Page 117 of Kneeling to Candy

The man standing before me is as intimidating as the last time I saw him. He’s tall, six-foot at least, with a long, lean torso covered in an expensive black suit. Shaggy, shoulder-length, light brown hair gives him a wild look, matching his unpredictable demeanor. His facial features are more closely centered, showing off his murky-blue hooded eyes, round nose, and large forehead. His pale skin gives him a deathly appearance, giving you the creepy-crawlies.

But his smile…that wickedly alluring smile draws you in, catching you by surprise when he turns on you with the back of his hand.

Cú Sidhe scans me from head to toe and back, his smile growing bigger and crueler with each passing second. “You’ve changed your hair.”

I shrug, acting indifferent, allusive. “I’ve changed a lot.”

He seems amused, cocking his head at me. “I would hope you haven’t changed too much.”

“How she’s changed is of no concern to you,” Piero says, rising from his seat to face my nemesis. “And this is my private suite. See yourself out, or I’ll have my men show you the way.”

“Signore Bianchi, my apologies.” Duffy hastily intervenes, the sweat around his forehead building back up rapidly. He moves closer to the altercation, possibly sensing a war ready to break out. Duffy licks his lips, eyeing the two tyrants in the room. “Cú Sidhe likes to…greet all our guests.”

Duffy steals a quick glance my way, his wide forehead etched with worry. He’s probably recalling all the horrible shit he put me through. Seeing me with Piero possibly makes him realize it doesn’t bode well for either him or Cú Sidhe.

Piero side-eyes Duffy, sensing the lie. At the same time, Cú Sidhe is reprimanding Duffy. “You said Mister Bianchi was bringing his partner. You never mentioned he was bringing Leslie. Did you know and hide this information from me?”

Duffy jumps to defend himself, fear evident in his unsteady voice. “I knew nothing, Cú Sidhe. I swear.”

“That tracks,” Cú Sidhe seethes.

“Allowing guests to enter my private suite.” Piero tsks, chiding Duffy. “Your discretion policy is not being enforced. What other areas in this organization are lagging?”

Duffy shakes his head hastily. “No, Signore Bianchi. It’s not like that. We know your lady friend.”

“We have a history,” Cú Sidhe says in a low voice, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Meh,” I say in the most trivializing tone I can muster as I turn my attention to Piero. “History is a bit of a stretch. More like acquaintances once upon a time.”

Like he’s recalling the past, Cú Sidhe’s thin lips morph into a cruel smirk, eyeing me with hungry eyes in a way that makes my skin crawl. Gross. It makes me want to scrub my body with sandpaper.

No. I will not let him get under my skin. Too much is at stake, and he’s scrutinizing all my actions for signs of weakness.

“Cú Sidhe was a past customer from my working days in your cousin’s brothel.” I wave a dismissive hand like it’s old news, water under the bridge.

My abuser blinks, possibly surprised by my blasé response regarding my time as a sex slave.

“Interesting.” Piero mimics my fake apathy as he takes a sip of his whiskey. He looks at Cú Sidhe with amusement. “It’s like a reunion.”

“Nothing like reminiscing about the old days,” I lie while internally cringing.

“Mmm, sì. Perhaps it can wait until after the auction? We have business to deal with, Candy.”

Cú Sidhe sneers at Piero. “What kind of pet name is Candy?”

“A chosen one,” I interject coolly, facing Cú Sidhe once again. With surprising ease, I mask my expression to appear indifferent to this piece of shit.

He glares at me—a power play. Rising to the challenge, I hold his glacial gaze. He will not win.

“Everyone knows I’m sweet with the men I entertain.” I smirk, giving him a wink.

For a moment, I watch the veins in his temple protrude. His skin reddens as his anger is amplified by my defiance. Mister Controlling is not used to me talking back. His frustration is more transparent than a window.

Ha! Joke’s on him. I’m full of backtalk these days, and I love calling the shots. Damn if it isn’t exhilarating to discover how easy it is to crawl under his skin. The sadistic side of me hopes it drives him up the wall.

My back-sass has Cú Sidhe slinking closer to me, his hand half-outstretched, ready to grab me—like he’s itching to teach me a lesson.

Before he can come within grabbing distance, Butch is at his back, stopping Cú Sidhe mid-motion. He yanks my abuser’s arm behind his back, forcing Cú Sidhe upward on his toes as he tries to escape the pain.

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