Ruthless Heart

LILY

The blindfold liftsfrom my eyes, and I blink, adjusting to the light. I’m in a dim storeroom, surrounded by crates of beer and booze, and—

Him.

My heart stops. He’s dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans, the cuffs rolled up over muscular forearms, but there’s nothing casual about his presence: His broad, looming body radiates tightly wound tension. Danger. He’s unshaven, his hair is tousled, and his eyes are full of contempt as he looks down at me, bound here at his mercy.

I feel an involuntary shudder, at the awesome strength of masculinity on show. This is not a man to be charmed or reasoned with.

This is a man who rules with an iron fist.

And Lord, is he sexy as hell.

“Well, what do we have here?” Nero drawls, sauntering closer. The light catches on his shoulders, broad and thick.

I force myself not to show fear. “Nero,” I say casually, like I’m bored with all of this. “You took your time. Busy day at the office?”

I catch a flash of a smile, but just as fast, Nero wipes it off his face. His eyes bore into me, steely.

“Careful, princess. You’re not in Vegas anymore.”

“Clearly,” I shoot back. “Although I could use a breakfast buffet right about now. You haven’t learned the art of hospitality, I see.”

“Oh, I’ve learned plenty since you saw me last,” Nero drawls. “Would you like to find out?”

His gaze trails slowly over every inch of my body, and I swear my thighs clench just remembering his touch. The things he could do to me.

The pleasure he unlocked.

I was sixteen when Nero Barretti took my virginity, and damn him, no man has ever compared.

I swallow hard, fighting the sweaty, sensual memories. That was a lifetime ago. And both Nero and I are different people now.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” I reply, keeping my voice cool. “I doubt I’d be impressed, either way.”

Nero narrows his eyes at me. “Enough small talk, princess. There’s only one reason why you’re still alive right now. Where’s your father?” he demands.

“58 Arbor Way, Chesterfield,” I reply immediately. “A little town outside St. Louis.”

Nero looks surprised thatI would give him up so easily. But what’s the use in hiding the truth?

It can’t hurt him now.

“Plot eighty-three-five,” I continue. “Near the oak tree. He’s been rotting there for seven years now, but your minions can dig him up to make sure.”

“He’s dead? I don’t believe you.” Nero looks thrown.

I glare at him, feeling the old sting of grief. “If it makes you feel any better, he went slowly. It wasn’t pretty, in the end.”

Nero pauses. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, like he means it, too.

I snort. “Sorry that you don’t get to make a big splash killing him yourself, I’m sure. That’s what you want us for, isn’t it? To send a message, about the big bad Barretti family who always pay their debts. You might want to watch Game of Thrones,” I add, unable to help myself. “Didn’t work out too well for the Lannisters, and it might not work out for you.”

“Is that a threat?” Nero’s voice drops. Chillingly calm.

I shiver. “No. Not from me. But guys in your line of work don’t last too long. They either wind up dead or in jail.”

“And whose fault is that?”