Page 29 of Oops Baby for the Mafia Boss

I spread my hands. The answer is obvious.

He narrows his eyes, then a cunning look sweeps across his face. “You really don’t like talking, do you?”

I shrug. Is this the sort of insight he can give? Wow. I’m fucked. Computers—and their enthusiastic users—truly are as stupid as they appear.

I’d walk away, but I have no more options. Every avenue I’ve tried has been a failure.

He leans back on the sofa. I heard the phrase “shit-eating grin” from an American distributor I work with once, and that’s exactly what Blackfen’s smile is. “I’m not raising a finger until you tell me what this is about.”

Twat.

“The deal,” I say. My voice is rusty, even though I’ve had to use it far more than I’d like recently.

“What deal?” he replies, smirking.

I grind my teeth. “Find Emily Smith. Any price.”

Fucking hell. Two sentences.

He shakes his head. “I was sure this was some business thing gone bad, or perhaps a temporary fixation?—”

I snort.

“—that you would work out of your system with another woman.”

My lip curls. As though Emily could be swapped for anyone else. Fucking idiotic.

I circle my hand to indicate he should get on with this. Quicker we make this deal, quicker I get Emily back.

“She’s worth your territory, half your assets—and don’t think I don’t know how much you have stashed away—and a month of suffering? You’re aware that’s what I meant?” He looks at me almost pityingly. “No one who stays with me iscomfortable.”

I just nod.

“There can be long-term psychological and physical consequences to torture.”

As if I haven’t seen that first hand. Is he trying to talk me out of this? And seriously, nothing he could do would be half as bad as losing Emily. I’m at my wits’ end, so I just scowl at Blackfen, waiting.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath. “I’d heard you were an impossible psychopath, maybe a sociopath, but I had no idea.”

A brief pause, as though he’s expecting me to dispute what’s probably a statement of fact. Besides, this man is obviously insane.

“Shall I knock you out and take you downstairs, or would you rather…?” He gestures to a door.

I head towards it. I’d definitely prefer to walk.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him move, and instinctively I reach for my gun. But I left it behind.

He’s an inch shorter than me, but he has the advantage of surprise and a weapon. Pain explodes in my neck, shooting down my spine and up to my head.

All my nerves are on fire.

I scream, but the agony goes on and on.

I collapse to the floor.

My last thought, before I black out, is that I hope Emily is okay.

I wake up tied to a chair, my body aching but not in pain.