Third Comes Vengeance (Promised in Blood, #3)

“You’re still playing doctor, aren’t you?” she asks, head pillowed on a sofa cushion as I cover the cuts with gauze.

A smile spreads over my face. “I am. This is how I play doctor. I cut you and bleed you, and then I’m so fucking nice to you when I clean you up after.”

“Will I have scars?”

“Not if you do as you’re told and keep these covered.” I want to watch these cuts heal day by day until her skin is perfect once more thanks to my attention. Then, I want to pick up my scalpel and cut her all over again.

When I’m finished, Chiara turns to me and takes my face in her hands. “Look at you. You’re happy, aren’t you?”

I brush my lips over hers. “Who, me?”

“Competition. Machiavellian schemes. Sex. Blood. These are the things that make my Lorenzo happy.”

I smile and cup the bandage on her thigh. “And what makes my princess happy?”

She traces my lips with her fingers. “You do.”

I gather her closer and lift her up in my arms. Upstairs in my room, I check my phone as I take off my clothes. “Missed calls from Cassius. About a dozen text messages, too.”

Chiara gets beneath the blankets and rests her head on my pillow, her expression sweet and trusting despite all the shit I do to her. “Asking why he can’t get in?”

“Maybe.” I throw my phone aside with a grin and turn back to her.

“Are you going to let him in?”

“Hell, no. I’m not done with you, princess. Now come here.”





10





Chiara





After three days of having sex with Lorenzo at all hours of the day and night, I’ve had more orgasms than I can count and I’m absolutely famished. I don’t know where he’s found the strength to keep going because he’s been existing on nothing but black coffee and sex. I sit up carefully in bed and glance over. Lorenzo’s head is on the pillow and his eyes are closed in blissful sleep. He should be pale and fatigued the way he’s been carrying on, but he’s glowing. I guess a sex diet agrees with him.

My stomach gurgles. Not me. Sex is great but I need food.

As I ease myself out of bed, a strong hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me back down. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Lorenzo, I’m hungry.” I find myself laughing as he nuzzles my neck even as my stomach growls.

“I’ve got something for you,” he mumbles, pushing down the sheets and wrapping his hand around his stiff cock.

“Unless you want me to bite it off, let me go and make a sandwich.”

“If you bite my dick, I’ll spank your pussy until you come all over my fingers,” he threatens with a growl, getting an arm around my hips and pushing my legs open. “Now hold still, I want to make sure you’re good and pregnant.”

“What if I am pregnant? Shouldn’t I eat?”

His eyes open and he frowns. “You’re right. Go eat something, and then we’ll go again.”

I kiss him and slip from the bed, pulling on my underwear and one of his T-shirts to wear as a dress.

Downstairs in the kitchen, the contents of the fridge are dismal. There’s been no fresh food restocked since Lorenzo put the place on lockdown. I hunt through the freezer and find a frozen pizza with a cartoon of an Italian chef on the box.

“Oh, Cassius would hate you,” I tell the pizza with a smile as I open the box and pre-heat the oven.

Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in the kitchen munching happily on pepperoni pizza when Cassius himself strides into the room. He glares at my bed hair, my outfit, and then at the pizza.

“What the hell is going on?” he seethes.

“I was hungry, and Lorenzo didn’t have anything else. Honestly, Cassius, it’s not that bad. You should try—”

“Not the pizza. He’s been fucking you for three days straight, hasn’t he?”

Oh yes, that. I hurriedly take another bite as an excuse not to answer.

“Scava!” he roars at the top of his voice. “Get down here, you cazzo di merda. I want a word with you.”

A few minutes later, Lorenzo appears in the doorway, dressed in jeans, a cocky smirk, and nothing else. “Cassius, how have you been? We’ve missed you.”

Cassius lets forth a stream of angry Italian.

Lorenzo’s eyes widen in amusement. “Now, come on, you know I never learned Italian. What’s he saying, princess?”

I will cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat, you asshole. How dare you lock Chiara away from the rest of us? Don’t you fucking smirk at me.

“Uh, he says hi.” I take another bite of pizza.

Cassius goes on ranting until Lorenzo finally loses his patience. “For fuck’s sake! If there’s some rule I’ve broken, then tell me what it is. Did we set any fucking rules? Did I bitch about the three of you showing up at my house at all hours of the night to screw our girlfriend? No, I let you all get on with it.”

“We never locked Chiara up so you couldn’t reach her,” Cassius snarls. “Bambina, pack a bag. We’re going to my penthouse.”

Lorenzo doesn’t break eye contact with Cassius. “Princess, don’t fucking move.”

I’m not going anywhere. I’m having my lunch.

“Cassius, Chiara is safer here. The gates are open to you and you can see her as much as you want now. Knock yourself out.” Lorenzo says this as if he really would like to knock the bigger man unconscious.

Cassius’ eyes narrow. “Why did you lock Chiara up for these three days? What’s special about these three days?”

Lorenzo grins and rubs his hand over his jaw. “I was tracking Chiara’s cycle and taking her temperature, which any of you could have done if you’d thought of it.”

“You didn’t think to share this information with the rest of us?”

“Fuck, no. I want her carrying my baby.”

I wince and take another bite of pizza, wondering if I should call Vinicius. He’s so good at diffusing arguments. I’m surprised that Salvatore hasn’t shown up yet, shouting his head off. Please, God, don’t let Salvatore turn up right now or hands will be thrown.

Cassius is ranting in Italian again, and I put my lunch down and swallow. “Cassius, we’ll set some ground rules and Lorenzo won’t do this again. I doubt it even worked. I’ll probably take a year to get pregnant.”

That seems to soothe Cassius’ temper. He takes a deep breath and comes over to me and kisses my forehead. “Damn right he won’t do it again.” Then he mutters at the pizza, “Disgustoso.”

I grin and take another bite.

Lorenzo pats Cassius’ shoulder as he moves toward the coffee machine. “Now we’ve dealt with that, how would you like a cup of coffee, you bad-tempered fuck?”

“Grazie,” Cassius murmurs. His hands slide down to my ass and he squeezes me. Then he frowns as he feels the edge of the bandage. “Are you hurt? How did you get hurt?”

I dart a look at Lorenzo and look away again quickly. Somehow, I don’t think Cassius will take Lorenzo cutting me with a scalpel in his stride right now. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”

“Why are you blushing?”

“I’m not.”

“Honestly, princess, could you look more guilty?” Lorenzo says as he adds coffee grounds to the machine.

“Do you know what’s going on here, Scava?” Cassius asks him.

“Of course.”

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