Page 190 of Taming Seraphine

I try to pull my hand away, but he snatches my wrist.

“Say you don’t love me, Seraphine.”

He leans into the blade, letting it cut into his skin. Blood pours freely from the wound, trickles down the scalpel’s handle, and onto my fingers.

“What are you doing?” I jerk my hand away, but Leroi’s grip holds it in place.

“If you don’t love me, then finish me.”

Tears blur my vision. I blink them away, but they’re only replaced by more. I don’t want Leroi dead. Who would I cuddle up to if he dies? Who would supply me with chocolate fountains and mind-blowing orgasms? Who would make me breakfast and chase away my nightmares?

My fingers loosen around the scalpel, and it falls to the floor with a clang.

“Don’t die.” I fling my arms around his neck. “I couldn’t stand it if you were gone.”

Leroi pulls me into a hug. “I’m not going anywhere, angel. But you’ll need to let go of me if you don’t want Samson Capello to crawl out the door.”

SEVENTY-FIVE

LEROI

Tearing myself away from Seraphine on the operating table, I cross the room to where the last Capello shuffles on his hands and knees toward his fallen lackey’s pistol.

My footsteps are light, but I doubt he can hear me through his labored breaths. Gunshot wounds to the gut are excruciating, but not immediately fatal, and I intend to deliver him to Seraphine alive.

Overtaking him, I kick the pistol away, sending it skidding across the floor. Samson’s eyes snap up to meet mine, his features twisted into a rictus of pain.

“Let me go, and I won’t kill you,” he says.

I pull him up by the lapels. Pain flares across my abdomen, and I clench my teeth. “You’re in no position to make demands.”

“What the fuck do you want?” he asks with a pained moan.

“Call your contact at the Moirai Group and cancel the hit.”

He laughs, the sound grating my eardrums. “So you can kill me?”

“Your men are all dead, as is your family. That leaves you with two choices. I can kill you slowly until you beg for death, or you can die fast with a bullet through the skull.”

Samson’s features drop, and his face pales. “I’ll call off the hit, but only on the condition that you don’t kill me.”

“Fine.”

“Swear on your life.”

My brow rises. “Are you serious?”

“Swear on your fucking life.”

Sweat beads across my brow. and I clench my jaw. Of all the ridiculous bullshit. But I’ll play along because the Moirai are like a hydra. Cut down one assassin, and two more will spring up to avenge their fallen comrade. They’re relentless, focusing on quantity over quality, not caring about the collateral damage they inflict to guarantee results.

“Alright then,” I rasp.

Spots dance in my vision. I suck in a deep breath and chase them away. “I, Leroi Montesano, swear on my life that I will not put a bullet through Samson Capello’s head. Nor will I keep him alive and give him a lingering death.”

Samson nods, and I release him. He hits the ground with a pained grunt. I reach into the back pocket of his pants and pull out his phone.

“Don’t try anything stupid.” I push the device into his trembling fingers.