Catching Bianca: A Dark Mafia Romance (Shadows of Obsession Book 4)
Catching Bianca: Chapter 24

Two hours. That’s how long Bianca’s been ignoring my existence, treating me as if I’m stale air.

Two hours too long.

I’m itching inside, drilling holes in her face with my stare, hoping she’ll swing those honey eyes my way, but no.

She elected to ride here with Carter and Hailey and hasn’t said a word or looked my way since “Stay away from me.”

It’s driving me insane. The pill would be easier to swallow if I hadn’t held her in my arms. If I hadn’t felt the heat of her petite body. If I hadn’t seen the fear on her face as I walked into Carter’s living room. If every instinct in my body hadn’t begged me to calm her down and keep her close.

But it did.

She’s never been more appealing than when her tough exterior melted, revealing she feels emotions other than anger.

Too bad it didn’t last long.

I scan the dance floor, watching the girls enjoy the evening. They’re glowing, smiling, dancing like the world might end soon. The tight black number hugging Bianca’s frame draws too many eyes. Men stare at her hips swaying, at her boobs bouncing in their tight prison, at her wasp waist, long legs, and pouty mouth…

My hand slides to my holster too often so I drop it onto my thigh, balling a tight fist. The other hand toys with my half-empty glass. It’s either that or sending a flurry of bullets into the brains of the men ogling Bianca.

Another ten minutes pass before Hailey grabs her arm, says something in her ear, then saunters away toward the VIP area.

Bianca doesn’t follow.

My knee starts bouncing, eyes burning into her as if I can summon her back here by sheer will alone.

I can’t. All I can do is watch as the music takes her.

Within seconds a random guy wraps his arm around her middle, pinning her to his chest. She doesn’t move away. She doesn’t startle, settling against him as if she’s known him her whole life. I clench my fist harder. So hard my nails aren’t far off breaking the skin.

This is fucking ridiculous. She’s a cold-hearted diva. Self-sufficient. Independent. Tougher than tungsten.

And yet, when her walls crumble, I’m dying to touch her.

The way she zeroed in on my lips earlier haunts me in the worst way possible… I’m full of regret.

I should’ve kissed her. God knows I wanted to.

Maybe if I had, she wouldn’t be grinding against this soon-to-be toothless fucker, her hands draping over the nape of his neck, his face buried in her hair.

Koby snickers beside me. “Either beat the crap out of the guy or go screw another pussy. Your foul mood’s shitting all over my evening.”

I don’t grace his comment with a reply. Instead, I wash the bile climbing up my throat with a hefty sip of whiskey, the amber liquid burning my esophagus.

“We both know you want her,” he continues. “Stop fighting this and make your move.”

The guy with Bianca says something in her ear. Whatever he’s saying is met with a brief wide-eyed look ahead. So brief I’m not sure it happened, because in the next breath she fakes a smile and spins around, staring up at the guy.

He says something else, and this time, Bianca nods.

Adrenaline spikes in my veins when the guy grabs Bianca’s wrist, leading her off the dance floor toward a dark corridor. Where the restrooms are…

My heart accelerates as fast as my temper, going from zero to prison in the blink of an eye.

Koby slams his big hand on my shoulder, squeezing once. “Given how fast she let the guy lead her away, I don’t think you’ve got much time. She’s played this well.”

“Elaborate.”

“Oh come on,” he huffs out. “Don’t pretend you’re blind. She wants you, and this guy… well, either she hopes this will make you jealous, or she’s moving on because you’ve ignored all the signals she’s been sending. Either way, your move.”

Jealous doesn’t scratch the surface of what’s pawing the dirt inside my head. As soon as they’re out of sight, I see red. My pulse skyrockets, imagination pulling images of Bianca against the men’s restroom wall, that slimy blonde fucker lifting her skirt and… I shoot out of my chair as if my ass is on fire.

Koby’s snickering is swallowed by the thumping bass as I barrel across the dance floor, my fingers itching for the gun tucked into my holster.

People step out of my way, the murder on my mind bleeding over my features if the fearful stares I get are any indication. I’m in the dark corridor within thirty seconds, my heavy footsteps reverberating through the air.

