Bought by My stepbrother, the don

Chapter 36: Cold

Carmen’s pov

His tongue coiled against mine, tasting as I slid mine against his. He tasted sweet, and I wanted more. It was all I could do to clamp my hands against the table so as not to wrap them around his neck.

He was slow but twice as passionate. He wasn’t gentle, and there was a sense of urgency, as though he was intent on exploring every inch of my mouth—and even then, it still wasn’t enough, something I understood all too well. Soon, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I took his lips in mine and kissed him back, my hand slipping around his neck, which made him pause for the barest of seconds—only for him to continue with more intensity and fervor. His lips ground against mine as his tongue tasted every inch of me, and I him. Our breaths were heavy, uneven, and I could hear nothing else until the waiter appeared in front of our booth. freēwēbnovel.com

"I... I’m so sorry!"

Her loud gasp was enough to bring me back to reality as I pushed Nico away, dragging my lips from his—but not before I met his dark gaze, which reflected only desire and need, not happy in the slightest about the interruption.

"If you were indeed sorry, you would have quietly left," he said, his tone hoarse.

I stepped farther away from him and wiped my lips, but he didn’t even bother leveling his gaze on the waiter, who bowed her head before dashing off.

Nico dropped back into his seat, but I remained standing. I didn’t want to sit beside him—I wanted us to leave, especially since I could feel that my lips were still bruised and swollen.

"Can we just—" frёewebnoѵēl.com

"Unless you’d prefer to continue where we stopped, I’d sit if I were you," he told me.

I swallowed the invisible lump in my throat. His gaze was intense in a way that made it clear he had every intention of going through with it. He leaned back, but I could tell he was holding himself back from pulling me onto him right there and then.

Silently, I slid back into the booth, shifting my gaze to the pieces of meat in the bowl we had ordered, coated thickly in the spiciest sauce—hoping it would deter Nico from kissing me again if the urge struck him. Instead, I barely tossed a piece into my mouth, chewing on it, when I almost choked as I heard him speak.

"I want to touch you," he said.

I coughed, quickly grabbing my glass and drinking water to stop the tears that formed in my eyes as I stared at him wide-eyed.

"I want to do it with your permission, and I want you to—"

But there was no way I was going to let him finish.

Meeting his gaze, I scooted slightly closer to him, my expression as serious as I could muster, determined to kill whatever mutual attraction he thought existed between us.

"I only kissed you because it’s in the contract—nothing more. Whatever desire you think I feel is all in your head," I told him, ignoring the flicker of surprise on his face.

The truth was, I was scared. It was one thing to have a sexual relationship—which was easy enough—and another to have such a thing with Nico. He had no boundaries, and I wasn’t even sure he was aware of that. Part of me was convinced that the reason he desired me was simply because he couldn’t have me.

If sex was truly just that, then he could have it with a thousand and one women who would gladly jump into his bed.

"I’m simply abiding by the rules we set. I need to find my father’s killer, and you’ll help. In exchange, I’ll kiss you back with a smile," I told him directly, lying through my teeth—but I didn’t care.

I couldn’t even look at him as I took a couple more gulps of water from my glass.

Nico didn’t respond immediately, and he didn’t have to. I could feel his gaze settle on me as silence stretched between us after I finished speaking. He simply sat there, then reached for the bottle and poured himself a drink—orange juice, not even wine—which he sipped quietly, his gaze more focused on the glass than anything else.

Silence settled heavily between us minutes later—me sipping water, him drinking juice. We stayed there for a short while before Nico made it clear that he was heading back to the office, which I did as well. But instead of leaving with him at the end of the day, I took another car, putting distance between us. It wasn’t practical, but it was necessary—even if only temporary—as I headed into my room for the night.

I had just slammed the door behind me when I heard a knock—unexpected. Even more so when I opened it to see Vera standing there, her expression mostly cold.

Colder than blank.

She bowed politely. "Master Nico asks that you join him for dinner," she said, standing there, looking at me. Not a ripple in her gaze, but her anger might as well have been palpable in the air.

"Thanks for informing me," I responded before shutting the door.

I had already asked Nico to remove her as my maid since I’d rather not have one at all than have one who worked for the enemy. But as soon as the door shut, I realized it would be better to get her fired entirely than leave her as a latent risk.

I took a bath before dressing in a pair of black pants and heading out to see Nico. The dining hall wasn’t private—and I had no intention of a repeat performance of what had happened that afternoon.

By 8 p.m., I stepped into the hall only to see him already seated, serving himself from the dishes laid out on the table. I didn’t hesitate to join him. I preferred us acting normal around others rather than having to dance around him.

I had only just served my food onto my plate when I spoke.

"Vera—I think she’s a spy," I said directly, annoyed that I had to deal with her for even a second longer. Worse was the fact that I knew she felt I owed her something.

"I know," Nico responded, to my immense shock, as he continued eating slowly.

He was colder than usual, and it bothered me—it wasn’t something I was used to. His gaze remained fixed on his plate as he ate.

"Do you at least know who she’s spying for?" I asked, knowing he wouldn’t have kept her around unless he was certain of something. I fixed my gaze on him as he continued eating, which in itself surprised me—Nico never really ate much.

"Bianca. Kade. Either one of them—or someone from your father’s estate," he replied, placing his cutlery down and wiping his lips before continuing.

"I would eat if I were you. Gotti is in the hospital, and we’re going to visit him. Your gun should arrive soon."

I should have felt relieved—but I didn’t.

Following him to torture someone was one thing. Visiting a mafia don in a hospital—one who could be attacked at any moment if he was still alive—was something else entirely.