Page 52 of Curse

I reach another turn and press my back against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut for a second to steady myself. Deep breath. Quick look. My usual routine. But when I peek around the corner this time, my breath catches, and I freeze.

Holy shit. It’s Matti.

God, I forgot how fucking gorgeous he is. Tattoos wind up his thick, muscled arms, disappearing under the sleeves of hisbutton-up shirt, rolled to the elbows. The expensive fabric of his tailored suit pants clings to his thighs, and… damn, I shouldn’t be noticing his ass right now. But I can’t help it. My cheeks burn as I remember the last time I saw him, his shirt off, water streaming over his inked skin, every hard muscle etched in sharp relief.

He runs a hand over his beard, the movement casual yet charged with tension, and just as he starts to turn his head my way, I duck back behind the wall. My heart, already racing, now feels like it’s about to explode. Heat washes over me, though I’m not sure if it’s fear, embarrassment, or something else entirely.

It doesn’t matter. He’s the last person I want to see right now.

I wait, pressing a trembling hand to my chest, willing my breathing to quiet. When I risk another glance, Matti is jogging down the hall away from me, disappearing around a corner.

Relief and frustration twist inside me. I can’t stay hidden here forever, and I know there’s no exit back the way I came. Following him might lead me to a different part of this fucking warehouse.

I move, careful to stay as quiet as possible, my steps quick but measured. Passing Franco’s room for what feels like the hundredth time, I curse under my breath. It’s maddening how lost I feel. I’m so focused on retracing Matti’s path that I don’t hear the soft footsteps behind me until it’s too late.

A sharp click echoes by my head, freezing me in place.

“Well, if it isn’t Matti’sprincipessa.”

I exhale shakily and turn. Vin stands with a gun leveled at my head and a smirk on his face.

“That means ‘princess,’” he smirks.

“No shit, asshole,” I mutter, shooting him a nasty look.

“Aw, don’t give me that look… Siena, isn’t it?” His voice is mocking and light, though his eyes are sharp. “You’re lucky it was me who found you and not Matti.” He steps back, gesturing grandly toward the way I came, his bow exaggerated. “Shall we?”

I roll my eyes and do as he says, masking my rising panic with an air of defiance. My voice trembles despite my best efforts. “Why? Because you’re such a gentleman?”

Vin chuckles, nudging me forward with the barrel of the gun. “Not at all. Because he’s fucking pissed, and I promise you when he gets his hands on you—” He lets out a low whistle, his grin widening as he looks at me through his lashes. “You’re in for a world of hurt, princess.”

“Well, I doubt you’ll keep my whereabouts a secret,” I snap, trying to sound braver than I feel. “So how exactly am I lucky?”

Vin prods me in the back with the gun to make me quicken my pace. “Because at least he’ll have a minute to calm down first. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.”

“I don’t like him, period.” I flush, trying to stay composed.

Vin doesn’t respond, his silence heavier than his mocking words.

As we approach the room I’ve been staying in, a sinking dread spreads across my chest, compressing my lungs and making it hard to breathe. I’m back where I started, with no plan and no escape.

When Vin doesn’t say anything, I continue. “If you’re supposed to keep me alive so he can deal with me, then I guess I don’t need to be too worried about that gun,” I say and shoot him a dirty look over my shoulder.

Vin’s voice drops to a growl. “Don’t get any ideas, princess. I’ve got Matti’s back all day, every day, and if what he wants is you, then I’ll do whatever I have to do to make that happen. You might have an extra hole in your body, but you’ll be alive and waiting for him when he’s ready to deal with you.”

Vin kicks the door to the room open from behind me, pressing the gun into my back. “In you go.”

I stumble into the room, and Vin shuts the door behind us, dragging a metal chair to the center of the floor.

“Have a seat,principessa.”

“What? Why?“

Vin scoffs, the humor falling off his face as he gestures impatiently at the chair with his gun. “You’re not really asking ‘why’ are you? Sit the fuck down.”

He levels a glare at me, and I roll my eyes, flopping down in the chair. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But you only have yourself to blame,” he says, crouching to tie my ankle to the chair leg, the knot biting into my skin, tight and unyielding.

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