Page 27 of Great White
“You don’t have to worry about me and loose ends. I’m very thorough,” she hums seductively.
“I’m sure you are. So, the threat is gone?”
“For now.” Her irregularly light mood vanishes.
“How long have Stefania and Marco been seeing each other?”
Dove sighs. “Since they were like fifteen.”
“Fifteen?”
“On and off. First love turned into forever love according to Stefania. But their parents' feud ripped them apart. And when the Rayas cartel killed her family, any hope of a relationship died with them. I thought it ended. At least, she told me it did, until recently. I don’t think she’ll ever be able to let him go. And vice versa. But if Raffi finds out . . .”
“There will be another war?”
“An assassination, at the very least.” Dove picks up the bottle of tequila and swallows the clear liquid down. Then she offers some to me. I’m quick to accept. I get out of my chair and move around the desk, leaning on its edge right next to her.
I mimic her motion, drinking down the smooth, earthy elixir, not realizing how much I needed a drink until that very moment.
“It has enraged Raffi that Stefania resurrected the Deltoros. He meant to end the family and the organization, but he underestimated Stefania. They were together the night her family was killed. Marco essentially saved her life, unbeknownst to his father.”
“That’s a tangled-ass web.”
“Tangled and terrifying.”
“You know what else is terrifying? You leaving, and me not knowing if you’re coming back.”
“Seriously,Guapo? Do damsels in distress make you hard up? Do you have some kind of savior complex?”
“No.” I pause. “Not that I know of. I’m just a fan.”
“Of what?”
“Not what. Who. You.”
“Why? There’s tons of girls walking around out there way easier to get your hands on than me.”
“I don’t want any of those girls.”
“You don’t want me either, trust me.”
“Why can’t I be the judge of that?”
Dove expels a long, hard breath. She looks wiped. I know tonight wasn’t easy on her. This life is taxing no matter who you are. No matter how tough, or strong, or resilient, the key to success is the relationships you keep and the fragile trust they’re built on.
“Because I don’t want you.”
That truth is razorblades to swallow.
I want to argue with her. Tell her she’s wrong because I know she is. She’s lying to me and herself. But the fact is, I’m not convinced how she feels. Whether she is just burying our attraction, or if she honest to God doesn't want me. My gut tells me the latter isn’t true, butTiburonacan be hard to read. And her eyes. They’re as cold and black as a shark’s right now. Bone chilling.
“Fine. I hear you.” I back off.
“Good. It’s better this way. For everyone.” Dove takes another sip of tequila and goes back to counting the cash in front of her. “Shut the door on your way out.”
It feels like I’ve been stabbed in the gut.
I know I may not be marriage material, but damn, don’t count me out before the race has even begun.
