I put a hand on my cocked hip. If he thinks he can bark an order and get rid of me, he doesn’t know who he’s fucking with. I’m about to show him exactly who I am. A Bianchi. I am not someone to roll over and put up with his bullshit. Right as mymouth opens to tell him as much, the three men stand and walk towards me.
They give me a cautious look as they walk by. When the last one is out the door, I slam it shut and lock it. Then I dig into my bag and pull out the gun, followed by the listening device, which I throw at Jake. The asshole catches it in one hand.
“I believe this belongs to you,” I hiss. “What the actual fuck, Jake? You’re spying on me?”
My hand is steady as I walk farther into the room, keeping the pistol aimed at his head. Jake doesn’t flinch. “How have you been, Jazzy? Please, have a seat.” He motions to the chair in front of his desk.
“Fuck you. Don’thow have you been, Jazzyme, asshole. Why the hell are you spying on me?”
“Put the gun away, Jasmine. We both know you’re not going to shoot me,” he says, sitting down in his desk chair as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“The last man who underestimated me is now sinking at the bottom of the East River. You don’t know me anymore, Jacob. You have no idea what I’m capable of,” I tell him.
Chapter Six
Fucking beautiful.That’s the only thought going through my head right now. The woman in front of me, the one currently aiming the barrel of a gun right at my head, isfucking beautiful. Probably not the thing I should be focusing on when my life is being threatened.
Jazzy has stormed into my office wearing the same yellow sundress she wore when she met up with Brad. Her long, brown hair hangs loose down her back and her face is fucking flawless as ever. Her eyes—those big, round, brown eyes with flecks of gold that have always held so much joy for life in them—seem duller somehow. I’m not seeing that same spark. Something has changed.
I smile, knowing it only pisses her off more. “You’re wrong. I know you better than you know yourself, Jazzy. If you wanted to shoot me, you would have already. So why don’t you put the gun away and sit down.”
She scowls at me, and I fight the urge to laugh. I don’t care who she put at the bottom of the East River. I couldn’t care less how many bodies she buries. Because I know this woman loves me in a way that’s inexplainable. The same way I’ve always loved her.
“I’m not sitting down, and you are going to stopkeeping tabson meor whatever stalkerish bullshit it is you’re doing,” she huffs.
“Your treehouse,” I tell her.
“What?”
“That treehouse your dad built for you. The first time I was over, we went in it. We were ten. We pinkie promised there’d never be any secrets between us. I’m not stalking you. I’m keeping that promise,” I tell her.
“You have to be fucking kidding me!” she screams. But her arm lowers in frustration, the gun now resting at her side.
“Put the fucking gun away, Jasmine. Or point it at me. I’m not having you accidentally shoot yourself,” I grunt.
“Careful, Jacob, or I might mistake your tone for concern.” She smiles.
I stand and walk around my desk. Jazzy doesn’t move. Not even when I stop just an inch in front of her. So fucking close. “You think I’m not concerned about you, Jazzy?” I ask.
“I think the only person you’re concerned about is yourself.” She smiles sweetly at me, and then I feel the barrel of the gun pressed against my dick. It instantly hardens.
Yeah, that’s not something I’m digging into right now.
“If you’re going to shoot me, then shoot me. If not, then sit the fuck down and let’s have a conversation like adults,” I tell her. “Because, I gotta be honest, Jazzy, you mad as hell like this? It’s turning me on. So unless you want to end up spread over my desk with your ass in the air, stop threatening to kill me.”
The gun presses harder against my dick. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? You want to have your filthy way with me, Jake? Fuck me until my knees buckle and my throat is coarse from screaming your name?”
I lift a shoulder, feigning boredom. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
Jazzy steps backwards. “Too bad I’ve already sampled what you’re offering, and I gotta say… I’ve had better.” She drops the gun into her bag and looks back up at me. “Stop spying on me, or I won’t be the only Bianchi paying you a visit next time. And need you forget, my father isn’t the type to issue warnings before he shoots.”
“First, we were sixteen. My skills have improved. Immensely. And second, if you wanted your father to kill me, I’d already be dead. Stop pretending you hate me, Jasmine.”
“I don’t hate you, Jake. To hate, you have to feel. And I feel nothing for you. Absolutely nothing.” She turns to walk out the door.
I reach out and take hold of her wrist, stopping her. “Wait.”
Jazzy looks at her arm, and then her eyes travel back up to my face. “Let go of me,” she says.