Chapter 7

VALERIO

S he was wild, a storm barely contained in that lithe, leonine body.

Trouble wrapped in temptation.

From the moment we met years ago, I had a strong sense that she was the kind of woman who left a significant impression and could damage a soul to its core.

Still, I’d pursued her for weeks now, planning every move.

The encounter at the bar was no coincidence after having studied her habits for some time now.

My eyes had locked on her the second she entered.

She’d sat, her tawny hair falling over her shoulders, spilling over her lean, lithe upper arms, making me want to stroke, touch, pull it.

Her lips parted just enough to have me wondering what it would feel like to glide mine over hers.

After our eye lock, walking up to her had been inevitable.

As had that first kiss. Unexpected—a flash of heat that left me wanting more.

Her unbidden, wild orgasm had rocked me to the core. Wanting more.

However, engaging with Chiara on a personal level came with strings attached, complications I didn’t need. I had my life in order, everything in its place.

She was chaos. Beautiful, reckless chaos.

Feeling stirred inside me when her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her glass in the bar.

That pull, that magnetic force that drove me to want to get closer despite every warning bell in my head.

When her eyes flicked up, meeting mine, I sucked my teeth, fighting the attraction.

The way she studied me like I was the devil she dared to tempt—made my chest tighten.

Damn, I should have stayed at my table. Not approached, kept my distance.

I should have found another way of getting to the Tirone family.

But there was no going back now.

She was luring me in, pulling me deeper into her essence, and a portion of me didn’t even want to resist.

But I knew better. I wasn’t naive.

A woman like her came with a price—a steep one.

The question gnawed at me: Was I willing to pay it?

Was I prepared to lose command, to let her drag me into whatever storm was swirling in her life?

Every logical part of me said no.

I had many reasons to walk. I could not afford to get close to her nor surrender my dominance of myself in the process.

Not now, because I was fuckin’ tired. Of the grief, the waiting, the wild thirst for revenge.

When she leaned forward, her lips curling into that damn smile that induced a high pulse, I felt the ground shift beneath me.

She wasn’t even trying, yet she had me teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

I tagged it in her eyes—the mess, the wildness, the trouble she carried like a weight on her shoulders.

But below that, a siren call made me want to peel back those layers and understand her in a way no one else did.

I walked through the streets that night, hands deep in my pockets, clenching my jaw as I tried to think straight.

She was a doubtful outcome for me at this crucial juncture of my mission.

Yet, I would not stay away. I didn’t want to keep away.

She was a challenge, but my past was full of them.

Hell, maybe I was as reckless as she was.

Perhaps, in my innermost being, I craved the trouble she brought.

I wanted to see how much I handled before I broke.

I was pushing the envelope on my neverending need for control.

But was it worth the risk?

Conceivably, I was past the point of no return. Likely, she’d already snagged me.

That was it. Decision made.

Whatever price came with her, I was willing to pay it.

The following day, I found myself in my late model Range, idling a few cars from her front door.

I observed her slip from her house dressed in her running gear.

Sliding out from behind my steering wheel, I came up behind her, strolling as she took off, not having spotted me.

I was wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, and athletic gear. Blending in like a local, I crossed the road and hung back to keep her from becoming suspicious.

If she glanced my way, I’d slide into a side street, change out my two-toned jacket, and flip my hat inside out, changing my appearance to avoid triggering her senses.

I kept pace with her stroll, trailing her, appreciating Chiara’s morning vibe in cute active-wear shorts, a cut-off top, and headgear.

The ocean beyond was stunning, framing the woman before me and producing an even more beguiling vision.

Damn, she was alluring.

I gritted my teeth as I crossed roads and followed her to the park, where she took to jogging the circuit three times before making her way home.

I stood in the trees, leaning back, arms interlocked over my chest, assessing, thinking, working through my doubts, and tamping down my desire to abandon all caution.

Still, it was not a bad way to spend a morning.

I was getting a handle on her routine, prepping for the work I anticipated was coming.

My surveillance of her had picked up on other shady interests in her.

I had no plans to let some other shifty mob crew get to her first, so I provided Chiara with security cover sans her knowledge.

I had high wagers on keeping her safe and enacting my plan for the Tirones.

She made her way back, chatting with neighbors, patting dogs, and doing everything to mesmerize me.

Her gaze swept the street at her front door, almost tagging me as if sensing me.

I eased into a bush until she exhaled and pushed into her house.

Relieved, I slid back into my SUV and waited till she emerged dressed for the day.

In stiletto heels, a polka-dotted skirt, and a stunning orange tee that complimented her gorgeous curves.

She slipped on sunglasses, and after a glance up and down the street, she slid behind the wheel of a silver-gray vintage sports coupe, Lancia Zagato, circa 1962.

I nodded my approval for the classic sports vehicle, a collector’s choice with its comfortable, fast, lightweight, and sleek design.

She drove off blissfully unaware of my presence, and I smirked.

I shadowed her to a swanky mall as she shopped, flirted with the shopkeepers, and emerged with packages in tow.

At one point, she paused and pretended to look in a window display, but I disappeared into obscurity, ducking into a menswear shop across from her.

Chiara still had a concerned look, so I followed the slant of her gaze.

She was attempting to out a tail.

I was deep in the shadows, but someone else was not.

I snagged the not-so-furtive sidle of a man across the walkway from her and froze.

She caught him in the window’s reflection and hurried back to her car.

I pursued, sucking my teeth, needing to wade in.

He hastened to keep up with her until I interrupted his run.

With a punishing grip, I pushed him into an alleyway.

Seconds later, he was out cold, crumpled on the ground.

I searched his pockets, found a phone, and pushed it into my pants for later perusal.

Also, a convenient excuse to have him tag his misfortune as a robbery.

After dragging him into a corner, I found an empty Chianti bottle in a rubbish bin and placed it in his hands.

Smirking, I lit out, heading after Chiara.

Shit was heating up.