Athena
I glanced outside my window at the night sky, my arms folded as I remained seated on my bed. I had been in that position for a few hours.
Ever since Luciano’s display of rage and shit. Emotions rolled within me like a damned sandwich and it was hard to fathom what exactly I was feeling?
Was I angry? Frustrated? Mad or anxious? Suffice to say I was feeling a bit of everything. How could he? How could he do that?
I always knew he was ruthless but seeing him act that way, so close up…My eyes closed at the thought and I shuddered.
For a brief moment I tried to imagine his fists on me instead of Marcus, but I really couldn’t picture it. Sure I was terrified of Luciano’s rage, but not because I feared he could take it out on me one day. I was afraid he would get mega possessive and I definitely hadn’t seen it coming.
A knock, so soft I almost didn’t hear it, resounded my door. I glared at it, willing the man behind it to combust into flames.
“Raven?” he called, sounding like a child. Ah hell, it had to be a crime. One minute, Luciano Moretti was your typical mafia lord, cruel, dangerous with a sprinkle of madness. Another minute he’s your adorable little boy, trying to appease his way after throwing a tantrum.
I was not amused. His actions had not made sense. He shouldn’t have hurt Marcus like that.
“What do you want?” I said with as much bite as I could infuse into my words.
“Come on Cara,” He whined, his voice gruff. “You can’t stay mad at me forever.”
“Try me,” I hissed, grinding my teeth in anger. How the hell was he so assured that I couldn’t stay mad at him? Someone definitely needed to realize that he couldn’t get his way all the damn time!
“Really?” He said, and I could imagine the smug grin on his stupid face. “Even if I made steak?”
Steak?
He made steak?! Now he drove a very hard bargain. Steak sounded very enticing. Soft and meaty with a glass of red wine to pair with.
That did not sound so bad. Except this was Luciano. Hell if I went out, he would probably pound my face in steak.
Backtrack Athena.
“I’m not hungry.” I snapped.
I heard him sigh against the door, knocking harder now. “You have to eat, woman. Open the door.”
“No way in hell.”
“Raven!”
“Keep yelling, I don’t think they heard you loud and clear in Manhattan! How about a little louder?”
“Do not mess with me, woman!” He bellowed.
I huffed and shifted in my bed until I had my back against the wall. I was my fucking person! I was going to do whatever the hell I wanted and Luciano could go take a hike!
“Raven, fuck, come on Cara, don’t be like this?” He muttered, slamming fists against the door. “Cara!”
My heart thudded at the way he called for me. I had no idea what Cara meant, but I’d heard him call me that in the most passionate of ways, so I knew it had to be an endearment. And fuck, it pulled at my heartstrings. A part of me -small but still a part of me- loved the way he called for me. Loved how doting he was and how defensive he had been on my behalf.
I almost slapped a hand over my face in irritation. What the hell was wrong with me? “Don’t call me that!”
“I swear Gonzalez, if you don’t get your ass out here, it’ll be bright fucking red when I get my hands on you!”
His pleas turned into threats and I chuckled.
“Scream all you want, Luciano. I’m not coming out!”
He swore, slammed his hand against the door, and walked away. I listened to his retreating footsteps until I couldn’t hear them again and sighed.
Well, that went well.
And guess who was going to sleep hungry? Me, that’s who. I had oh so graciously rejected the offer of a damned good steak for dinner, my stomach was going to growl for hours.
But it was worth it. I had managed to break through Moretti’s calm persona. Would it sound like I was bragging if I told Frederick that I drove Luciano so crazy, that I had him begging to see me? Or making dinner.
The notion made me feel powerful. That was enough to compensate for any hunger pangs that I would feel that night. I walked to the closet to change into my pajamas and had almost settled completely in my bed when the incessant knocking came back.
“Cara?” Luciano’s voice reached my ears and I groaned. “The steak will get cold, baby. Come on. Just talk to me? Or open the door a little so I can see you, Cara. Please?”
Fuck. How was I supposed to say no to that? He sounded so damned adorable, I couldn’t fucking help it.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself against how deliciously sensual his voice sounded, and walked towards the door, pulling it open just a tiny bit.
Through the space, I could see his pretty face pulled in a long sad frown. It was almost heartbreaking to look at.
Wake up Athena, that was the same man three hours ago who beat the shit out of his driver.
“Hey,” he mumbled, blinking sad puppy eyes at me.
“Hey to you too,” I grumbled.
“I scared you, didn’t I?” He said, blinking innocently at me. “I apologize for that.”
“Like that fixes anything,” I scoffed and made to close the door back when he stretched a hand in between.
“Marcus is at the hospital,” he said and I cocked my head to the side, regarding him in disbelief.
“So what? You want a fucking candy for that? You expect me to congratulate you on cleaning a mess you made or what?”
“Don’t make it so fucking hard Raven! I never apologize. I just did and I feel a lot touchy as hell! Let’s have dinner and then we can go to bed.”
I glared at him for what seemed like forever before relenting. “Fine!”
“Good girl!” He grinned and wiggled his fingers, indicating for me to hold his hands. I gave him the stink eye, pushed the door wider, and walked past him.
“I’m not touching those bloodied hands.” I sniffed.
Behind me, as we walked to the dining area, I heard him chuckle. “You can touch me elsewhere. You won’t find me complaining,” He joked and I fixed him with another glare, settling in my seat.
“You’re terribly dirty-minded.”
“Says the woman who got the joke,” He winked, stabbing a wonderful piece of steak from the pan on the dining table and dropping it onto my plate. The entire room smelled divine. The sauce he had used on the steak was absolutely amazing. “Enjoy Cara,”
I picked up my fork reluctantly, peering at him through narrowed slits. “This isn’t poisoned, right?”
Luciano gave me a look that told me he was getting tired of me being clueless then sighed. “Sometimes I wonder why I stick around you. You are as slow as a Tartaruga. If I wanted to get rid of you Cara, I certainly would not use poison.”
“Hey!” I yelled, stabbing the steak with a small smile playing in the corner of my lips.”What would you use?”
He hummed, taking a seat directly opposite me, and served himself two steaks as well. “I think a gun would be more effective,”
“Why? I’d say a knife would ensure the job was done.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I never pegged you for someone who knows how to use a knife, Cara,”
I gave a tight smile and shoved a morsel in my mouth. What the hell was I thinking talking about killing methods with the man I was supposed to spy on?! I peeked at him beneath my lashes to see a much more relaxed look on his face.
I never would have thought in a million years that my father’s killer would cook me dinner. Or that I would actually eat the dinner in question. I supposed beneath all that hardness, there was a human.
We talked for a while, cracking dumbass jokes. I watched him laugh from across the table at a dry joke he had said and shook my head. He looked different. Almost humane.
To anyone passing by, no one would guess he was the same man who had thrashed the shit out of his right-hand man or who had slit people’s throats ever since he was eighteen. No one would guess he was the one who killed my father.
I guess that was how he fooled the public.
‘And now he’s fooling you.’
I downed my glass of wine, abandoned my half-eaten steak, and poured myself another glass, humming as he related some old Italian story he heard as a kid.
I barely heard what he said though. My mind was preoccupied with what all of this meant for us, what it meant for me.
This changed nothing. It didn’t change that I was a spy. It didn’t change my revenge plans. It didn’t change that I would be the one to end him or that if he found out I was a spy, I would be dead meat.
Nothing would change. Absolutely nothing.