Page 126 of Dangerous Intent

“Please don’t do this,” I said.

“The bitch can say please.” He lifted me onto the cool counter, gripped my throat, and shoved me onto my back. “The time to play nice was months ago.”

With me still in his firm hold, he unbuckled his belt with his free hand.

“Instead, you fled with the enemy, and now your father is dead.”

“Stop it.” I kicked at him. “Get away from me.”

I thrashed and threw my hands back, knocking over the decorative plates on display behind me as I reached for something—anything—to stun him enough to get away. I booted him hard in the ribs, and he released my throat, but he recovered too fast.

“All this fire makes me so hard.” He flipped me onto my stomach, giving me a better vantage point of what I had to work with.

The butcher block filled with knives was almost in my grasp. I only needed one.

“I’m going to take my time though,” he said. “Fuck you slow and make you feel every inch of me. You’re going to like it.”

I clawed at the counter, stretching out my body as he clasped the sides of my panties. I lengthened my arms, dragging myself closer to the target while he busied himself with undressing me.

My fingers skimmed the edge of the counter but I managed to snatch a plate, then flailing my hand back, I hit him in the side of the face.

“Fuck!” He loosened his hold on me just enough to give me an advantage.

I jerked a knife from the butcher block, but fumbled with it in my haste.

No.If I dropped it, my fight would be over.

I wrapped my hand around the handle.

“We’re done playing games.” He turned me over and stepped between my legs, clearly unaware that I was now armed.

I had stopped trembling the moment I gained the upper hand. No more fear, no more being this pig’s victim. Adrenaline coursed through my system, lighting me up and giving me the courage to save myself.

You might only get one shot to protect yourself, so use it wisely.Marchello’s words propelled me to continue.

“I’m taking what belonged to me first, then I’m dropping you off to your new captor, where life as you knew it will be over.” He laughed as he slid my panties down to my ankles and grabbed my thigh. “Brace yourself, baby, this is going to hurt.”

“Not as much as this will.”

The knife was cold in my hand, its weight foreign but grounding. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t running or begging for someone else to save me. This time, I was the one who would end it. Not for my father, and not even for Marchello. This was for me.

I drew back my hand, and Danny’s eyes widened before I pierced his neck with one quick blow.

He pulled at my hand, but I would not relent as the warm blood gushed down my hand and dripped across my face and chest.

He coughed, splattering more blood onto my face.

I turned my head as he collapsed on top of me.

Dry heaving, I pushed him off me, and his heavy, lifeless body hit the pristine white tiles with a thud. As the blood pooled around him, I pulled up my panties, still clutching the knife, waiting for him to come at me again.

He didn’t.

Blood was everywhere—on my hands, on my face, and seeping into the cracks of the tiles.

I fell in my haste to get away, hitting the floor next to him. My chest heaved as I crawled away from him, and my knees slithered in the sticky puddle beneath me. I wanted to scream, to cry, but all that came out was a ragged gasp.

I’d won. So why did it feel like I’d lost?