Page 6

“Fuck you,” I spat, my composure cracking. “I have nothing more to say to you. Why don’t you go back crawling to whatever part of hell you came from?”

For once, I spoke the truth. I didn’t wish to see his face for a moment longer and hoped my insults would be enough to make him go back up.

To my surprise, he broke into a half-grin, the kind that made me stop in my tracks. “Oh, sweetheart,” he growled in a low voice, stepping closer as he wrapped a hand around the bars, his face inches away from mine, rendering my heart to flutter from god knows what. “It won’t be me going to hell.”

His sudden proximity sent a shiver down my spine, but I refused to let it show. I squared my shoulders, meeting his intense gaze with defiance. “Are you threatening me?”

He cocked his head, and I watched his jaw clench. That perfect, sculpted jaw. What a waste of good looks, I thought to myself, on a man that evil.

“No,” he clicked his tongue at last. “I’m threatening your brothers for what they did to me. Your role is yet to be ascertained.”

“That’s what you do, isn’t it?” I said without thinking. “Make up stories in your head? Fall in love with a truth that doesn’t exist just to serve your agenda? This organization you’re so proud of—it’s going to fall into the hands of someone like you.”

Then, I saw it. The momentary lapse in his composure. I had struck a nerve, and I realized it. He was trying to prove something. To himself, or someone else, and I rode the coattails of this opportunity to be rid of him.

“That’s right,” I continued. “Just wait until everyone finds out you made a fool of yourself by kidnapping the wrong person. Wait until they all laugh themselves silly when they think of your name.”

That, I thought, was the final blow. I had made it perfectly clear that he’d get nothing more than an argument out of me, and I expected him to walk away.

Needless to say, I scrambled back as the door swung open, and he stepped inside, his presence too large for the cramped cell.

He stopped directly in front of me, so close I could smell his cologne. It made me all heady and shouldn't have been appealing in my current state, but somehow was.

With deliberate slowness, he pulled the door closed—and it automatically clicked shut from the inside.

With both of us trapped in the cell together.

My breath caught. “What are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable.” He removed his suit jacket, folded it with meticulous care, and set it on the edge of my cot.

His shirt, I noticed, clung to his frame like water, highlighting the planes across his broad chest and the hills of his muscular arms. I swallowed hard at the brute strength I knew he was capable of deploying.

He whispered, “We're going to have a long talk, you and I.”

I backed away until I hit the wall. “There's nothing to talk about.”

“There's everything to talk about.” He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar. The casualness of the gesture felt somehow more threatening than overt aggression. “Starting with why the Ajello family planted their sister at my heels, coincidentally right after the attack on our operation.”

“I was out doing chores,” I insisted, hating the defensive note in my voice. “It's not my fault your 'business fronts' are nearby.”

“With Dom by your side?” He raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer, and I inched to the side, stepping away from him. He followed, a predator on a hunt.

“I told you. He’s my bodyguard. Now, if only you could stop asking the same questions over and over again.”

“I’ve done enough research on your family to know that Dom is a precious resource. Why waste him on you?”

I bristled at his tone and my voice came sharp. “My brothers love me,” I said defiantly. “To them, nothing matters more than my safety.”

“Of course,” he clicked his tongue as he drew closer, attempting to plant his arms on either side of me while I pressed my back against the wall. I bent and ducked underneath him, my heart racing as I fled to the opposite side of the room. He turned with a small smile.

“Of course they’d protect you. Their weapon.”

“Never,” I said, hoarsely, feeling tired of the chase. He walked toward me again, and we circled one another. “Like I told you a million times already, my brothers have never involved me in their business.”

He stalked toward me then, moving with the fluid grace of someone who knew exactly how dangerous they were. This time around, I was done running. The cell was only that big, and I was growing tired. I crossed my arms and walked back to my cot, sitting on the edge as I stared up at him.

He looked down at me, glowering.

“Let me explain something,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. “Your brothers crossed some lines. I know you did too.”

“I don’t even know your name,” I snarled in his direction.

He blinked momentarily, confusion spreading across his face.

“One hell of a spy I must have been, huh?” I said with growing confidence. “Spying on a man whose name I don’t even know?”

“Liar,” he growled, shaking his head as his fists clenched slowly, purposefully, by his side, right in my line of sight.

He could have tried to intimidate me all he wanted, but it wouldn’t have worked.

I was used to my brothers acting this way, and I’d grown a rather thick skin.

But there was something about him…that still unnerved me. Something different.

