The Tyrant (Banker 3)

Instead of telling him to get back into bed, I let him be. I enjoyed taking care of him every day, nursing him back to health so he would be strong once again. He hated being so dependent on another person, thinking he looked weak in my eyes. So I let him have this moment—a moment of triumph. “You look good.” I came up behind him and ran my hand down his back.

“Thanks, baby. Clothes are a little loose, but I’ll make them fit again soon enough.”

“Let’s take it easy, alright? No need to rush.” I moved in front of him and placed my hands around his wrists, careful not to touch his core in case his ribs still hurt.

The blood lust slowly faded from his eyes as the affection took over. “I can’t wait to make love to you.”

“Neither can I…”

He grabbed my chin and lifted my head so he could kiss me on the mouth. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” My hands slid up his arms, feeling the muscles that still thrived.

He sucked my bottom lip before he spoke again. “Don’t go back on birth control. I want to make another baby with you.”

“You’re being serious?” I wasn’t sure if that was just sexy talk, stuff he blurted out in the moment.

“Dead serious.”

“Maybe we should—”

“You want more babies, right?”

“Well, yeah. But I just gave birth to Martina a few months ago…”

“I’m ready whenever you are. If you want to wait, I understand. Think it over.” He kissed the corner of my mouth before he turned away and walked out of the room.

I watched him go, wondering if he thought about the obvious thing he never addressed. Martina had been an accident, the product of our insatiable lust and affection. But this baby would be planned, another addition to our family. If that was the case, shouldn’t we be married first?

Did he want to marry me?

17

Cato

We congregated in the office, and Siena and Bates wore earpieces so they could hear the conversation with perfect clarity.

I sat near the window and made the call, truly feeling like myself for the first time in six long weeks. I helped Bates with the business, but he did all the heavy lifting without me. All I could do was handle emails in bed and take care of a few phone calls. But I was always in bed, always incapacitated.

But now I was back in the game.

The line kept ringing.

By the fourth ring, Micah answered. But he answered with his silence, probably because he was too afraid to speak first.

I certainly wasn’t. “You’ve been in that rathole for a long time. You must like it down there.”

He kept his tone cool like mine, like we weren’t two adversaries who wanted to kill one another. “You get used to it. As long as there’s booze and pussy, it feels like home. Isn’t that all a man really wants?”

“And freedom,” I jabbed.

Micah didn’t have anything to say to that.

“Bates and I decided how we’re going to end this war for good. But then my lovely lady made a very good point. So I’m going to extend some charity to you—man-to-man.”

“It took you six weeks to decide?” he asked. “Or it took you six weeks to get out of bed after what Damien did you?”

My blood boiled immediately, and all my old wounds suddenly felt fresh. It would be easy for me to snap and dig into this guy, but the second I lost my temper was the second he won the argument. I couldn’t let that happen. I swallowed my rage and kept my tone exactly the same. “It took me six weeks to pick my fantasy—of how I’m going to kill you.”

“That hammer must have hurt when it broke each of your ribs.”

He tried to change the subject, but I wouldn’t let him. “We’re prepared to enter your building and drill through the hatch. Once we make a hole large enough in diameter, we’ll drop bombs and poison. You don’t have a filtration system down there, so the toxins will be trapped with you. If the bombs and the fire don’t get you, the poison will slowly kill you. It’ll make you bleed from every hole until you go into cardiac arrest.” I paused for effect. “The hammer doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

Micah kept his calm even though that threat must have unnerved him. “You’ll never be able to drill through the hatch. There’s no machinery capable of it in Italy.”

“No, not in Italy,” I said in agreement. “But the Beck brothers are clients of mine—and they’ve agreed to let me borrow their biggest drill. He’s assured me it’ll do the job. The Skull Kings have also agreed to demolish your building so we can get the drill in place. You know there will be no repercussions from law enforcement or the government.”