Page 29 of Bound in Vengeance
The same man I shouldn’t keep running into. The same man I can’t seem to ignore.
My gaze rakes over Alessandro despite myself. He’s so attractive, it’s unfair. Very unfair. He’s dressed in black pants and a grey dress shirt. He would look elegant, but the buttons of the shirt are halfway opened, displaying a muscular chest with a hint of tattoos. His sleeves are rolled up his forearms, and even from a distance, I can see the sexy litter of veins, and even more tattoos.
Alessandro says something low to the man. He nods too quickly, like he’s agreeing just to survive the conversation.
And then, just like that, they both turn and they’re heading for the stairs.
Without thinking, I move.
“May,” I say quickly, lifting the phone again. “I’ll call you back.”
“What? Sienna?—”
“I’ll call you back,” I repeat, already ending the call.
I follow, ensuring I stay very hidden.
Thankfully it’s only one floor down. I stay a few steps behind, keeping my distance, watching them descend to the lower level. The parking garage.
The air changes the moment I reach the bottom of the stairs. I slow immediately, pressing myself slightly out of sight near a concrete pillar.
Alessandro instantly turns to the man, his face a picture of rage. I stay hidden. Just far enough to see. Close enough to hear.
“What did you tell Luca?” Alessandro’s voice cuts through the space
The man stumbles over his words immediately. “I—I didn’t—nothing serious, I swear?—”
Alessandro steps closer.
The man steps back.
“Try again,” Alessandro says.
Something in his tone makes my stomach tighten.
The man swallows hard. “He asked about the Kuznetsov connection. I told him what I knew—what everyone knows?—”
Alessandro tilts his head slightly.
“And?”
The man hesitates.
That hesitation costs him.
Alessandro moves, brutally kicking the man. A dull impact echoes through the garage. The man stumbles sideways, catching himself against a parked car.
My breath catches before I can stop it.
I shouldn’t be watching. He already warned me about spying on him days ago. But I can’t tear my eyes away.
“Wrong answer,” Alessandro says quietly.
The man raises his hands defensively. “I’m telling you, I don’t know anything else—please!”
Another hit. Harder this time and the sound echoes off concrete.
I flinch before I can stop myself, fingers tightening around the edge of the pillar.
