Page 137 of He Should Be Mine

Because the past tense applies to Rick now. He is nothing more than a blanket covered lump. He no longer exists.

Dario’s brows furrow. “I never thought of him like that.”

I gulp down some tea. It has a ton of sugar in it. Perfect. I can feel it working its magic and calming me down. As if it is washing the panic out of my blood.

I remember a girl I worked with once said that tea tells you it is over. That you are safe now. And that is how it works. I think she was on to something.

“You didn’t think to tell me any of this?” I hear myself ask. Apparently, some parts of my brain are still functioning.

“It was better you didn’t know.” Dario’s voice is gruff.

I scowl, but I don’t have the wherewithal to muster anger. I’m mostly floating in a daze. Oddly numb, as if this is happening to someone else and I’m merely a bystander.

“So we don’t need to run?” I say, instead of getting angry.

And isn’t that smart of me, to focus on the practicalities? I can be angry at him later. When all of the danger has passed.

“No.”

His expression is calm. Resolute.

I lick my lips. Okay, I suppose I should trust him to have the gangster side covered, it is his world after all. But what about the rest of it?

“What about the gunshot? The neighbors have probably called the police.”

Dario shakes his head. “No one in London knows what a gunshot really sounds like.”

He’s right. It sounded nothing like the sound effects on TV. If I had heard it from a distance, I would have thought nothing of it. The city is a noisy place. Traffic, construction, deliveries unloading. Eight million people going about their lives. It is a constant cacophony of sound.

“Besides,” Dario says. “This is an Ajello building.”

The look in his brown eyes makes me shudder. I can see what he is saying. No one here would dare call the police, and even if anyone was stupid enough to do so, the police would do nothing. The power of the mafia is truly terrifying.

I gulp down some tea.

“So, we are safe?” I whisper.

“Yes.”

“I belong to you now?”

“Yes.”

The delight in his voice sends shivers down my spine. It makes my skin tingle. I think with pleasure, but I’m far too muddled to be able to fully assess my own emotions.

I raise my mug to my lips again. This time I see the faint mist of red on my hand. My heart thuds against my ribcage.

“What if I don’t want to belong to you?” I croak.

A look of sheer and utter devastation sweeps across Dario’s face. His gorgeous eyes fill with more pain than I have ever seen in another person before.

“That would be your choice,” he growls.

He is saying the words, but I’m not convinced he means them.

A shiver races through me and sets off a fresh wave of trembling. The tea sloshes in its mug. But it’s half full now. It won’t spill.

“I did this all for you,” Dario says softly, and it sounds like a plea.