Page 51 of Don’t Hate Me (Secrets of Ravens Hollow #2)

Orlando’s massive frame encircles me as he moves behind me, his powerful arms wrapping tightly around my torso, his breath warm against my earlobe.

“Be a good girl and no one else has to get hurt.” His words eat away at me like acid.

His voice has a cruel edge to it that I know isn’t the real him. Not the man I got to know, anyway.

“Never,” I seethe. He thinks he had me fooled, wrapped around his little finger all because he gave me a few good orgasms. Fuck that.

One of his hands snakes around my throat, his fingers slowly tightening.

My breath catches in my chest, and I suck in slow deliberate breaths. “What are you going to do, strangle me because daddy told you to? Fuck you.”

“Sloane, do as you’re told,” I hear Onyx’s desperate plea for me to get on board with the rest of them and fall under Emilio’s instructions.

I feel Orlando’s teeth graze against my earlobe. “Don’t push me, treasure, you have no idea what I’m really capable of.” His hand tightens.

My lungs burn with each strangled breath I suck in. The men and the jetty in front of me blur, and my body feels light and detached. Like I’m floating. I think I am, his brutal hold on me lifting me off the solid wood.

A look of satisfaction crosses Emilio’s face as his son’s power over me becomes clear.

Reef’s eyes meet with mine, and I see how badly he wants to help, but the bodyguard standing at his side is stopping him from moving toward me with a gun pointed at his forehead. “Wildcat, do what he says,” he mutters desperately.

My fingernails dig into the skin of his hand so deep I know I’m drawing blood, but I don’t stop. I keep struggling against him until I can’t anymore.

“Enough!” Emilio bellows.

Orlando’s grip loosens, and with a jarring thud, I hit the unforgiving ground. Desperately I grip at my throat, trying to gasp in breaths, glaring up at Orlando.

His eyes, cold and lifeless, hateful even, are like a punch to my gut, sending a fresh wave of agonizing pain constricting my chest, worse than any injury he could inflict with his hands. I would prefer to be strangled to death at his hand than to know what we had was a lie.

Emilio extends his hand toward me. “Join me on my yacht, darling, we have some very important business to discuss.”

My heart races frantically as I stare up at him. Business?

“Take my papa’s hand, treasure,” Orlando growls when I haven’t moved a muscle to follow his papa’s orders. I feel his hand on my shoulder pushing me to stand, but I flinch away from him. Fuck him for thinking he can touch me.

I suck in a deep breath, my eyes meeting with Emilio’s, my glare telling him not to fuck with me. With my heart in my throat, I tentatively take his papa’s hand and let him pull me up to standing on shaky legs. His fingers are rough on mine, squeezing mine more firmly than necessary.

With a quick tug, he guides me past his guards, past Reef, Onyx, and Romeo whose faces say it all.

I’m fucked. We all are. He stands back and lets me enter the boat first then follows me through, guiding me toward a polished wooden table in a room at the center of the gently rocking boat.

He looks down his nose at me and gestures for me to sit in the booth.

I comply, collapsing into the leather seat, because at this point, what other choice do I have?

He takes a seat on the opposite side, and his guards move into the room, watching me with faces like steel. He clicks his fingers and just like that a woman appears in a pencil skirt and fitted bodice. “What’s your drink of choice?” he asks.

“Whiskey,” I croak, hating that my voice sounds like shit when I want to sound strong.

“Good choice. Three whiskeys, darling,” he says in the woman’s direction.

She nods and smiles at me then wanders away.

He watches her go, the filthy bugger’s eyes watching her every step, before he turns his attention to me.

His steely eyes rake over me, his lips forming a thin line that twists up ever so slightly in a way that makes me cringe.

“I can see why they’re obsessed with you; you’re a very beautiful girl.

Good genetics, porcelain skin, hair like silk, eyes that captivate. You would look good at their side.”

I don’t say anything back. I can’t. What do you say to the man who killed your mother?

My hand curls around my knife, grasping it so damn tightly, and a visual of me leaping across the table and finally taking care of this fucker once and for all springs to mind.

I could do it. I would be shot by his guards almost instantly, but if I killed him first, it would be worth it.