“Think I’m lying all you want. Just make sure your brains don’t fall out from that thinking you’re so busy doing,” I snarled.

“ Everyone in your family is involved in the business.” He was close enough now that I had to crane my neck up to meet his gaze. “Some just pretend better than others.”

I wanted to push him away, to create space between us, but instinct told me touching him would be a mistake. “My brothers protect me from that world.”

“Do they?” His whiskey-colored eyes studied me with unsettling intensity. “Or do they use your apparent innocence as a weapon?”

The accusation stung because it touched on a familiar insecurity—that my brothers saw me as nothing more than a liability, a possession to be sheltered and controlled. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing that.

“You don't know my family,” I said coldly. “And you certainly don't know me.”

“Then enlighten me, Larissa.” My name in his mouth sounded sweet, like nectar I shouldn’t touch. “Tell me what I've misunderstood.”

I lifted my chin. “Release me, and I'll have my brothers explain it to you. Probably with bullets.”

His laugh wasn't amused but appreciative, as if he liked it when I played clever. “I've met women from families like yours before. Trained from birth to appear harmless while being anything but.”

“Is that what happened?” I couldn't resist asking. “Some Mafia princess broke your heart?”

Something dark flashed in his eyes, and he stepped closer, but then realized just how close he was, his hips inches away from my face. My heart raced as I looked up and saw his throat bob. And then, he stepped back, as though he hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten. Good.

“I'm not leaving until you drop the act,” he said, ignoring my question. “Tell me what your brothers are planning, and this can end today.”

“You can stay here all night, and I won’t say a word.”

“Maybe I will.”

I watched in shock as he proceeded to do just that. Hours passed in tense silence. He sat down against the wall opposite my cot and watched me with unnerving patience.

We remained locked in our stubborn standoff. I sat with my back against the backrest and watched him right back, refusing to let him know how unnerved I was. My legs ached from the hardness of the mattress. My stomach growled audibly. Thirst made my tongue feel swollen.

As if reading my mind, he stood and picked up the untouched water bottle and broke the seal. He took a small sip, then offered it to me. “See? Not poisoned.”

My throat constricted with need, but I shook my head. He sighed and shrugged, before settling back against the wall.

“My name’s Gio. Giovanni,” he said after another hour of silence.

His name. He offered me his name. Why? Our eyes met, and I gave the briefest nod, acknowledging the kindness, though did not question it further.

But he ruined it when he said. “You knew that, though, didn’t you? It had to be a lie when you said you didn’t know my name.”

I rolled my eyes and looked away, not dignifying his words with a response. When I caught his eye again, I thought I caught him half-smiling.

The silence stretched between us, thick with hostility.

But also, a current of awareness that made the small cell feel even more confining.

When my brothers tried to intimidate me, it never felt like this.

This was different. Charged. Dangerous in ways that had nothing to do with the threat of physical harm.

My eyelids grew heavy as exhaustion overtook adrenaline. I fought it, pinching my arm, blinking away the sleep. I wouldn't sleep with him here.

He noticed my struggle. “Stubbornness won't change your situation.”

“Neither will cooperation, I suspect,” I muttered.

Another hour passed. My body betrayed me with a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Sleep,” he said, his voice softer than before. “I'll still be here when you wake.”

That was precisely what I feared. I didn’t respond and tried to stay awake.

My head nodded, jerking up again as I caught myself drifting.

Maybe if I lay down, I could stay awake, but it could help with the fatigue.

I stretched out on the thin mattress, my body betraying me with relief at finally lying down.

I told myself I would just rest my eyes for a moment. Just a moment...

I woke to absolute darkness. The soft lightbulb that had tormented me with its constant flickering was off, plunging the cell into a blackness so complete I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. Panic seized my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs, and I sat up in bed.

“Hello?” My voice emerged as a frightened whisper.

“I'm still here.” Giovanni's voice came from somewhere to my right, steady and calm.

I hated that his presence reassured me. “The light—”

“Power fluctuation. It happens in basements this old.”

I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest, trying to control my breathing. In the darkness, memories crowded close— memories I never wanted.

“You're afraid.” It wasn't a question.

“I'm not.” The denial was automatic, but my voice shook, betraying me.

I heard him move, felt the cot dip as he sat beside me. Not touching, but close enough that I could feel his body heat.

“Everyone fears something,” he said quietly.

“I said I’m not afraid,” I said, moving to the other edge of the bed, away from him.

“Right,” he said, in a tone that told me he thought otherwise.