Page 86 of When She Unravels
Foreboding slithers down my spine.
“You can go through the Americans,” he says while my pulse grows louder in my ears. “Ask them for a few shipments to tide you over. They’ll agree because you have something they want.”
“Valentina,” Ras says.
Her name feels all wrong coming out of his mouth. How am I supposed to trade the entirety of her away when I don’t even like hearing anyone but me utter her name?
But I can’t find a flaw in Napoletano’s suggestion. It works, and it’s clean. Sending her to her father will get me what I need to checkmate Sal, and once I’m don, I’ll have a multitude of ways to make Garzolo pay for what he did to Martina.
It’s a clear path to everything I’ve ever wanted.
Nearly everything.
I rise from my seat. “If her father wants her back, he’ll find a way to get us everything we need.”
* * *
From the moment I discovered who Ale Romero really was, I knew there was a good chance I’d have to use her as leverage, and yet that knowledge does nothing to ease the weight I feel as I leave my office.
It’s the perfect plan. So simple that on paper it seems nearly too easy, but somehow, it feels like the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
My feet carry me to Valentina’s room. I don’t know why I’m going to her. I doubt that sharing the news I intend to break my promise is going to soften the blow, but for some reason, I want to anyway. We’ve spent the entire time we’ve known each other lying to one another. The truth won’t be sweet, but at least it’ll be real.
I take the key to her room out of my pocket and insert it into the lock. She’ll cry when I tell her what I plan to do to her.Cazzo. Her tears make me feel like the world’s most wretched man.
When I step inside, she’s not there. The shower is running in the bathroom, and steam is slowly seeping from beneath the door. I walk over to the window she hates so much. There are a few sailboats on the water, but there’s barely any wind, and they’re moving slowly. I watch them sail for a long while, and still, the shower runs. What is she doing in there?
Another few minutes pass, and I decide to check on her. For all I know, she’s trying to drown herself. The thought propels me into the bathroom.
I see her silhouette through the matted glass and move closer.
Ah, there she is.
My mouth goes dry when I realize what she’s doing.
She’s pressed against one of the shower’s walls, her legs spread wide, one hand on the safety bar, and the other holding the showerhead to her pussy. Her eyes are squeezed shut. I watch as her lips part on a moan that gets swallowed up by the sound of the running water.
Every drop of blood inside my body rushes to my cock. I feel light-headed. It has nothing to do with the oppressive heat inside this tiny room, and everything to do with her. Her abdomen contracts, and she claws at the wall as her orgasm nears.
When her mouth moves, I can’t hear her, but I read her lips.
It’s my name she moans.
An inhuman growl tears its way up my throat. I’ve never wanted a woman more in my entire godforsaken life.
She hears it. Her eyes spring open, and she registers me standing right there. I try to breathe, but I can’t. It’s like the last bit of oxygen inside the room has disappeared.
Instead of stopping, she drops her head back and finishes herself off before me, her hooded gaze steady on me.
“Merda,” I breathe.
She trembles against the wall while I try to get my fingers to properly work. I’ve never hated button-up shirts before, but I do right now.
My eyes are greedy. They trail over her heavy breasts, the dip of her waist, the thickness of her thighs…Fuck me.
“Why are you here?” she mouths.
I drop my shirt on the floor and unbuckle my belt.
