Devour You

33

Victoria

When I follow behind Rio, the vast room is anything but silent. Incessant clinging radiating from the active machinery consumes the hot air within the brick walls of Chris' place - causing my ears to pound. But after a few minutes of wandering around, with the gangster's comforting hand still in mine, I already become use to the echoing surroundings.

Countless gang bangers around our observant frames are so heavily focused on the machines in front of them - thin layers of green sheets creep out of the automatic globs of metal, only to drop onto the surfaces of tables to shape a mountain of cash.

For a split second, I think my brown eyes widen. Then, Rio rather suddenly comes to a firm stop inches away from me - resulting for my front to crash into the back of his tall and suited figure. His warm hand slips from mine when he turns back to latch onto my examining gaze.

"Look around you, sweetheart." Rio begins, soon reverting his gaze onto any thing around us in the room. I glimpse around me again - from four men stocking guns into some secured box to the sweaty men huddling outside of a mat. The bouncing, perspiring men catch my full attention, a moment, when I watch two of them walk up to the mat plastered across the cemented floor. Each of their own masculine fists clenched and balled, as they exchange challenging glares toward one another.

Are they...about to fight?

Suddenly, alerting cheers unravel when one of the sweaty men take a blow to the face. I watch the guy drop to the mat's surface, after the cold hit, and cool adrenaline starts pumping in me just from watching.

"This is where I grew up, you know." Rio shouts over the increased cheers and incessant clashing of metal. I peer over in his direction; seeing his dark orbs glimmer under the mere providing light from the dimly lit ceiling. He's gazing around the first floor, seemingly in admiration. I feel my pink lips twitch. I can't take my eyes off him.

"So this is what built you into the infamous man you are today, huh?" I ask, my voice soft and low, laced with curiosity.

Rio then holds my steady gaze, intently. And I feel his warm fingers curl around mine in return. My heart hammers against my rib cage, at the galvanizing course pumping within my veins by his touch. His deep irises swirl with a fiery flame, steadied on me, consuming my every desire for him. I glance down to his full lips that twitch, before he shakes his head.

"Not exactly." He answers, his tone laced with rawness. I feel the angles of my face soften, then, just when my olive skinned cheeks flush quite profusely.

My lips form an almost permanent smile, and I quickly remove my gaze from his. Tucking a strand of my chestnut brown hair behind an ear, sheepishly, I clear my throat.

"So, ready to teach me how to launder cash, and the entire counterfeiting process that you familiar criminals get away with without any sliver of struggle?" I question enthusiastically, plastering a wide, playful smile in Rio's direction.

Rio's plump lips curve upward in amusement, as he raises his thick brows. "Alright," he takes in a sharp breath, eyes still twinkling, "let's get the bread, ma." He states lowly, smoothly - and I catch the hint of anticipation in his tone.

--

My muscles are tense, as I don't move a single fragment behind my patient skin. Staring down at the thin sheet of green inside the pan I just pulled from the hot oven, a gasp is sucked in between my parted lips, as my arched brows escalate in surprise.