The Angel In White

Lorenzo's POV

She went under between one breath and the next, and the car went quiet with her. Slack beside me, she couldn't hide her face anymore, so I studied it. Dark blood had soaked the clean white of her gown and sat in small hard flecks against the soft skin of her throat. I liked the look of it. Perfect.

"We've lost them," Vance said.

I checked the back window. Empty. We'd only injured Celeste's two companions, so their people were tied up helping the wounded instead of following us.

"She's hot," Bruno said from the front seat.

I leaned in until I was in his space. "One more word about her, Bruno, and I'll rip your eyeballs out of your skull and feed them to you. Got it?"

Bruno nodded so fast he nearly hit the dash. Vance looked at me, curious. I sat back and turned to Celeste where she lay still. Her hair was pinned tight except for one curl over her temple. I wrapped it around my finger. I wanted to see how controlled she really was once she woke.

The motel lot sat dark when we pulled in. I hauled her limp body inside, the gown heavy in my arms, and set her on one of the beds. I pulled a twig free of her hair and let it fall loose around her shoulders. I straightened.

Vance sighed. "Her family is going to want revenge for this. Marco will. He's the head of that family."

"He won't attack while we have her. She's trapped here, and he knows he can't get her out of Vegas."

Vance nodded, eyes on her. Her neck lay bare. I looked at the lace sitting just above her chest. Modest. Careful. Marco's niece could still put men on their knees. Blonde hair, pale skin, white dress. She looked like an angel. I almost laughed.

"What are you thinking?" Vance asked. He'd noticed where I was looking.

"That they couldn't have made her look more innocent if they'd tried." I moved closer. "I prefer the way the blood looks on her."

"It was her wedding. They dressed her to look pure. You know how it is. Girls like her stay protected until they marry. They lose their innocence that night. Castellano and her fiancé will do anything to keep her untouched. Renato is an Underboss. Her dad's an Underboss. Marco Castellano is her uncle. They'll give us anything if you ask. We can be rid of her now if you ask my father."

I shook my head. "I won't ask yet. I won't make it easy. The Syndicate attacked Las Vegas. Tried to kill us. They brought war to our city, and I'll bring war to theirs. I'll destroy them. Tear the Syndicate apart from the inside."

Vance frowned. "How?"

"By breaking what they care about most. Men like us don't forgive it when the people we protect get hurt. Her family will worry about her every minute. They'll wonder what's happening. They'll imagine her suffering. Her mother will blame her husband and her son. They'll blame themselves. The guilt will grow. I'll make it worse. Tear them apart."

Vance looked at Celeste. She'd started to shift, and the tear in her dress moved, baring her leg and the white lace garter on her thigh. He pulled the dress down over her. I watched him do it.

"She's innocent," he said.

"She won't stay that way for long," I said.

Vance met my eyes. "Hurting her won't break them. It'll settle their anger and make them stronger."

"We'll see." I nodded at the desk. "Let's call Cassian and decide what we do next."

We walked over and put the phone on speaker. The second the call ended, a soft moan left her. We turned. She was waking slow, confused, blinking at the wall, then the ceiling. Her breath picked up. Her hands moved over her ribs, then her stomach, like she thought we'd done something to her while she was out. It made sense. She was going to be sore.

"If you keep touching yourself like that, I can't promise I won't do something."

She froze. Her eyes jumped to us.

"We didn't touch you while you were unconscious," Vance said.

She looked at us like she didn't know whether she could trust that.

"You'd know if I or Vance fucked you, Celeste. Trust me."

She pressed her lips together. Fear showed plain in her blue eyes. She tried to push herself up off the bed and couldn't. Her eyes closed. Her breathing stayed fast. Her fingers shook.

"She's still drugged," Vance said.

"I'll get her a Coke. Maybe the caffeine wakes her up. I don't like her like this. Weak and unresponsive. It's no fun."

I turned for the door.