Black Hearted (The Margarelli Brothers 1)

I had a feeling ‘get in my bed and behave’ wouldn’t go over too well.

I turned the water on full blast. Just the cold. I stripped and stepped in the icy stream.

That did it.

I was wide awake and sober as a judge.

And just like that, I knew what to say.

I shaved and dressed carefully. I wanted to look my best. Another damned thing I hadn’t worried about before Francesca came back into my life. She would be mine, dammit. She would be my wife.

It was time to go get my woman.

Chapter Forty-Four

Francesca

“Someone to see you,” Maria said with a wary look. She bit her lip nervously. “Are you armed?”

“What? Who is it? Of course, I am armed.”

I was always armed. The only time I didn’t have at least one weapon on me was when I was upstairs with my daughter. I took off my guns in the bedroom. But I slept with at least one weapon under my pillow.

Today, I was in my office bright and early, working on all the things I had neglected over the past few weeks. I had started the day with a run on the treadmill, watching the news. I was too sore from all the vigorous workouts over the past few days to train or do anything more than cardio.

And work was demanding my full attention.

It was early, but the problems had piled up while I was dealing with Vincent’s injuries and the stressful week that had led up to his return from the dead. And today alone, there were already issues with a shipment of stolen medical supplies that I’d been given as a tribute.

Some tribute, I thought with an eye roll. Thanks for nothing. I had a feeling the very idiots who gave us the supplies had taken them back.

This is why you always get paid in cash, Francesca.

I heard my father’s voice in my head. He had taught me many lessons as a little girl, particularly after he had given up on having a son. I was his blood, and he wanted me to be tough and smart, even if I was only a girl. Females were definitely the weaker sex in his eyes. So he’d been particularly hard on me.

For once, though, the mean old bastard was right. I would only accept cash from now on. If someone owed tribute and had stolen goods, let them sell them off and give me my cut after. How they did it was not my concern.

I sighed and rubbed my temples. I would have to make an example of them. I didn’t like it. But I couldn’t have people thinking they could walk all over me, either.

“Give the guns to me. Knives, too.”

“What?” I asked, giving Maria a perplexed look.

“Have some wine. Maybe a valium. Take a deep breath.”

“What are you talking about?”

She glanced over her shoulder and shrugged.

“She’s armed,” she said to someone I couldn’t see. And then she stepped aside.

“I figured,” a gravelly voice said as Vincent’s muscular frame filled the doorway. “Don’t shoot,” he said, holding his hands in the air.

“Don’t tempt me,” I replied icily. I was not surprised to see him. I realized I had been waiting for this since the moment I slammed the limo door behind me. But now that he was actually here, my fury was not as great as I had anticipated. I was too happy to see his handsome, familiar face. Still, I did not forgive his controlling nature. I would not look past it.

I could not.

There was no hope for us, after all.

He did not sit. I did not ask him to.

“Fully dressed today, I see. That’s unfortunate,” he said, a clear attempt at a joke.

I tilted my head to the side, suppressing the urge to smile. The fact that he had nearly made me laugh only fueled my resolve to resist him. Damn him for almost melting me so fast!

I had to stay firm. I would not go down that path again. Not for any man, no matter how handsome, brave, intelligent, or charming.

No matter how much I loved him.

“What do you want, Vincent?”

“To talk. And to bring you this.” He held a key in the palm of his hand. I squinted at it, hard. The key to the collar. If this was a test or a game to prove my obedience, I was going to fail it. If it was a peace offering, it was too little, too late.

But after having three jewelers fail to remove the damned necklace, I was overjoyed to see it all the same.

I held out my hand.

“Give it to me.”

“Hear me out first,” he said, closing his fingers over it. I almost groaned in frustration. He was toying with me. Using his power. I hated him in that moment. I hated the smug complacency of all men.