Page 51 of Love Me (Touch of Death 3)
“Your sister has been dead over a week,” he says, and it’s like a knife burying itself between my ribs.
A whole week without her. In some ways, it feels so much longer as though I’ve been suffering for years, and in other ways, it feels like the blink of an eye as though it were only yesterday that I was talking to her.
“Her assets should have legally passed to you.”
I frown, and a snort slips from my throat. “You murdered her. In suspicious circumstances, I think you’ll find it takes a long time to settle a will.”
His jaw clenches, a breath hissing from him. “You’re the executor, are you not?”
“No.”
“Then who is?”
“Lorenzo.” He taps his foot over the ground. “What is it you want, Enrique?”
“The Ricci business, of course.”
“Well, you can’t have it. I’ll die before I let you kill my sister and take what was hers.”
He steps farther into the room. “Oh, but you will inherit it, and what’s yours is mine, dear wife.”
“Only if I allow you to have it.”
A menacing grin covers his face. “I could always just kill you. You have no family left…except for your husband.”
I can’t help but smile because he thinks he’s so clever. “Actually, in the event of my death, everything passes to Lorenzo.” I push off the bed and walk towards him, my bare feet padding over the thick rug. “Either way, you lose, Enrique.”
I can almost see him bubbling over, tipping over the edge. His fists clench, muscles twitching with the urge to no doubt lash out and hurt me. Instead, he closes the small distance between us, his chest bumping mine. The woodsy scent of his cologne greets me—a smell that now makes my stomach turn. It’s the smell of death and sadness and pain.
“Una Ivanov is coming for me, and she’s coming for you. You once said we could be powerful together. If we do not show that power, then she will destroy us both.”
I meet his nearly black eyes. “I did say that once.” I lean in closer, until my lips are only inches from his neck. “Before you killed Gabi. Now…” I pull back, sneering at him. “I’ll die happily as long as she takes you down, too.”
The ticcing in his jaw becomes more erratic, and he inhales a deep breath. He’s trying to remain calm, but I see in his eyes how much he wants to hurt me, like a child who isn’t getting his way. He wants to smash and break and scream.
He removes a phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “Call Lorenzo. Tell him you want to allow my men use of Milazzo port.”
“And why would I do that?”
His grip on the phone tightens, turning his knuckles white. “Half your sister’s clients have already come to me. The Ricci name is dying, Adelina. We can be the start of a new legacy—t he Ricci-Bianchi empire. The Bianchi family is powerful, you know this. I can protect you from Una’s wrath, principessa. Or, I can let her have you. If we aren’t allies, we’re enemies. Either way, I will thrive, with or without your help. I always do.”
For once, I don’t feel helpless. I have the upper hand here because I know what he doesn’t. Sasha is alive, and it’s not me that Una is coming for. I won’t help him, though, because I will help Una. Taking his shipments is just the first step, and Enrique knows it every bit as much as I do. Without supply, you cannot meet demand, and customers are fickle. They will go elsewhere if they can’t get their guns and drugs. Enrique’s issues are not theirs, after all, and these men are unscrupulous. I won’t help him get those shipments. I’ll watch him crumble.
“Like I said, I’ll die happily as long as she takes you down.” I barely finish the sentence before the back of his hand meets my face so hard that I hit the ground, my palms colliding with the thick rug. The metallic tang of blood explodes on my tongue, and I laugh, the sound maniacal, even to my own ears. I laugh and laugh as I look up at him. “You’re fucked!”
His features darken, his body physically trembling. This is the moment he realizes, he played his trump card too soon. In killing Gabi, he’s fucked himself over because there are no more bargaining chips. He killed her to spite me, like the spoiled brat he is, and now everything he holds so dear is going to burn around him. I’m ready to dance in the flames.
He swings for me, his closed fist colliding with my jaw hard enough that I hear something crack. Then he kicks me, his foot meeting my already fragile ribs. The pain is excruciating, and my vision blacks out for a moment as my lungs are suddenly incapacitated. By the time I manage to drag in a trickle of air again, Enrique is gone.
