Page 6 of Malicious Claim

She turned the corner then, spitting on him. “Go to hell.”

Something in his expression shifted. The humor left his face, replaced with something sinister.

Then, as casually as if he were discussing the weather, he said, “Marry me.”

Leila went still.

For a second, she thought she'd misheard.

Then the words clicked, and a violent shudder wracked her frame.

“What?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“No, I haven't.”

“You killed my family,” she seethed. “And now you–”

“I think,” he cut in, his icy fingers brushing her jaw with precision. “That you have no options.”

She jerked away from his touch, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. “You're insane.”

Makros laughed, low and knowing. “I am.”

He leaned in, lips hovering near hers. “You either marry me...” Something cold pressed against her temple. “...or I put a bullet through that gorgeous head of yours.”

Silence.

Leila's pulse slammed in her ears.

The weight of the gun, and the conviction in his voice let her know that he meant it. Every word. For the first time since she'd awoken in this nightmare, one thing became horrifyingly clear.

There was no escape.

Chapter Three

A Deal With The Devil

LEILA’S POV

“Do it then.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable. Amusement? Surprise? I couldn’t tell. He leaned back slightly, probably thrown off by my boldness or stupidity, depending on how you looked at it.

Hell, even I had shocked myself.

Of course, I didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not until I made him suffer the way he had made me suffer.

“Do it,” I repeated, my voice steadier now, emboldened by my own recklessness. “Because it doesn't matter what you do. I won’t marry you. And if you let me live, I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself.”

I meant it. Every damn word.

He studied me like I was some puzzle he hadn’t expected to find in the box. Then, he chuckled—a deep, dark sound that crawled under my skin.

“How do you say it again? Yeah, you're trying to call off my bluff, right? You think I won't do it.”

“Nope, I don’t care what you choose to do,” I shot back. “It's not like I have a will to live. Not after what you’ve done. You're a twisted bastard playing a sick game.”

Leila, shut up. Just shut the hell up.