Ruthless Heart

Even Nero.

I have no idea about the inner workings of the Barretti crime syndicate, but from everything I’ve seen since getting here, I know that what Nero wants must have to do with this McKenna guy—and he wants it bad. Nero Barretti wouldn’t have dressed up in a tuxedo and made the trip uptown if it wasn’t important to him.

Important enough to outweigh his thirst for vengeance against me?

There’s only one way to find out.

Leaving the bedroom, I venture out into the living area. The apartment is dark, but I can see a light coming from the kitchen area.

Nero’s standing by the glow of the open refrigerator, shirtless in a pair of grey sweatpants, drinking a glass of water.

I know looking is a bad idea, but I seem to be full of those tonight, so I let my eyes roam over his toned body, taking in the incredible sight. His chest is broader than I remember, and his abs weren’t always so well-defined—or mottled with so many tattoos. He’s pure masculine power, and my body shudders, remembering the feel of all that muscle pressed up against me earlier tonight.

But now that he’s half-naked… I want to touch the artwork, trace the lines with my fingers.

Or tongue.

“Need something, Princess?” Nero’s cutting voice jerks my gaze up to meet his face. He looks smug, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

I gulp. “I want to talk to you,” I say, holding his eyes. I feel like I’m staring down a predator, trying not to show weakness. “To come to some arrangement. I think we can help each other.”

“Can we now?” Nero’s gaze turns hotter, full of suggestion. “And how, exactly, do you plan on helping me?”

“Not like that!” I blurt, even as my taut, aching nipples inform me that yes, they would be amenable. I take another deep breath. “I know that you want something from McKenna. In order to get it, you need to get close to him. He’s not incorruptible, no one is. But you have to find a weakness, a way into his circle. And they will never let a Barretti in.”

Nero scowls. “What’s your point?”

I place the palms of my hands flat on the kitchen island and lean forward.

“I can help you. I know those people; I grew up in that world. I can get you close to McKenna. Close enough to make whatever deal you need to make.”

“And how do you propose doing that?”

Again, Nero’s face is icy. Expressionless. I press ahead.

“By posing as your fiancée. I’ll work my old social contacts and get us the invites to the right events. Showing up with me on your arm will give you a respectability you could never have alone—at least, enough to get close to McKenna.”

Nero’s eyes widen, and I take a small pleasure in knowing that I surprised him.

“You want to get engaged?” he asks.

“I want to pretend to be engaged,” I correct him. “You’ll seem like you’re more legit. The kind of guy a family man like McKenna can do business with. You’ll get whatever deal you’re after, but I want something in return.”

Nero snorts. “Of course you do.”

“I want protection for me and Teddy.” I state clearly, my heart pounding in my chest. He hasn’t shut me up, or sent me away just yet, which means this is possible. I have a chance. “I help you score this deal with McKenna, and you give me your word, the two of us will be safe. From you—and everyone in the organization.”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands, Princess.” Nero strolls closer, power coiled, like a panther ready to pounce. “In case you’ve forgotten, you owe me. A debt that can only be settled in blood.”

“My father’s betrayal was ten years ago,” I point out. “And he’s long since dead.”

“He wasn’t the only one who betrayed us,” Nero says cryptically. “A debt’s a debt.”

Fuck. I try one last time, praying with everything I have that some part of Nero is still thoughtful. The man who assessed the odds before striking.

“Are you really willing to throw away whatever it is you’ve been working for?” I challenge him. “Because if tonight proved anything, I’m your only hope. You’ll never get close to the guy again. You have no idea how that world operates. So tell me this, Nero: Do you want revenge, or do want McKenna?”

My question hangs in the air, and Nero keeps his face stoic, not giving away his thoughts one bit. It feels like an eternity as I wait for him to mull it over—my fear winding tighter in my chest with every moment, until I can hardly breathe.