Page 14 of Power
Fear licks at the edges of my anger, but I shove it down. I can’t afford to let him see it.
“I said I want to speak to my husband, right now!”
He cocks his head, like my request is nothing more than a joke, and I realize—he is never going to take me seriously. Kidnapped victims don’t get choices. They don’t get to speak. But then again, I’m not like anyone else.
He moves past me, claiming the space. The door stays slightly ajar—a taunt, a test. Run, and I might make it a few steps before someone outside puts a bullet in my skull. He knows it. I know it.
"You wanna know why you're still breathing?"
I swallow, my throat dry, but I don’t look away.
"Because, whether I like it or not, you matter to someone. If you didn’t, you’d just be another loose end." He leans in slightly. "And we both know how people handle loose ends."
“Help! Someone, please help me!”
“You should stop screaming.” His voice is calm. “No one can hear you.”
My skin prickles. “You can’t keep me here.”
“Can’t I?”
“This is illegal. You can’t just—”
He chuckles, and a depraved part of me wants to hear it again. “Illegal?” He steps closer, and suddenly my mind feels like it’s short-circuiting. Are his eyes supposed to be this brown?Rich and deep, like spilled coffee, dark enough to swallow me whole. His lips are full, the kind of lips that could make any woman forget her name, and I catch myself wondering what they’d feel like against mine.
What the hell?
His lashes flicker as he stares at me, eyes lingering like a touch, dragging me closer to something I don’t want. The longer he holds my eyes, the harder it is to keep my thoughts clear. Every inch of him pulls at me, like fine wine, rich and intoxicating, and suddenly, all I can think about is how badly I want him to touch me.
Shit. Hell, no. This can’t be happening.
I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts away, but his presence is somewhat enchanting, pressing in on me.
He’s still talking, but I’m barely listening. “Tell me, who exactly do you think is going to arrest me?”
I glare up at him. “You are committing a crime.”
He shrugs. “Depends on how you look at it, Vittoria.”
“You know my name, yet I don’t know anything about you.”
His smile makes him look dangerous in a kind of animalistic way, enough for me to second-guess my words. Do I even want to know his name?
He’s still watching me with that unreadable expression, like he’s weighing the worth of every breath I take.
“You’re going to be here for a while, so I suggest you save your breath,” he says, ignoring my question.
His statement is like it’s already been decided. Like, I don’t get a say.
Rage boils over. I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. He might as well be carved from stone.
“You’re a monster. Fuck you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Not tonight.”
Before I can react, he grips my wrist and spins me around.
My back hits the mattress before I can scramble up, and then he’s on me, pinning me down.