But Romeo’s words from earlier echo in my head.

He dies, we’re all fucked. I don’t know what it means, but I could hear the truth in his voice, and I wouldn’t want any of them to be hurt because of me.

I know there is more to this situation, or the two of them wouldn’t be complying with him either.

At least I don’t think they would be. Could I have gotten them so wrong?

They do have Moretti blood running through their veins, and the man who just strangled the air right out of my lungs isn’t anyone I know.

I glance over my shoulder and out the window to find Reef, Romeo, and Onyx all huddled together in deep conversation.

And I know without a shadow of a doubt, they hate this vile human sitting across from me.

I can see the pain etched into Romeo’s face, the fear in Reef’s eyes, and the detestation coursing through Onyx’s tense body.

Orlando slides into the seat beside me, his posture stiff.

His face is a cold mask that I can’t make sense of.

Bruises mark his skin, a black eye, what looks like a broken nose, and a fresh cut along his cheekbone.

His eyes are sunken, and he looks like he hasn’t slept since he left this place.

His dark suit, though, is impeccable and fits him to perfection, making him look every bit the son of a don.

It’s an unsettling sight when I know how hard he fought to hide away from this life.

When I see him like this, I can see he was made for it. This life fits him like a glove.

His papa gives a small, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment to his son as our drinks arrive.

I glance down into the glass. I would kill for a drink right now, but who knows what’s been put in this.

That pretty little server who’s working for him could have spiked it. Easy way to rid him of me.

Orlando collects his glass and throws back the amber liquid, then slams his glass back on the table and motions for her to top it up again.

Emilio sips at his drink slowly, and his eyes find me again, their intensity making my heart race. He scans my face, lingering on each feature for way longer than he should, as a slow smile stretches across his lips. “Those eyes. It’s like looking at your mother. Takes me back years.”

Goosebumps erupt over my skin. I suck in a sharp breath, my fists clenched tight at my sides, knuckles white. Ready for a fight. How fucking dare he talk about her.

Emilio lets out a chuckle that says more than any words could.

He’s a sick son of a bitch. “She was so convinced she would never have a little girl. For years I think the fear stopped her from even conceiving. But I kept my eyes on your family, knowing that it was only a matter of time before I got what I was owed. Then you arrived, and your poor mother knew you would never really be one of them, a Kingsley, because from the moment you were born you belonged to us. To my son. To the Morettis.” He sucks in a breath, and it’s then I hear the wheeze in his chest. Maybe he is sick like the boys said, but to look at you can’t tell.

“Your father was a very smart man, but he thought he was above our organization. That his precious little daughter was too good for my son. He learned the hard way that I have control over it all.” His cruel chuckle is deep and vibrates through the cabin in a way that makes my skin crawl and hate seep deeper into my veins.

I’m going to make this man pay, I don’t fucking know how, but as I sit here across from him, I know it.

“Your mother knew how dangerous I really was, that’s why she got you out of there.

Growing up in that seedy club is better than the fate that was promised to you.

Or maybe she didn’t know what Katrina Stryker was involved in when she gave you away.

” He tilts his head to the side as if he’s trying to get a reaction out of me, like he wants to see my pain.

But I won’t show him any of it. I keep staring at him, my face a mask of deadly seriousness, my eyes narrowed, and lips pressed into a thin line.

“We will never know. Not even Syd realized who you were until I came for you that night. He signed you over to us so fucking fast, he thought it would save her. But Katrina had sealed her fate the day she agreed to take you as her own.”

Adrenaline surges through me. I try to control my breathing, but it’s no use. My body moves without me controlling it, and I fly across the table at him, my knife out, ready to inflict whatever damage I can.

Too quick for my clumsy attempt, Orlando’s hand shoots out, flinging the knife into the far corner of the room.

With iron strength, he forces me back into my seat as I struggle against him.

I feel the full force of his weight, and his eyes are locked on mine, burning with rage, his breath a harsh, uncontrolled torrent.

I buck against him. “Let me fucking go, asshole,” I spit back at him like a fucking crazy person, but that’s what he’s reduced me to.

Emilio clears his throat and straightens his tie. His bodyguards move in beside him, looking deadly with their hands already on their guns.