Page 55 of Love Me in the Dark

This makes Remus bark out a loud laugh. “Christ,” he murmurs. When he’s done laughing, he kicks out the chair opposite him, indicating for me to sit down. While I do just that, he pours whiskey into two glasses, offering me one. “To the best laid plan.”

Flashing him a smile, I empty the glass, letting the whiskey burn down my throat. “If you have a problem with it, you only have yourself to blame,” I grin. “Aren’t you the one who manipulated our cousin Lucia in similar ways?”

Remus chuckles. “Manipulate is such an ugly word. I merely set the stage, she’s the one who insisted on playing the lead role.”

Before I know it, I’m sitting down and we talk about our family, especially those who aren’t part of it anymore. Mostthrough death. In fact, all but one due to death. Lucia is the only one to gain her freedom completely.

“I should visit her,” I say. “She’s in Minneapolis with her husband Sawyer, right?”

“She is,” Remus confirms. “But she doesn’t want to see any of us, and I gave my word. She’s free.”

I already knew this, but there’s no shame in trying. I wouldn’t mind seeing her again, but it’s not like I blame her for choosing a path away from the family.

“Tell me something,” Remus says when we’re done reminiscing about family. “Does she even know how long you’ve waited to claim her?”

I shrug. “I don’t think she remembers me.”

While Alina’s mom was alive, the bakery was thriving and we often went there for baked goods. Back then, Alina was a lot less troubled, and she actually had a social life. Her boyfriend at the time liked getting handsy, something she wasn’t up for in public.

One night while they were in one of our clubs, I kicked his ass to the curb for making her cry. And I don’t regret it one bit. That was three years ago, when she’d just turned twenty-one.

That night my obsession was born, and every day since, it’s been watered whenever I’m in her presence. So when her dad needed money, I grabbed the opportunity. Not that he cared who he signed his daughter’s life away to. Since his wife died, he never cared much about anything.

Itching to get back to the woman who dominates my every thought, I say goodbye to Remus and return to where I left Alina.

Stepping back into the grand hall, I find Alina still standing where I left her—a testament to her quiet defiance. Enzo smirks, tauntingly remarking, “She’s been a good girl.”

My growl is instinctive, a menacing warning that Alina is off-limits, even to my closest friend. Enzo’s eyes widen slightly, but he says nothing, stepping aside as I guide Alina toward the exit.

Her silence is heavy, filled with questions and uncertainties. Yet she doesn’t ask them, her pride refusing to give me the satisfaction. Instead, she stands tall, her back straight and her chin lifted—a warrior ready for battle.

“We’re going out to eat,” I tell her, my fingers brushing against her lower back as I lead her to the car. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a hunger that I struggle to control.

“Where?” she finally asks, her voice barely a whisper.

“Does it matter?” I counter, unable to resist the urge to test her limits. Her jaw tightens, but she remains silent, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and curiosity. It’s a dangerous combination, one that could either save her or destroy us both.

The drive to the restaurant is tense and silent, each passing moment adding another layer of unspoken desires and fears. When we finally arrive, the atmosphere is charged, the air between us thick with anticipation.

I can’t help but watch as she exits the car, her hips swaying seductively with each step. The sight sends a rush of heat through me, my body reacting to her presence like a moth drawn to a flame.

The hushed atmosphere of the luxurious Russo-owned restaurant envelops us as we slide into a private booth, hidden from prying eyes. The dim lighting casts shadows that dance across Alina’s face, highlighting her alluring features and turning her hazel eyes into a mesmerizing abyss. I watch her, my fingers itching to trace the curve of her jaw, but I resist—for now.

I lean closer so that our lips are just inches apart. “If I told you to suck my cock under this table, would you do it?” I ask, genuinely curious about her answer.

Her eyes flicker with defiance, and she raises her chin, refusing to be intimidated. “For this week only, Rafe, I’ll doanything you command,” she says, her voice low and steady. “So, is that an order?”

I can’t help but smirk at her determination. My fingers reach up to toy with the collar around her neck, a symbol of both her submission and my undeniable claim on her. As I brush my lips against her jaw, I find myself intoxicated by her scent—warm and sweet, like freshly baked bread.

“Perhaps not tonight,” I concede, though my body throbs with desire.

Sitting back, I let the silence stretch between us, allowing the tension to build as we lock eyes, neither one willing to look away. She may be mine for the week, but there’s no doubt in my mind that this game we’re playing is far from over. And as the night unfolds, I find myself anticipating each move with a hunger that borders on obsession.

As the waiter comes over to us, I say, “I’ll order for us.” As much as she’d like to assert control in this situation, I know what’s best for her.

She raises a questioning eyebrow. “Umm, there are things I can’t?—”

“I know all about your allergies,” I say, interrupting her. “We’ll have the filet mignon and a bottle of white wine.”