Page 44 of The Diávolos: Part One
I needed to know that she was no longer sleeping with him, and if she still had any feelings for him. The only reason he is still alive is because he’s not fucking with what belongs to me.
In the midst of my jealousy, I called her mine. I saw the look of confusion on her face, and for a fraction of a second, her features softened. But her anger resurfaced faster than a speeding bullet.
I don’t give a shit if she’s mad at me. She needs to know no other man is allowed to touch her now that I’m in the picture, whether she likes it or not. And by wearing the earringsIbought her, it’s clear that she subconsciously knows I own her.
She just hasn’t admitted it yet.
Before driving off, I reach in the back seat and grab a black scarf. Angelica notices the piece of fabric in my hands and her body freezes. “What–what are you planning on doing with that?” she asks, warily.
I play with the silk between my fingers. Her fear fuels me. I want more. “Close your eyes,” I order.
She shakes her head. “No, please,” she begs. It’s getting harder to deny her. The more she begs, the more I want to give her everything she desires. She might be the one at my mercy now, but she doesn’t know the lengths I would go for her. It’s immeasurable.
“Turn around and close your eyes, Angelica. I’m not going to ask again.”
She obliges and I tie the scarf around her eyes. I can’t take my mask off until she’s blinded. It’s not time for her to find out my identity just yet. Plus, where I’m taking her is a surprise.
“Give me your hands,” I demand once I’m content with the placement of the covering. She doesn’t argue this time and I tie her wrists together with a piece of rope that I pull out of the glove compartment. I can’t risk her taking the scarf off while I’m driving. Though, I wish I were tying her up to my bed right now.Soon enough.
A little whimper escapes her lips when she realizes she has no way of escaping.
“Shhhh, my angel. You’re safe with me,” I whisper, as I let the back of my hand trace the outlines of her face. She slightly flinches at the touch.
“Where are we going?” she asks, her voice sounding defeated.
“Home.” Little does she know; she’s coming home with me.
I park my car in the underground parking, and I help Angelica out of the car. Her black gown is covered in dirt and grass, courtesy of her little attempt to escape. But she still looks heavenly. I bend down and slip her stilettos back on because I’m fucking Prince Charming and she is my Cinderella.Who says I can’t be a gentleman?
I grab her wrists and yank her out of the passenger seat, bringing her flush to my chest. Her sweet rose and peony scent clings to my nose and tears are still flowing down her cheeks.
“You look beautiful when you cry for me,angeloúdi mou,” I say. Angelica stills before jerking her hands out of mine.
She tries to push me away, and I can’t help but smile at her feistiness.
“What did you just call me?” she asks, her tone distraught.
Before she even notices how close I am, I press myself to her. She immediately steps back and her body tenses, goosebumps exploding all over her skin.
“My little angel,” I reply, murmuring the words into her neck. “And you better not shove me away again.”
“Why do you torment me?” Angelica retorts in a shaky voice. She turns away and I grab her by the arms.
“Because I love seeing how much you want me,” I whisper in her hair.
“I don’t want you,” she breathes.
“Try to convince me otherwise, sweetheart, because your mind and body aren’t on the same page.” I let the back of my fingers trail down her arms slowly and her breath stutters to a stop. “I see the way your body calls out for me.” My hands slip away, but she says nothing.
A car turns into the parking lot, so I lead her to the side and urge her to walk. “Come on.” I grab her by the wrist and pull her behind me toward the door.
We walk into the building and the concierge greets us without lifting his eyes.Smart man. What you don’t know won’t hurt you.We hurry into the elevator. Surprisingly, Angelica is being cooperative. I think it might be out of fear. I like that. When we walk into my apartment, she stands at the entrance, unmoving. I guide her to my bedroom and place her at the edge of the bed. “Sit.”
“Or what?” she taunts.There’s my firecracker.My dick twitches at her snarkiness.
“Do you really want to do this again, angel? Did you not learn your lesson earlier? You won’t get very far this time,” I reply, teasingly.
Angelica sits down, reluctantly. “Who are you?” she asks under her breath. I don’t respond. “I’m sick of you trying to control me. You have no power over me,” she cries out as she tries to wiggle her hands out of the rope. I catch them and hold on to her wrists.
