Chapter 98

My suspicious brain immediately jumps to the worst kind of conclusions and I pale … blood running icy
cold through my veins as my breathing labours.

The thought that maybe he wants me to finish the job I didn’t do very well last time I put a gun to my
head flits through my mind. Maybe he’s arming me so next time I can just do it somewhere alone where
he won’t have to sit and watch or feel obliged to intervene.

I try to pull my head out of the gutter, but my trembling hands and light head are hitting me with all sorts
of warnings. Alexi doesn’t seem fazed at all.

‘It’s for you, take it. I need to show you how to handle it.’ He just carries on as though he’s oblivious to
my complete freak-out.

‘I don’t want it!’ It’s out as fast as a lightning bolt, panic hitting hard, and no matter what he has going
on in that clever head I am avoiding it at all costs.

‘I don’t care. I need you to carry one from now on. I need you to be comfortable handling it.’ He holds it
at breast level trying to get me to take it by holding it practically against me and when I don’t, he grabs
my hand and lifts it before depositing it forcefully in my palm.

‘No touching,’ I snap at him, anger overtaking fear and slap the gun in his chest to hand it back.
Snapping stupidly, but I am terrified of this beast.

‘Stop being fucking stupid then,’ he snaps right back at me, grabbing it from me and repeats that same
forceful movement. Giving me no choice in this and makes me hold this infernal hunk of metal against
my wishes.

I knew it wouldn’t take long for the prick to break the hands-off rule and I should use his bloody gun to
bitch slap him in the face.



‘Fine!’ I snap yanking it from his grasp, if only to stop his handsy behaviour, and hold it by the trigger
with my thumb and forefinger so it dangles below my hand like a dirty rag. Making a show of
disobedience and not really wanting to hold another gun in my life, ever again. I am still traumatised
from the last time and it’s no better than holding a severed head; I am not about to start Lara Crofting it
in the office because he has lost his god damn mind.

He erupts at me, disintegrating his last threads of held temper.

‘Jesus Christ! I am trying to protect you Cam, for once stop being a pain in the fucking ass and let me
do that. You’re my business partner now, not my hostess and that makes you a target more so than
before. I need you to be able to protect yourself in case anything like before happens again. It was a
close call and one where we’re lucky I intervened when I did!’ He is losing his shit with me, yelling and I
just shake my head at him, spitting nails and venom all in one go. My self-defence system has kicked in
and it’s overflowing with defiance and hostility, my body pulsating with energy and ready to ram it down
his throat if he keeps pushing.

‘Don’t fucking talk to me like that. I don’t need to put up with your shit this time and I won’t have you
yelling at me or man-handling me like a bloody doll.’ I drop it on the table dramatically, so it thuds and
gouges the expensive wooden surface cruelly. I turn to march away, but he yanks me back by the
upper arm, almost knocking me into the seat behind with the force, and lets me go instantly when I turn
in full fury at him lashing out with well-aimed slaps at those hands.

‘What part of NO fucking touching, do you not get?’ I yell louder than he can, and this time he stops,
grits his teeth and silently and murderously stares me down. Unmoving and it’s obvious he is probably
envisioning choking me to death over his newly scratched walnut desk. Both of us stiff and facing each
other aggressively.

‘Look!!’ It’s that insane psycho tone through clenched teeth and I cross my arms over my chest in a
show of indifference. Alexi takes a long slow and deliberate inhale, I guess trying to simmer that



infamous temper he has going on and moves a little agitatedly; Flexing his shoulders, unclenching
teeth and staring to his left for a moment to reel in his thoughts and fire. I can physically see him putting
one hundred and ten percent effort into not turning prick on my ass and it’s pretty weird to feel in
control this way.

I can see why he likes it. I get a little buzz.

The Alexi from before would have tied me to his desk by now and reduced me to quivering tears while
he watched in evil satisfaction. He seems to be really trying hard not to repeat previous performances
and it boosts my sense of confidence around him. Whatever I missed in four months, it’s obvious, Alexi
has told himself that he can’t repeat what he did to me before. His club depends on me being here, and
he is aware that treating me differently is a must.