A few men stand outside the restroom, looking amused until they see me coming. I grab the handle, but it doesn’t budge, the door locked from the inside.

“You’ll have to wait a minute. They’re getting busy in there,” someone says behind me.

Another wave of blinding fury shakes me. I’m not usually this violent. My iron-clad grip on control gets tested a lot, but I’m a master at diverting attention and remaining calm while everyone else flies off the handle.

This… this is the very first time I’ve lost my cool in such an extreme snap-of-a-finger kind of way.

Control? What fucking control?

The term, the idea behind it, slips out of my mind until it becomes a foreign concept. In a daze, a blinding jealous streak, I brace against the opposite wall and charge, entering the restroom like a wrecking ball.

The door snaps off its hinges, the thud accompanied by Bianca’s yelp and that fucker’s “What the hell?!”

She sits on the counter by the sinks, her skirt rolled up. The blond corpse stands between her legs, hands on her hips. He’s touching her and the smeared lipstick in the corner of her mouth tells me he already kissed her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I don’t bother with words. I’m too far gone for that, the adrenaline levels in my system hitting an all-time high. I have him by the collar in three strides, shoving him toward the door with all my might.

He stumbles over his feet but regains his balance, unaware he’s just woken the devil.

Instead of running for dear life, he shakes it off, bends his knees, and raises his fists like a professional boxer. Behind his back, a small crowd gathers in the doorway, watching the unfolding scene with amused interest.

“Come at me,” the blond taunts. “See what happens. Go on, try your fucking luck.”

Someone hollers, someone groans, someone mutters, “You’re dead, man.” I ignore the onlookers, my hand already at my holster. The cold steel in my palm injects a shred of control back into my system. Not enough to stop me flipping the safety or aiming straight between his eyes though.

“I’ll count to five,” I grit out past clenched teeth, fury like a separate, wild beast kicking a riot inside my mind. “Don’t test my patience. I don’t have any. One.”

“You’re going to shoot me?” he scoffs, but his combat stance falters. He looks at Bianca for reassurance. “Who’s that, babe?”

She doesn’t answer and I don’t glance over my shoulder to check her expression. All that matters is that she’s safely behind me, my body separating her from this scumbag.

“Three,” I seethe, skipping two for digression when he looked at my girl. “Look at her again, and I pull the fucking trigger.”

“Who the hell are you?” the guy huffs, opening his clenched fists to signal surrender. “Whatever, man, no pussy’s worth this shit.” He turns just as the bullet leaves the chamber.

It misses his head—as intended—by an inch and hits the wall, not far from the crowd in the doorway. They scatter, Bianca screams, and the blond almost trips over his legs on his way out.

“What is wrong with you?!” Bianca booms, stepping into my line of fire.

I holster the gun immediately, flipping the safety back on in the process. “Me? What the fuck are you doing?”

“I was trying to get laid! What did it look like?”

My pulse spikes again. “You’re not getting fucked by some random idiot in—”

“Why?” she interrupts, frustration mounting in her tone. She pokes her finger into my chest. “It’s none of your business what I do or who I do it with.”

The tightly wound rubber band inside me snaps.

I grab her in half and fling her over my shoulder, marching out of the restroom. She’s so taken aback she yelps. No words leave her mouth. What’s more, she doesn’t fight like I expected. Instead of going back to the VIP area, I turn left, shove the emergency door open and carry Bianca outside.

The cool evening air hits her skin, raising goosebumps along the backs of her thighs beneath my fingertips. I’m so far gone, so fucking angry, so jealous my brain’s misfiring.

I slide her down my body when I reach my Jeep.

She sways on her feet before regaining her balance, small torches swimming in her gaze. Defiance seeps into her features, hands cross over her chest.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks again, taking a step away. “I’m going back inside.”

“Like hell you are.” I open the passenger-side door, deposit her in the seat, and buckle her up, all the while ignoring her refrains of “Let me go,” and “You’re crazy.”

Once she’s inside, I lock the car, round the hood, then unlock it again, slipping into my seat. The engine springs to life and music blasts from the speakers, drowning out Bianca’s protests, swears, and threats.

Let her vent.