Page 283 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

I get out of the car and walk around to open her door, but before I can grab the handle, she opens it herself, shoving the door into me. I jump back but not in enough time and she swings the door into my gut.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says in the fakest sweet voice I’ve ever heard. “I didn’t realize chivalry is still alive and well in your domain.”

“Don’t press my buttons, Marchella,” I seethe, pushing her against the door. My head gets a little fuzzy at her nearness, her sweet scent intoxicating me even as repressed anger bubbles in my veins. She’s always had that spark inside of her. I guess recent events have really made them ignite, and fuck me if I’m not turned on by the woman she’s become. “You won’t like what happens if you do.”

She tilts her head to the side. “Well, let’s see. You’ve already stalked me, kidnapped me, drugged me, and threatened my life. What’s left? And let’s be real. You aren’t going to kill me…yet, anyway. You need me alive to make sure Frankie delivers, right? I’m the incentive.” Her eyes shoot white-hot flames. “So guess what? I’m going to push, push, push — harder and faster than you ever thought possible,” she seethes, trying to sidestep me. “I’m not the same girl you remember, Roman. Never forget that.”

I grab her wrist, yanking her back so she’s forced to look at me. “Let’s get something straight. You’re here because your brother fucked up. And until he makes things right, you’ll stay here, next to me, under me, on top of me…any which way I want, understand? You’re fucking mine until I say you’re not.”

My pulse throbs as her gaze becomes decidedly more murderous, although I’m pleased to see a bit of shock settle into her expression as well. I want to keep her on her toes. I want her to wonder what I’ll do next.

“Let’s get another thing straight. The only way you’d ever have me on top of you is if I was about to impale your heart with a steak knife. And the only way I’d ever be under you is if I was comatose or dead.”

“I like a challenge,” I growl, breathing her in, letting her rage infuse me. As if I need any more of it. “Game fucking on.”

I move away, letting her stomp away from me. I have to forcibly drag my eyes away from her Spandex-covered ass as it swings left and right while she stalks toward the only door visible. It leads to my private elevator. This is bad news…bringing her here, having her so close to me. I follow behind her, sticking my key into the door as she stands next to it, her hands over her chest.

I lead her toward the elevator and stick my key into the lock next to it. Lots of security is required in my line of work. When you blank out on safety precautions, shit goes sideways and you end up being robbed of five-hundred grand worth of blow.

Cue the fucking irony of that one.

The elevator door slides open and she just stands there, staring straight ahead, as if getting in will mean she concedes to this whole thing. The reality is, she conceded once she got into my car. Resisting now is kind of futile.

“You getting in or what?” I say after a few seconds. My patience is wearing thin, and I have a lot of shit to deal with once we get upstairs.

She clutches the sides of the elevator, her shoulders quaking. I furrow my brow, knowing that the alarm will sound unless the doors are allowed to close.

“I c-can’t,” she rasps.

“Look,” I sigh. “I already told you, play your cards right and all of this will be over before?—”

She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers.

“Unless you try to fuck with me?—”

“No!” she thunders. “No fucking elevator!”

I lift an eyebrow. “You got a problem with elevators?”

Marchella turns to look at me, her face pale, her eyes swirling with sadness. “Yes.” She pushes past me. “Now, where are the stairs?”

I fist the sides of my head, following her as she walks deeper into the basement parking garage, pulling open another door. I can see her shoulders relax when she’s greeted by the cement stairs. All five flights of them.

By the time we get to the top, I’m out of breath and sweat trickles down my spine, making my t-shirt cling to me like Saran Wrap. I collapse against the door and stick my key into the lock. I own the whole building, and the other apartments are about to undergo some serious renovations when I combine all of the floors into one, five-story living space. But for now, I’m staying on the top levels.

With Dante.

I silence a groan, twisting the knob and pushing open the door. I’d better come up with a way to spin this to him and fast.

Marchella turns a critical eye at me. “You really need to build up your stamina.”

“Are you offering to help with that?” I rasp, my heart still beating hard and fast against my chest from the impromptu exertion.

She flips me off and walks into the apartment, stopping short in the foyer.

It’s pretty damn impressive, if I say so myself. Not that I had much to do with the décor. I paid a very expensive decorator to handle all of that. It’s an open floor plan without doors. Sunlight streams into the space through the large windows that line the perimeter of the apartment. There are two floors in my apartment, the top accessible by a set of tempered glass stairs in the center of the living area. Stainless steel railings glimmer in the dusky light, and polished porcelain tile floors bring a touch of modern glamour to the space.

At least, that’s what the decorator told me when she presented me with the hefty bill for her services.

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