He wanted me to see it firsthand.
He didn’t want to tell me that we were all villains because who would you believe? The one with the badge, or the one with the gun pointed at her head?
“Do you know what happened after?” I asked quietly. Already, I was afraid of what she would say.
“Dad said he would deal with it. But it was my kill. Mine. It was my life. Not his. So, I chopped off Jenner’s head and made a choice—to send a warning to everyone who could possibly be involved. His head was delivered to the FBI in a cake box. And since I had no way of knowing if they had any involvement, I covered my bases and sent his hand to Valerian—after all, it was at their wedding. And then I sent a foot to the Carola Cartel. And since he had one foot left, I decided that he could still walk in Hell. So, I burned it. Maksim helped me, and my dad watched in horror, knowing I’d never be the same. I tried washing the blood from my hands, but it’s still there. I still see it.” She choked on a sob. “It won’t come off. God, it won’t come off.” She shook in my arms.
I quickly turned her on my lap so her body straddled mine on the chair. She’d never been more vulnerable—or more beautiful.
“You did good, Kartini. So damn good.”
Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “You shouldn’t praise me for killing.”
“I’m not praising you for killing.” I tucked pieces of her blue hair behind her ears. “I’m praising you for surviving.”
Her blue eyes flashed, scanning mine. I didn’t know what happened next, but my hands tightened on her curvy waist as if my body, my fingers, knew how desperately I needed to keep her close.
Forever.
To protect her.
Fight beside her.
Mark her.
“Tank…” She licked her lips.
I caught her tongue with my mouth, licking the seam of her lips and pulling her hard against me as her tears fell across my cheeks and rolled down my face, colliding with our mouths.
It was a moment I would never forget.
Kissing her tears away.
Drinking in her pain.
“Never again,” I said between long, languid kisses. “You’ll never be alone again.”
“What are you saying?” Her bottom lip was swollen from my mouth, from sucking on it, from holding it where I wanted it, pinning it with my teeth, pinching it, only to suck it again.
“I’m not a knight in shining armor. I’m more villain, who’s always pretended to be the hero,” I admitted. “But now, I know who I am. Because of you.”
“And who’s that?”
“Yours…” I said. “A half-De Lange.”
She gasped.
“A made man.” Her eyes filled with more tears.
“Loyal to the Five Families.”
“And the FBI?” she asked.
I nipped at her mouth and whispered, “Let it fucking burn.”
Chapter Ten
Kartini
He didn’t judge me.
Instead, he loved me. Devoured my pain with his mouth.
De Lange.
We all knew, but for him to openly admit it—it was like watching a healing take place across his face as he finally confessed his truth.
And another De Lange orphan had joined the fold.
Had joined us.
Repenting for the sins of the father.
Earning my respect and that of the Five Families. I couldn’t be prouder or happier or more interested in ripping his clothes off.
I clawed at his naked chest, forgetting that he’d basically carried me out there in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, one wrapped around my body.
With a curse, he pulled mine loose.
I was completely bare to him—naked, needy.
His hands cupped my breasts as he flipped me onto my back. I took his towel with me.
Both of us were naked, grinding against each other as the waves crashed on the shore. And rather than wanting to get it over with, I wanted this moment to last forever.
He was mine.
He would always be mine.
His mouth pressed against my neck as he moved down to my belly button, his eyes meeting mine with wicked promises and relentless pursuit. “Still have a crush?”
My body responded as I spread my thighs. “What do you think?”
“I think I would be starving for you even if I’d never met you.” He lowered his head. “And I’m not fighting it anymore.”
“Don’t.”
“I told you, you’d be wet before the end of the night.” His laugh was dark as his eyes flashed, and then his mouth clamped down on me, his tongue darting out to find every sensitive inch that screamed for his attention.
My head rolled back and hit the soft pad of the chair as he tasted me, filling me with nothing but his tongue but making it feel like it was more than that—more than anything I’d ever had in my life.
“Don’t stop,” I begged. I never begged. This was the Tank effect.
He did stop, though, just enough to lift his cocky head, just enough to dig his fingertips into my thighs, just enough to give me a knowing smirk, his mouth glistening. “Did you just beg?”