He takes another calming breath and turns back to me, those grey eyes stormier than hell because he
is obviously furious, and this time with a more even tone starts again. Controlling himself amazingly
well, considering.

‘I need you to be compliant and just not make this a fight. I am trying to do what’s best for you, so you
can return to this life without a cloud of threat.’ He sounds reasonable, but the grit in the look tells me
he is still simmering and on the verge of snapping. His words, however, make my stomach flip over with
the realisation that Santagato may still be a real danger.

‘You really think someone will try to get at me again?’ This thought hadn’t crossed my mind in coming
back here but I guess it’s plausible. Santagato is still out there, and if I am back and someone
important once more, then maybe Alexi is right. Having something like this on me should I ever find
myself in that situation again would level my chances of getting out alive. I hesitate and eyes flicker to
the gun as he picks it up again—brain torn in two as I internally battle being okay with this. Forcing
down the urge to reject and try to cool my impulsive temper.



Small and compact, it looks like it’s been made for a woman with a sleek designed handle with a tiny
pearl inlay on the side of it. It’s almost pretty, even for a clunking piece of metal that could destroy lives.

I shiver when he holds it up again and this time, I take it properly and carefully from his firm hand
without argument, eyes glued to the piece. Even while my heart and hands mirror one another with
quivering tremors.

‘Hold it out in front of you, point it over there. I want to see how you hold it, how you stand with it.’ Alexi
nods to the far corner of the room of the outer wall, and I turn to do as he says, breath hitching because
this makes me more nervous than I care to admit. He can surely feel me trembling with how closely he
has come to stand beside me, and for once, he isn’t the cause of my bodily reactions.

Holding it in one hand, it’s a lot lighter than Alexi’s gun and feels weirdly small and cold in my clenched
palm. A better fit than his was. Arm shaking because I am so scared of having one of these in my grasp
once more and jump when Alexi slides behind me to lean over my shoulder and see the gun from my
perspective.

I completely freeze as his body heat flows over my entire spine and his breath hits my neck. That
internal trigger of fear at a human coming in at me from behind and I stop breathing.

‘Sorry.’ Alexi clears his throat and moves back to the side of me, seemingly picking up on the change in
my body language and I blink at him in disbelief. Eyes glancing from the gun to him and back again
sheepishly; confused for a moment that he would remember, and actually care enough to move. It
knocks me off balance and I can’t stop blinking his way, unsure whether that was a genuine moment or
a calculated one and it sends my stomach into hysteria.

I shouldn’t think about it.

Let it go Camilla. This is how he always starts messing with your head. Do not care!



He angles in to extend an arm along mine so his warmth is like a second skin, and adjusts the way I
have the gun nestled in my hand, pulling it back slightly so it’s not so outstretched. I lose focus on the
death machine and become fully aware of how he is touching me and leaning against me, igniting
sensations that I am not welcoming.

He’s close enough to breathe him in and try as I might to look at the gun in my hand, I am overly aware
of him right in against me as he directs. So close his face is almost pressed to mine, and even though
he isn’t meant to be touching me, almost every part of his upper body is against me as he crouches to
my height to see the way I am holding the gun.

My traitorous body tingling, igniting and jumping between fear and excitement in complete confusion …
it’s crazily intimate even though it’s not meant to be.

Shit.

He still makes me hot and wanton.

I drop the gun in his hand and slide away as fast as I can, losing my nerve and back out of his space
quickly. Knowing when I am too close to the sun to keep flying.

‘I can’t do this right now. I umm …’

I cannot think of a decent excuse to not have him pressed against me with a gun lesson. Alexi just
regards me emotionlessly and butts in while I’m scrambling to get away.

‘I need you to be comfortable carrying this as soon as possible. Here.’ He ignores the weirdness of my
behaviour and pulls out a strange strap looking concoction of leather and metal buckles, and that’s it—I
am totally done.



