Page 44 of Taken By the Mafia King
I smirked, shoving her against the wall. “You owe me a new lock, then.”
She curled her lip over her teeth in a sneer that would have brought the average man to his knees, but I found the whole situation incredibly amusing. I didn’t laugh often, but I wanted to laugh now.
“I think you’ve had enough excitement tonight.” I pulled her into the hallway and took her upstairs. She fought against my grip the entire time, probably wishing she would’ve just gone with her initial idea and attempted to escape.
I was impressed, if not thoroughly enjoying the show she was putting on. With each passing day she seemed to grow bolder. Hell, maybe if I held on to her long enough, she’d have the guts to face down her father. If I could even call him that anymore.He was more of a handler. A fucking pimp. If she had any idea what he’d done…
I tossed her into her room and lingered in the doorway.
“Don’t lock me in here again.” She rounded on me with her fists clenched. “I’ll rip the door down. I won’t stop trying to get out.”
I leaned on the doorframe, smiling as her eyes flashed with fury and determination. “If you can get past me, you can go free.”
She stilled, eyes wide. “What?”
“If you can get past me and into the hallway, I’ll let you go.”
Her shoulders drooped for a fraction of a second before she squared them and puffed out her chest. She rushed me without a second thought, her teeth bared as she threw her weight against me.
I barely had to touch her to send her tumbling back onto the carpet. She landed with awhuffas the air was knocked out of her lungs. Her feet were splayed, the sole of her sneakers flat upon the carpet, her hands planted behind her. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and glared up at me.
“Try again,” I commanded.
Sera scrambled to her feet and rolled up her sleeves to her elbows. She bent at the knees, and I wondered what sort of monologue played in her head as she prepared to “take me down.” When she set her jaw in determination, I knew she was about to pounce, and she made her move with predictability, trying to take me out around the waist, probably a tactic she’d learned in gym class when she was fourteen and taking an outdated self-defense class. Those classes were useless against men like me.
This went on three more times before I caught her by the wrist and backed her into the room, shutting the door behind me. “Sorry,” I mused, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Better luck next time,mia cara.”
She leaned out of the touch and wrenched her arm free.
“You have my father in this house somewhere, Killian. What do I have to do to ensure he doesn’t get killed?”
“Are you so sure I have him?”
“I heard you talking about it downstairs!”
“When you were trying to escape?”
She bit her lip, her eyes darkening as she took a step away from me.
“Ah, so that’s what you were planning to do. You could have done it, Sera. I’m not sure how far you would have made it, but you could have tried. I’m disappointed in you.”
“Why?”
“Because you wasted a perfectly good opportunity to save yourself, all for a man who doesn’t care about you.” I should have regretted my harsh words, but it was the truth. She just didn’t know it yet. “Relax, Princess,” I taunted, taking a step toward her. “I won’t kill him unless I get the opportunity to.”
She inhaled, glaring at me, but something about the statement seemed to calm her down a bit.
I gave her a short, tight smile before turning toward the door. I couldn’t deal with her games tonight, not when I had one man on bedrest and one chopping up a rat in my basement.
“I’m sorry I disgust you.”
I halted mid step and turned around, my eyes fixed on hers. So, she’d caught that. I’d been talking about Delaney, of course. Sera didn’t need to know that. I said nothing but watched a torrent of emotions play over her beautiful face.
“If I’m so vulgar, why did you kiss me?”
“Are you baiting me,tesoro?” I breathed, taking a step in her direction. Treasure. I’d been calling her that, or my dear, for several days now. She didn’t flinch at the affirmations like she had when I’d called herbella.
But she absently pressed a hand to her chest, her thumb sliding over her forefinger. I’d seen her do that before on multiple occasions. It was like she was seeking something that was missing, a necklace perhaps, or even a rosary.
