Chapter 325

He snorted. “Sofia had you for a whole month back then, and this is it?”

Stephanie clamped her teeth down, grinding them. Richard passed his wine glass to the medic who’d just patched him up, moving slow and smooth like he was on vacation.

He slipped on a black shirt, taking his sweet time, that perfect hair making him look like some wholesome guy-next-door—clean and polished on the outside. But Stephanie wasn’t fooled. She knew he was trash underneath.

He plopped down next to her, all lazy and cocky. “What, you think you’re hot stuff to Sebastian? That he’ll always come running to save you?”

Stephanie didn’t waste words—just rolled her eyes so hard it practically screamed disgust. Richard was her personal plague, always showing up when she least wanted to see his face. Years ago, his sister had ripped her away from Sebastian. Now here he was again, grabbing her like she was his.

Richard caught her eye-roll and grinned bigger, loving every second of it. “Stefi, oh my little Stefi, after all this time, you’re still a little brat, huh?” he said, his voice soft but dripping with mockery.

“Don’t you dare ‘Stefi’ me with that nasty mouth,” she shot back, her tone thick with loathing. The Casalini and Giovanni families used to be tight—until her dad died. Then the Casalinis flipped, kicking her family when they were already down, leaving her with nothing.

She didn’t always hate Richard this much, but now? Just looking at him made her want to puke—she’d rather he be on the other side of the planet. Richard got up and squatted next to her, staring her down, his eyes locked on hers, intense and creepy.

Then the chopper jerked hard, knocking him off balance. He almost fell right on her, the whole cabin shaking. Stephanie dodged quick, twisting out of the way just in time. His hurt hand smacked the floor to catch himself, and he groaned, pain scrunching his face.

“What the hell’s happening?” he snapped, annoyance cutting through his voice. The pilot—who doubled as a bodyguard—glanced back from the front. “Sir, Mr. Giovanni’s catching up.”

Richard smirked at Stephanie, a smug little spark in his eyes. “He’s got some messed-up taste, huh? Chasing after the sister he grew up with?” He stretched the words out, slow and sharp, digging at her on purpose.

The bodyguard wasn’t holding Stephanie anymore—her hands and feet were free. That “messed-up taste” jab lit her fuse. Stephanie jumped up and slapped him hard across the face, the crack bouncing around the cabin.

“None of your damn business. Worry about your own sorry ass,” she growled, anger roaring through her.

Richard’s face went dark, something ugly flashing in his eyes. He snatched her wrist, yanking it hard. “This little stick? Bet it’d break like nothing,” he said, squeezing ‘til it stung. All those years running, and her temper had only gotten worse.

Facing Richard, Stephanie felt like a trapped animal—years torn from Sebastian because of the Casalinis, and no way to let out all that bottled-up rage. Seeing him flipped her switch, her fury ready to blow. His threat? Didn’t faze her one bit. She lunged and chomped down on his hand, biting hard, teeth grinding into skin and bone.

In seconds, her mouth tasted like rust—blood, bitter and metallic. “Gah-” Richard sucked in a sharp breath, pain twisting his face, brows digging in deep. Richard’s free hand clamped onto Stephanie’s jaw, digging in hard—mean, no mercy. He had to. She was like a rabid cat, damn near ready to tear a piece out of his hand.

The pain pried her mouth open, blood smearing her lips as she let go. Their eyes locked, and hers were shiny with tears—big, watery, like an angry kitten, half pitiful, half badass. That look was a dagger, sharp and full of hate, slicing right into him.

Richard snorted. “You draw my blood and you’re the one crying?” Stephanie didn’t flinch. She spat the blood in her mouth right onto his face. “Tastes like shit—take it back.”

Richard’s teeth clenched, rage twisting his face as the blood dripped, making him look like some kind of monster. Before he could shoot something back, the pilot cut in, voice tense. “Sir, they’re gaining on us fast.”

“Lose them,” Richard snapped, irritation biting through his words. He shoved Stephanie off him, her body slamming into a seat with a dull thud. “Tell Sebastian, that bastard—if he doesn’t back off, I’ll haul Stephanie out of this chopper and we’ll both go splat,” Richard growled, every word dripping with spite.

Stephanie froze. Her jaw dropped, eyes wide with shock. The bodyguards in the cabin went quiet too, thinking he’d lost his mind. That threat was too sick and low, even for him.

Richard turned to Stephanie, flashing a nasty grin. “Stefi, want to crash and burn with me?” She lost it. “No, thanks. You deserve a cell in hell, alone!” she hissed, her voice cutting sharp.

Richard clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. That mouth—I liked you better back in Fiorenza. Where’d you pick up this trash talk?” “Such a dirty little mouth now,” he muttered, teasing but poking at her. He leaned in, thumb brushing her pale lips—slow, messing with her—until she chomped down on it.

She bit hard, like she’d rip his thumb off, teeth digging in deep. The bodyguards stared, eyes bugging out. In minutes, she’d gone from gnawing his hand to his thumb—she wasn’t a hostage, she was like a freaking tornado.

But Richard? He didn’t snap her neck. Just squinted at her, locking eyes. He ruffled her soft hair with his free hand. “Stefi, let go. Be good,” he said, voice smooth but with a hard edge. That just made her clamp down harder, her teeth shaking from the effort.