LEROI
Defiance blazes in Seraphine’s cornflower blue eyes, and I’m glad to see the flames. It’s a change from the sullen girl who stopped communicating with me in the shooting range.
She’s right. I shut down after her second orgasm, but I had to pull back. Since we left Fiori’s, I’ve been haunted by her panting breaths and her delectably sweet scent.
Everything about her draws me in, and it had taken every effort not to fuck her on that kitchen counter into a third climax.
“You owe me an apology,” she snaps.
“And I told you to lose the attitude.” Wrapping a hand around her throat, I run the pad of my thumb over the line of her jaw, where her skin is the softest velvet.
Her pupils dilate, and her full lips part with a gasp. Seraphine is so beautiful and breakable that all I want to do is lean in for a kiss. “Drop the attitude, angel. If anyone needs to apologize, it’s you.”
This little brat is testing my limits. I can’t forget that beneath her pretty exterior is an untamed serial killer. I’m playing with fire, knowing that I’ll get burned, yet I can’t resist the heat.
She rears back. “What for?”
“Jumping out of the car without permission and letting Fiori know you were alive. He could have raised the alarm. The little stunt you pulled with the lighter fluid could have set us all alight.”
She scowls, her chin rising. “You’re exaggerating. Gabriel can’t afford to wait around while we follow your convoluted plans.”
At the reminder of her brother, any excitement I had about taming Seraphine dwindles, and my gaze falters. I can’t let her think that her only living family member is being held in an unknown basement with no food or water. Hell, I’m already keeping enough secrets from her.
“What?” she asks.
“Your brother is safe,” I say, my grip on her neck loosening.
“How would you know that?” She clutches at my forearm.
“It’s something Joseph Di Marco said,” I mutter.
“Tell me.” Her fingers tighten around my wrist.
I exhale. “Di Marco said that Gabriel donated part of his liver to Capello.”
She gasps, her eyes widening, her bottom lip trembling, and her palm presses against my chest. “That’s not true. Gabriel wouldn’t. He’s terrified of needles—”
“I don’t think your brother really had a choice,” I mutter.
“We have to find him.” She shoves hard, trying to push me backward, but I cup her cheek.
“Miko is already searching all hospitals in the area,” I say. “We’ll find your brother. Right now, you have to trust that he’s safe.”
“How, when they’ve taken his liver?” she wails.
“Seraphine.” I place both hands on her shoulders and squeeze hard enough to recapture her attention. When her gaze meets mine again, I continue. “The surgeon would have taken a piece of Gabriel’s liver to give to Capello. After a few weeks, it regenerates to its original size.”
Her brows pull together, and she gazes up at me with glistening eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I slide my fingers through her silken strands and cradle the back of her head. “I’m telling you this because Capello wanted to keep Gabriel alive and well for future transplants.”
“More?”
I nod, my throat clogging with regret. If I’d known, I would have kept that bastard alive for long enough to extract the stolen liver. “There was a second transplant two years ago, but Gabriel would have already recovered from that. He’s safe now. We just need to find him.”
Her eyes flutter shut, and she flops forward, her head leaning against my chest. I wrap an arm around her shoulders. Seraphine spent five years forced to murder men because her mother cheated on a cheater. Her brother paid the price with his liver, not once, but twice, because his father is a bastard.
The underworld is a cesspool of backstabbers, killers, and sorry motherfuckers who would sell their own grandmothers to fuel their personal demons. Despite this, I’ve never heard of two innocent people suffering so much for the sins of their parents.
She draws back, her gaze meeting mine, and whines, “Are you going to make me leave?”
“No.” I brush a dark strand off her face. “You’ll stay here with me until we find your brother.”
Her face pinches. “What if he’s still sick?”
“Then we’ll take care of him until he can take care of you both. Even after that, I’ll still be there for you.”
She blinks, and a tear slides down her cheek. “How can we ever repay you?”
I lean down and press a kiss on her forehead. “Work with me to control your impulses to kill, and we’ll call it even.”
“What if I can’t?” she asks, her eyes glimmering.
“Then you’ll work out a way to do it without getting caught, restricting your kills to only those who deserve to die.”
She wraps her hand around mine and squeezes. I bring her knuckles to my lips and sigh. “I won’t give up on you, Seraphine. I promise.”
She gulps. “And you’ll stop holding back information?”
“Alright.”
My stomach twists at the half-truth. Anton trained me in the art of murder, and he put that collar around her neck and the chip under her skin. It’s exactly how he trains his dogs and he allowed Capello to do the same to a sixteen-year-old girl. It’s hard to reconcile the man I know with the man that helped create this version of her.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, her shoulders relaxing. “Can I ask for something else?”
“Anything,” I rasp.
“Don’t lock me up anymore. Sometimes, it feels like I’m still a prisoner.”
Guilt grips my chest so tightly that I feel the sting of its claws at the back of my throat. “You’re not my captive.”
“Then let me go out on the balcony or the terrace by myself,” she says, her voice breaking. “I’m cooped up in here, and it’s driving me crazy.”
My jaw tightens. “And if you hurt yourself again?”
“I won’t,” she rasps.
“Or hurt someone else?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve learned my lesson.”
Those mesmerizing blue eyes shine with innocence, sincerity, and a vulnerability that ignites my instincts to possess, protect, and provide. My mouth drifts close to her pink lips with an urge to comfort her with a kiss, even though somewhere deep in my psyche, my last shred of decency screams at me to stop.
I jerk my head to the side and force myself to look away. Seraphine draws me in with whatever allure she used to make men drop their guard. Even if I have enough resolve to not take advantage of her, she’s still a dangerous young woman capable of unpredictable acts of violence.
“Please,” she whispers. “I won’t let you down.”
The desperation in her voice pulls at my frayed heartstrings. She just wants a little freedom. I’m not Capello or his bastard sons. Who am I to keep her cooped up in this apartment?
My gaze wanders over her shoulder to the pile of steak cut into neat strips. How the hell did she manage that with just a table knife?
“Seraphine,” I say, my voice sharpening.
“What?”
“Have you been hiding weapons again?” I turn to look her full in the face.
Her eyes widen, and her lips part to form a perfect O. “No.”
I turn her around. “Then where did you get the knife?”
Her arm twitches toward a kitchen towel concealing a long knife, but I grab its hilt before she can even reach the counter.
With any other woman, my behavior would be irrational and controlling, but Seraphine near any weapon is like playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun.
She glances at the blade, her breath quickening. I can’t tell if it’s out of fear or excitement, but the sight of her looking so flustered makes my balls tighten.
Seraphine is a tornado in a Tiffany box. You never know what to find in that pretty little package.
“Answer my question,” I snarl.
“I found it,” she blurts, her pretty features crumpling. “Pietro had so many knives, and I took one. I wasn’t planning on using it to hurt anyone. When you’re not around, I get all these horrible thoughts and then all the memories pour in and I don’t know if it’s a dream and I’m still stuck in the basement because you’re not there to tell me I’m safe. Cutting things up is the only thing that helps.”
Her words continue in a stream that becomes more jumbled with each passing moment. I let her continue until tears are rolling down her cheeks.
“Seraphine,” I say.
“What?” she rasps.
“If you agree to go to bed right now, I won’t say anything about the knife.”
She stares up at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. After several heartbeats, her shoulders sag and she nods.
I can’t tell if I’m taming Seraphine or if she’s taming me.
