Page 22 of Cruel Master

He doesn't even spare me a glance as he steers me purposefully with a hand on the small of my back.

“Out.”

ChapterFifteen

My heart is beatinga mile a minute as Gabriel walks me to the limo that's idling at the front of his mansion. He keeps his hand firmly on the small of my back, but I don't sense any tension in him. He's not even the least bit concerned that I might try to escape.

And why would he be? He already knows that it wouldn't do me any good. Still, I can't stop my mind from churning with possible escape routes.

He holds the door open for me and helps me into the limo, smirking down at me as he catches my eyes—as if he can read the thoughts in my head.

I press my lips together and avert my gaze. I hate the way the man seems to be inside my head. How can he read me so well? Of course, he basically admitted to stalking me.

Still…just how long did he watch me to where he can know how to read me so well?

I hate that. He has an unfair advantage. He always seems to know what's going on in my head, yet I can't ever figure out what's going on in his.

The ride to wherever we're going is silent but filled with energy. I don't bother asking him again where he's taking me because I know he won’t answer.

He doesn't try to make small talk with me either, but he keeps his hand on my knee. It's a possessive gesture that lets me know I belong to him.

I hate it and love it at the same time.

What the hell is wrong with me?

My eyes keep flicking down to where his hand rests on my knee. He's not moving his fingers. He's not stroking my skin. He's just letting it rest there.

And it's driving me fucking insane.

I feel his heavy gaze on me as I look at his hand, but I don't allow myself to look at him. Instead, I look stubbornly out the window.

I hear him chuckle and thank god when the limo finally comes to a stop. Gabriel helps me from it before he wraps a possessive arm around my shoulders and holds me close to his side with a hand on my waist.

If I thought I would get any answers about where we are once we arrived, I was sadly mistaken.

Gabriel ushers me into the side door of a seedy-looking alleyway, but I can't even see any other buildings around us. I don't have a clue where we're at. Somehow, we still seem to be in the middle of nowhere even though where we are is obviously urban.

When we go inside, I'm not given any more answers either. The area is dimly lit and seems like some sort of exclusive club. I can see expensive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and there are booths and tables set up all along the wall. They’re all lit by candlelight. It's actually really beautiful, but I can't really tell if it's a restaurant or what. There are men in suits with beautiful women sitting next to them at the booths and tables, and then there are topless women walking around, holding serving platters of drinks and food. If this is a restaurant, it's not the normal type.

I peek a suspicious glance at Gabriel. Just what kind of sick shit is this fucker into?

I know he feels my gaze on him, but he doesn't look at me. His eyes are keen and alert as they scan the room. Several men sit up taller in their seats when he walks in and nod their heads at him.

I watch everyone's acknowledgment of Gabriel. It's clear that whomever Gabriel is he's a prominent person of notoriety and power within this group. Several of the women simper at him, and a hot surge of jealousy flares up within me. It confuses me because I do not want Gabriel.

I don't.

So why do I care if they smile at him?

One look at Gabriel shows me that he doesn't even glance at the other women. That soothes the sting of my jealousy, but again, I don't understand why I even feel jealous of this psychopath. They can have him.

And that only confuses me even more because it's obvious he can have any woman he wants. The man is seriously hot. So why did he go to these lengths to kidnap me and force me to be with him? It makes no sense.

An older man with a bulbous nose makes his way over to us. He nods to me and then starts speaking to Gabriel. “Mr. Blake, have you had a chance to—"

The man's words are cut off with one withering stare from Gabriel. The man swallows and runs a nervous hand through his hair before he begins profusely apologizing, “Forgive me, sir. I must have forgotten my manners. I'll wait for you to call me.”

Gabriel never says a word, and the man scurries off.

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