Page 8 of Trapped

His hand skimmed over the back of my chair, brushing the side of my arm. I tensed but didn’t pull away. He was testing my limits.

“You don’t know the first thing about what you’re asking for. You can’t handle me.”

I met his gaze, refusing to cower. “Yes, I can.”

“All it’ll take is one wrong move, and you’ll regret ever walking into my office.”

My pulse raced. “Then why haven’t you kicked me out?”

He shot me a wicked smirk. “Because I’m having fun. You knocked on the devil’s door, and now you’re wondering if he’ll release you.”

“I knew what I was doing when I came here.”

He arched a brow. “What’s your plan if I decide to take advantage of you?”

I faltered, and his grin deepened. “I’m counting on the fact that you like a challenge.”

“You’re more of a damsel.” He traced his fingers lightly over my wrist, the contact searing my skin. “Running to me for help.”

I clenched my fists. “You’re the only one who can help me, Santino.”

“That’s what makes this so interesting. You’re desperate enough to approach a man like me, even though you know I could hurt you for the fuck of it.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should be. Because now that you’re here, I’m not sure I want to let you leave.”

“Then don’t. Keep me.”

Santino’s smile vanished, replaced by something darker. He looked like he was genuinely considering it. The idea of claiming me wasn’t a game anymore.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” I choked out. “Help me. Please.”

“No more begging, Delilah.”

The cold edge in his voice faded enough to make my breath hitch. He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek, a touch so soft it broke me. The walls I’d built up buckled. Tears burned before I could stop them. I turned my head, trying to escape him. I hated showing weakness, especially now. I couldn’t hold it back. My breathing shallowed and my vision blurred. I blinked furiously.

Oh God, I was unraveling right in front of him.

Santino grabbed a small box of tissues and pushed it into my hands. There was no pity in his gaze, just understanding.

I snatched a tissue and dabbed at my eyes.

Santino disappeared, and glasses clinked. He sank into the seat beside me, handing me a glass of dark amber liquid.

I lifted it to my mouth and drank.

Santino sipped his drink. “This won’t be simple.”

“I know.”

He balanced the glass on his knee. “Do you? Because this isn’t something I can do with a snap of my fingers. Not when you’re tangled up with people like your family. It’s gonna cost you.”

“What do you want?”

“You. In every way a man can have a woman.”

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