‘Yeah, kinky is not on, baby. Get the fuck away from me.’ I make to leg it around his desk hurriedly, and
Alexi eyerolls dramatically.

‘Fuck sake, Cam! It’s a holster. You wear it under your dress around your hips so the gun nestles
there.’ He nods between my legs and I look down in alarm at the thigh gap I know is under there,
alarmed that people would want to put it near their intimate parts. I am not really wanting that hunk of
metal wedged in the entrance to my Vajayjay. Imagine if I tripped and fell.

Ouch!

‘I figured with the kind of clothes you wear this would be concealed and handy to reach should you ever
need it.’

That actually stops me in my tracks; the fact he thought about this. Thought about me and how I could
carry something to protect myself.

Stop caring!

‘You want me to carry that all the time?’ I don’t know what else to say, except start questioning to cover
up the emotional meltdown I seem to be having; Pissed at myself for letting him knock me off kilter over
a dumb bloody gun.

‘You were attacked right here under my nose, in my own domain—so yes, all the time.’ There’s
bitterness to his statement.

‘Are you sure I am the most stable person to hand that thing to? How do you know I won’t shoot you?’

Or myself?



It’s meant as sarcasm but comes out more genuine than I intend, emotion cracking mid-sentence, and
my eyes well up with a sudden overwhelming surge. Alexi’s face completely softens as he clicks why I
might have a real issue with this.

Finally!

‘Because you didn’t when you had the chance, and if I thought you were emotionally unstable, I
wouldn’t be doing this. I trust you.’

I almost faint at that revelation.

Now I know he is messing with my head and I shake mine at him as that moment of weakness is
pushed away by the street-smart side. The part that almost fell for his little well played move blushes in
shame as the rebel in me glares hatefully at her.

‘Sure you do. The worthless whore who would jump at the next offer and stab you in the back to get a
step up in this world,’ I spit it out, reminding him of his own words bitterly, the sound of them coming
back to haunt me and hate myself when a tear bites and fills my vision more successfully. I look away
trying to shake the memory, hating that it’s only taken him less than two days, and he is already getting
under my skin in a way I swore I would never let him again.

This was such a bad idea and I should just walk now before I get in too deep again. He’s obviously too
good at this.

‘I should never have said those things to you. It’s not what I think anymore and I apologise … Now
please, Cam … I need you to take this and let’s start again.’ He sounds soft and caring with that low
husky tone, pitched sexily for effect.

It’s the impersonal delivery of the apology that makes me glare at him. The insincerity of it and now I
know he’s only saying what he thinks I need to hear and putting no effort into it. He’s trying to rally me



into what he wants me to do and using gentle words and tender expressions instead of force. A new
tactic he’s learned in my absence no doubt.

I snatch up the gun and the holster and step away haughtily.

‘Pretty sure Mico can help. He is a proficient gun man, I hear. Thanks.’ I am not hanging around doing
this and I turn to leave with my head on distance and space and getting Alexi’s feel off of my skin. I
would rather take lessons with someone whose touch doesn’t remind me how much I miss having sex
… with him.

Urghhh!

‘Are you going to find a fight in everything I do?’ It’s almost in exasperation, his voice losing the
softness and instead he just sounds tired. Alexi the great sounds exhausted and it makes me falter as I
leg it to the door; I turn back and glance his way.

I’m not prepared for the way he’s looking at me and for a moment I feel guilty … even though I have no
reason to be. He’s eating me with his eyes, so pale and haunting under a furrowed brow that gives him
a lost wounded boy look—a look of remorse that is probably not real; and something else. A longing
that I don’t know what to place it on. Probably just for me to behave if I know him. The look spurs a
moment of unveiled honesty from me by this mouth, which sometimes acts without thought and I cringe
as it comes out.

‘I don’t trust you. I don’t want to be hurt by you again.’ It’s out breathily despite myself, and I look away
when I realise I said it out loud to the one person you should never give emotional weapons to. I may
as well throw myself out the window because I did what I swore I wouldn’t do—give him ammunition
once more.

I’m such an idiot.



 


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