Page 4 of Debt to the Mafia King

Definitely not sturdy enough for what I was imagining. Straightening, I headed back toward the tiny living space. There was nothing of interest in her bedroom, not when she wasn’t here anyway, plus, she would be home soon, and I wanted to be ready when she was.

The thought of seeing the fear flicker into her eyes was almost as intoxicating as the images in my mind of her lying on the bed waiting for me to unwrap her like a damn Christmas present.

And what a present it would be.

The thought made me smile. Christmas wasn’t actually that far away, so maybe I would get my wish. No, that wasn’t right.

I always got my wish.

I glanced around the rundown apartment and couldn’t imagine anyone living here, let alone a girl as pretty as Leah, but it did give me an advantage.

She wouldn’t have the money—

The sound of a key sliding into the lock and turning pulled my attention back to reality. I fell into the armchair tucked in the corner. It was still pretty dark in here, but she would see me the second she walked in and flicked on the light.

Only she didn’t turn on the light. She moved into the apartment quietly, on autopilot. Shrugging off her jacket, she hung it on a peg.

“Hello Printsessa.”

She froze, only one sneaker kicked off, and turned to me slowly. “W-what?

I heard her swallow hard in the darkness. Clearly, she had recognized my voice.

“I thought it would be easier to talk here in private rather than at your place of employment.”

The words had barely left my mouth, and she was running. There wasn’t far to run, but she didn’t have a chance of escaping anyway. I was fast, and her reaction was expected.

I caught her a second before her hand touched the lock and spun her around. Her back hit the flimsy wood door with a low thump, and I trapped heragainst it.

“Now, now, Printsessa.” The urge to grind into her trembling body was almost overwhelming, but she was such a tiny thing. Much smaller than she had looked at the gas station. Maybe it was because she was in such a vulnerable position. A position I liked.

A position I fucking loved.

“Running is such a rude thing to do, don’t you think?” Leaning into her, I tilted her chin up high. Forcing her to look at me. “After all, we are just talking.”

She met my dark eyes with her pale ones and didn’t look away. Bully for her. She had some fire in that tight little body of hers. I kind of liked that.

“You broke into my house.” She spat.

Oh, my mouth broke into a wide smile. She had more than a little fire. It filled her eyes. I didn’t know what I wanted more, to make it blaze or to dim it.

“I simply unlocked your door, Leah-Anne.” Absently, I reached for her cheek. Smothering my fingers across it and pushing a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. Her trembling increased.

Was she scared or—

My eyes darted to hers. Yes, she was afraid, but there was something else in their pale depths as well. It was almost like she was kind of enjoying me touching her.

Was loss of control something that did it for her? It was an intriguing prospect, and one I was more than willing to explore. There was no doubt in my mind that I could make her tremble in other ways.

“No one calls me Leah-Anne. My friends call me—”

Dropping my hand to her throat, I curled my hand around it. Not squeezing but applying gentle pressure. She froze. Every muscle tensed.

“Are we friends, Leah?”

Wide blue eyes met mine and blinked slowly. “What do you want?”

Chuckling, I stepped back. She didn’t realize it, but that was a loaded question. I had been watching her because I wanted what wasowed to me, but now that I had seen her and had felt how soft her skin was and how she trembled when I touched her.