eyes tightly and starts sobbing again.

“And?” I snap, making him jump.

“He paid me a thousand dollars in cash to cut the security tapes,” he admits shamefully.

I reach up and rub my chin. “You let someone shoot Luca for a thousand dollars?”

“No. No.” He shakes his head quickly. “Shoot? He didn’t say that. He never said that he was going to hurt Luca.”

“What the fuck did you think he was going to do?” Cross snorts.

“He wanted to talk to Bones. He asked for him by name …”

“Everyone knows who the fuck Bones is.” Titan slaps the back of his head.

“But why did he think I’d be there?” I speak my own thoughts. If someone wanted to talk to me, they could have shown up here at Kingdom or called me. The Kings don’t hide. We don’t have to.

“Seriously?” Grave arches a brow at my question. “How long do you expect us all to pretend that you don’t own half of Glass?”

“It’s not public knowledge.” I ignore his previous question.

“The Bianchis know,” Titan speaks.

“Did you know the guy?” Grave asks Jeremy.

“No. Never seen him before.”

My eyes go over to Titan, and he shrugs, thinking what I am. Everyone in Las Vegas knows who the fuck the Bianchis are. So if it wasn’t one of Luca’s brothers, then who the hell was it? I take the pocketknife out and flip it open once again.

“What are you doing?” Jeremy tries to jump up from his seat, but Nite holds him in place by his shoulders while standing behind the chair. “I told you everything I know.”

“You did,” I agree. “But you also sold Luca out for a thousand dollars, and I can’t have that.” Whoever shot Luca knows this guy is weak. They put a target on his head, maybe on purpose. Either way, he can’t be trusted. Not with my business and not with Mia’s life.

“Wait. Wait.” He lifts his hands in surrender. “I can help you-”

“No, you can’t.” I interrupt him. “Nite.”

He grips his hair and yanks Jeremy’s head back while I reach out and slice the blade across his neck from ear to ear. His body jerks as blood pours from the wound and down his bare chest.

One problem down. Just a hundred more to go.

MIA

I STAND AT the kitchen island when I hear a door open and close. Dillan is home. My eyes snap up, looking around, knowing it wasn’t the front door. He must be coming through the garage. This house may be large, but it’s eerily quiet and gives me goose bumps. It almost has an abandoned feel to it. I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep once I lie down. I might have to stay up several nights just in order to sleep for one.

I stand still, trying to calm my breathing. All of a sudden, I’m nervous. I keep playing that one time I saw him over and over in my head. Although he said he knew Luca, did he know who I was when he bought me in New York? He had to have remembered me, right? But why didn’t he just tell me? So much could have been explained. I would have seen him as an ally, not a wealthy sadistic man who was buying me as a toy to sexually torture. I would have begged him to call Luca before he left me in Malibu. Maybe Luca would have actually spoken to me.

I could kick myself for not recognizing him in the limo. He looks different but also the same. It’s hard to explain.

His shoes slapping on the marble floor let me know he’s getting close, and I rub my sweaty hands on the T-shirt … shit! I realize I’m barely dressed. I did my laundry but hadn’t changed yet. I’m still wearing his damn boxers.

I could go do that real quick. Sidestepping the island, I go to leave the kitchen just as he steps in under the archway. He comes to a stop at the same time I do when he sees me. Blue eyes drop to my bare feet and run up over my legs, chest, and face. When his eyes meet mine, he’s practically growling.

I don’t have time to process why he’s mad at me because all I can think about is he’s covered in blood. It’s not on his hands or arms. I can tell by the line on his forearms that he’s washed them clean. But it’s splattered on his tattooed neck and clothes. This is what I imagined a Dark King would look like-they slaughter their enemies. I step toward him. “Dillan …”

He takes a step back, and I stop once again, not sure what I am going to do. I’ve grown up with this. Blood doesn’t scare me. I once watched my father and Luca kill a man because he was two grand short on a loan my father had given him. “Are you … are you okay?” I manage to get out.

He slowly nods. “Fine,” he clips, and his eyes drop back to my legs.

I realize once again that I’m wearing one of his T-shirts. “Sorry,” I mutter, grabbing the hem and trying to stretch it longer than it already is. It just makes the neckline dip low, exposing more of my chest. “I don’t have any clothes here. What I wore is in the dryer. I hope you don’t mind …”

“It’s fine.” He looks away from me, his eyes going over all the food I made.

“I thought you’d be hungry,” I say softly, unable to meet his stare. This is so awkward. I have never wished I was locked away in our house in Italy more than I do right now.

There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “I’m going to shower.” I watch his shoes turn and hear him walk away.

I lean against the island and let out a long breath, telling myself that I’m a goddamn Bianchi, and I won’t let the fact that I have a pussy allow him to treat me like I’m a fucking flower.