The Woman with the Scar (Costa Family)

With that, she was walking off, leaving me alone with Ezmeray.

“She’s going to be a handful,” Ezzy said, shaking her head.

“Yeah, seems like it,” I agreed.

“That guy…” she started.

“Cesare,” I supplied. “Don’t worry. He won’t go there. She’s got a lot of fucking spirit in her, but she’s still a kid.”

“You’re sure my mom is safe?” she asked, her lower lip starting to tremble as the adrenaline started to drain.

“Positive,” I said, nodding. “As soon as we figure out where to do it, I will have her moved somewhere for you guys to have a reunion.”

“I didn’t even see her in the apartment,” Ezzy said.

“Babe, I missed her too,” I admitted, shaking my head. “Cesare found her. She was behind the bed.”

“That pawnshop guy said he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her.”

That would maybe take an hour off of his torture. Maybe.

“But then again, when I came in, he had my sister bound and gagged on the bed and was inching up her skirt.”

Yeah, nope. I wasn’t taking a single second of pain off the table for him. In fact, I was going to add a couple hours for that shit.

“We got him, don’t worry,” I assured her. “And Deniz,” I added. “They won’t be a problem again.”

“I guess neither will Berat,” she said, wincing, then automatically starting to turn toward his body.

“Don’t,” I said, snagging her chin, and turning it back. “You did what you had to do.”

“That’s not it,” she said, head ducking, her forehead pressing into my chest.

“No?” I asked, hand cupping the back of her neck. “What is it then?”

“Some part of me… really enjoyed that,” she admitted, voice small, like I would judge her for it.

Me.

Of all people.

“Good,” I said, shrugging.

“Good? In what world is that good?”

“In the same world where he was spying on you in your own home,” I said, looking past her to the monitors.

“Oh, God,” she hissed, letting out a whimpering noise. “The cameras. In the bedroom. And the shower,” she said, voice losing that sad edge, sharpening up with rage once again.

“Starting to wish you’d kept him alive to drag out the pain for longer, aren’t you?” I asked, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“I think I am starting to understand how you can enjoy torture,” she admitted. “Is Deniz dead?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I answered honestly. “I have to have a talk with him first.”

“A talk,” she repeated, tipping her head back so that she could stay close, but keep eye contact.

“Yeah, a talk. We need to figure out everything there is to know about their organization. Allies. Enemies. Plans they had.”

“And then?” she prompted.

“And then,” I said, nodding. Because we both knew what came after all that talking.

“It’s all over then,” she said, looking a little dazed, disbelieving.

“Yeah, babe. You’re free. And pretty rich,” I added, watching as surprise and relief and a hint of amusement played across her perfect face.

“I’m afraid there will need to be a lot of… cleaning,” she said, emphasizing the word, “to do here before we can get back to the renovations on this restaurant.”

“You kidding? Best time to kill someone is during the renovation process,” I told her. “Word on the street, that’s where Hoffa is. Buried under a stadium in Jersey. No one would know. And even if, some day, they did figure it out, we’d all be long dead by then.”

“I guess that is comforting. Sort of.”

“You okay?” I asked, both my hands moving to frame her face.

“Somehow,” she said, shaking her head, “I am. I feel like I shouldn’t be, but I am.”

“You might not be later, but either way, I’m here,” I told her.

“Can I ask you something completely inappropriate?”

“Yep.”

“Just yep? What if it is ridiculous?”

“Still yep.”

“How old were you when you killed for the first time?”

“Fifteen.”

“Fifteen,” she repeated, brows raising. But instead of shock or disgust, she let out a strange laugh. “So what you’re saying is that I am a late bloomer in the killing department.”

“Pretty much,” I agreed. “And it looks like little sis is on track to have her first body or two in the next year,” I added, earning a slap to the chest.

“Only if you hurt me,” she said, shaking her head.

“That’s not happening,” I insisted, hoping she understood my meaning. Not just that I wouldn’t hit her. But that I would do everything in my power never to hurt her at all, period.

“So, now that I’m a fully free woman…” she said.

“I should take you on a proper date,” I said.

“Early dinner followed by a little light torture?” she asked, shooting me a big smile.

“Hey, whatever my girl wants, my girl gets,” I said, pulling her in, and pressing my lips to hers.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to turn from something soft and sweet to something much more heated.