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Shivering, I felt my body break into a cold sweat. When Remo touched me it was like he was touching something that was made, something that wasn't living and breathing.

Then I remembered what it felt like to have Dante's hands on my flesh, what it felt like to feel his lips touch my neck, and his hands caress me with a tender and rough need. One stroke and I was on fire, his touch could turn me into ashes.

That was what I wanted to remember, that was what I wanted to burn into my memories to help me go on.

He would always have me, even after I changed hands. Nothing would ever stop me from being his.

I belonged to Dante Pisani and I was going to make sure Remo knew that.

I felt the door shut softly, the sound of feet followed, tapping against hard ground. There wasn't the rustle of grains of sand or tiny chirp of rocks clinking together as they were shuffled around.

Are we here?

Staying still, I waited for more sounds. But it grew quiet for what seemed like minutes. A voice came from someplace further away than the car, the words all muffled and blended together in one drawn out sound.

Who's talking? Who's out there?

Fuck! I don't like this!

Curiosity was a killer in itself . . . And curiosity was holding my lungs stagnant.

Straining, I tilted my head up, pushing my ear against the side of the trunk. I could still hear the voice, but it was only one. No one else was talking back.

Are we waiting?

Is Remo not here and on his way?

Or is Dante just listening to orders being given by some other man?

I hated this the most. The between time, where I was left in the dark, alone, having to figure out what was being played out around me.

The voice had stopped, and I heard the gentle feet again. Metal sparked against the back of the trunk, filling the lock. It was another hungry stomach being fed its dinner and I was in the belly of the beast.

The lock clunked, a shimmer of daylight slipped through the crack as the lid was lifted with deadly slowness. The sun glared down on me, burning into my eyes and blinding me.

Holding up my cuffed hands in front of my face, I blinked rapidly to try and get my vision back.

A large, dark figure leaned in, turning the sun into a forgotten fire. His face flickered between smiles and uncertainty. Dante held out his hand, palm open flat and offering me one more touch of the only man I've ever truly wanted.

“Come on.” His words were encouraging, laced with strength and conviction.

Staying silent, I took his fingers in mine and let him pull me up. Looking around, we were parked in an empty parking lot. I felt confused and scared. I didn't see Remo and that made me happy.

But the anxiety of when his devilish face would appear sat in the front of my mind, searing my brain with sharp pins and deadly needles.

“It's alright, come on out, we're alone.”

“But for how long?” I asked, throwing my feet over the edge of the trunk. Searching his face, there was something different about him.

He looked relaxed, comfortable, not nearly as agitated as he was when we had left the house.

“Forever, Ivy.” His fingers brushed the trim of my bangs, pushing them away from my face. A delicate smile rested against his cheeks as his eyes darted between mine.

“What the hell are you talking about? Remo's not coming? Did he decide I wasn't worth it?”

“No.” Shaking his head, Dante's thumb curved down my jawline, cupping my chin with his massive hand. “I decided you were worth it.”

“Wa . . . Wait, what? What do you mean?” Twisting my head over my shoulder, I scanned the small parking lot. “I don't trust this, it doesn't feel right.”