Page 47 of Malicious Claim

I turned my head to see the tall figure who was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, amusement written all over his stupidly handsome face.

Stefanos Crete.

The infamous cousin. The lady's man. The womanizer. The man who could talk his way out of a gunfight and straight into a woman's bed.

"What have you done to piss my cousin off this time?" Stefanos asked, casually stepping inside the room like it belonged to him.

I scoffed, adjusting slightly in my constricted position. The chain rattled again. "When is he never pissed?"

Stefanos grinned, strolling closer. He pulled up a chair and sat backward on it, arms resting against the backrest. "Fair point." His sharp gaze swept over me, lingering on the chain. "This is new. Even for Makros."

I lifted my chin. "Should I be flattered?"

Stefanos chuckled. "Depends. If he went through the trouble of handcuffing you, you either tried to kill him, or you broke his heart."

I snorted. "The bastard is heartless."

Stefanos mouth stretched into a toothed grin. "Well, that's debatable."

An uncomfortable silence passed between us but he broke it with a question. "You really hate him, don't you?"

I met his gaze, unflinching. "With every fiber of my being."

Stefanos hummed, resting his chin on his forearm. "Yet, he keeps you close."

"Like I'm one of his possessions," I snapped. "Not a person."

His grin turned into something unreadable. "Maybe. Or perhaps you matter more than he cares to admit."

I rolled my eyes. "Spare me the psychoanalysis. I hate Makros. I hate all of you Cretes, down to the yet unborn generation."

Stefanos tsked. "That's a shame."

A corner of my mouth twitched. "Why? Do you think I'd make an exception for you?"

His expression turned wicked. "Well, now that you talked about it..."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "It's true what they say. You really can't help yourself, can you?"

"Ah, please, please, it's a disease."

This time, I actually laughed from my stomach. Not because I found him cute, but because of how ridiculous this conversation was turning out to be.

Here I was, chained to a bed by his psychopathic cousin, and Stefanos was flirting with me. But then again, he was Stefanos Crete.

I'd heard all about him even in America. He made women swoon with only a few words. He was someone who never took anything too seriously. It was almost infuriating how easy he was to talk to.

I cocked my head to the side, watching him. Under different circumstances... Nope. That was a dangerous thought. I shouldn't.

Stefanos leaned closer. "You know, if you ever get tired of fighting with my cousin, there are better ways you could handle him."

I let out an exaggerated gasp. "Are you proposing strategies to me?"

"I'm just saying," he paused. "If you want to really piss him off, I am right here."

An idea suddenly flashed before me.

Makros wanted to control me. To own me. He expected my resistance but never truly considered that I could fight him in ways he would never anticipate.

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