Bound by Temptation (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #4)(62)
Less than two minutes later, there was a knock. He must have been close or it would have taken him much longer to reach the bedroom. For a couple of seconds, I wasn’t sure if I could even move. My legs felt numb.
“Lily, you have to open the door. It’s locked. If I break it down, people will be up here in no time.”
That was all it took. I crossed the room in a few steps and opened the door. My heart was beating in my throat, and only when I saw Romero’s worried face did I dare to lower the phone from my ear and hang up. I felt safe now, even though I knew I was far from it. We both were in grave danger if anyone found us like that. By calling Romero, I’d put him in harm’s way. How could I do that to someone I loved? Hadn’t I gone through with this marriage exactly to protect Romero?
Romero eyes wandered over my half-open corset, my disheveled hair and ripped skirt, and his face flashed with fury. He stepped into the room, closed the door and cupped my face. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
I shook my head, which I realized a moment later, could be taken as an answer to either question. “I stabbed him. I couldn’t bear his touch. I didn’t want his hands on me. I…” Romero pulled me against him, my cheek pressed against his strong chest. I listened to the sound of his pounding heart. Outside he looked calm but his heart betrayed him. “I didn’t sleep with him. I couldn’t.”
“He’s still alive,” he murmured after a moment before he pulled back. Deprived of his warmth, I wrapped my arms around myself. Romero advanced on my husband whose eyes were darting between Romero and me like he was watching a tennis match. His breathing rattled in his chest, but he’d dragged himself closer to the desk and was reaching for his phone. Romero stood over him, then calmly pushed his arm back down to the ground.
Benito fell onto his side with a pained gasp. He reminded me of a beetle who was trapped on his back, its legs helplessly pedaling above its body. I didn’t feel any pity though.
“You,” Benito snarled, then started coughing. Blood speckled his lips. “Did your Capo set this up? Chicago will make him pay tenfold. Dante won’t let you make a fool out of me and everyone else.”
“You aren’t important enough for Luca to give a shit about you,” Romero said coldly. He had the same expression I’d seen when he’d watched the Russians getting tortured in the basement.
I shivered.
Realization settled on Benito’s face as his eyes swiveled from Romero to me. “You and her.” His mouth pulled into a nasty grimace, spittle clinging to his lips. “You nasty whore let him f*ck you. You--”
He never got the chance to finish his sentence. Romero stepped up to Benito, jerked him up by his collar and then in one practiced motion he pulled his knife and plunged it in an upward angle between my husband’s ribs, silencing his rattling breath. Without even blinking, Romero let go of Benito, who fell to his side, lifeless.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Liliana
Romero had just killed a member of the Outfit for me. Our eyes met, and cold fear spread in my chest like fog. Romero wiped his knife clean on my husband’s pant leg before he sheathed it in its holder.
My throat constricted as I walked toward him. “This means war.”
“We can come up with a story. I’ll pretend I’ve lost my mind. I’ve been lusting for you forever but you were never interested in me and today I snapped, and barged into your bedroom and attacked your husband, who tried to defend himself with the letter opener, which I then used to stab him. We can make it look like I tried to rape you so nobody suspects you were involved. Nobody would doubt it the way you look.” He stroked my cheek. “The bastard died too quickly for how he treated you.”
I couldn’t believe he was suggesting something like that. It was bad enough that I’d dragged him into this at all. I wouldn’t make him look like a disgusting rapist to save my own hide. “I won’t pretend you tried to rape me. You are the only man I want to be with.”
Romero bridged the distance between us again and wrapped me in a tight embrace. His smell, his warmth, the way my body perfectly fit against his; this felt right. My eyes found Benito on the ground. I’d tried to be his wife and failed, but I couldn’t be sad about it. I’d never wanted this, and he’d known it from the start. He would have forced himself on me, maybe that didn’t deserve a death sentence but he lived in a world where death was almost always the punishment. His eyes were still open and it seemed they were staring straight through me. The longer I stared at him, the worse their look seemed to get. I shivered violently.
Romero pushed me gently away. “Don’t look at him.” He walked toward the body and turned Benito so he was facing the ground, and no longer me. And just like that I felt better. He was still dead, but at least he wasn’t looking at me with that reproachful expression anymore.
I stumbled toward the bed and sank down. My legs were too shaky to hold me. Romero stood for a moment before he joined me. He brushed his thumb over my cheek, catching a few stray tears. I hadn’t even noticed I’d started crying again. “He’s dead now. He can’t hurt you ever again,” he said roughly. “Nobody will ever hurt you again. I won’t allow it.”
“If you confess to murdering Benito, you’ll be killed and then you won’t be around to protect me from anything.” Maybe it was a low move to play the guilt card but I couldn’t let Romero take the blame.