Page 28 of Thorns of Blood

“Unless it involves returning me back to my property and never seeing you again, I’m not interested.”

“She’s no longer there, you know. Killian came for his wife and child.” His voice was low and soft, but those words sent terror through me. “But not to worry. Her parents are ensuring her well-being and safety.”

It was for me to ensure Amara’s safety. She was my child. Yet, it would seem biology would prevail and I’d be forgotten once again.

All my years of captivity, fury, and bitterness rose to the surface, and my eyes flashed.

“I’m going to kill you,” I stated coldly.

He flashed me a smile. “Hence the binding.”

“The longer you leave me tied, the longer your torture,” I hissed.

Unfortunately, my threat didn’t have the desired effect.

“You’ll be tied up until I know you’ll behave. I can’t afford to lose more men on this ship.”

This. Motherfucker.

Images of various methods of torture flashed through my mind.

“You started this, but trust me, Giovanni, I will finish it.”

This man touched me. Ripped me out of my home and away from my child. Tied me up. Oh, the ways I would make him pay.

I gazed at the ceiling, knowing the key was to keep a cool head.

“I should have expected nothing less from a Tijuana man. Your mother cooked up some shit there, huh?”

I must have struck a nerve because the temperature in the room took a dive, and he was out of the chair and in my face before I could blink. If a look could kill, I’d be dead.

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

I laughed, pouring all my menace into it. “Or what? I’m only stating the facts, Giovanni Agosti.” I paused, feigning remorse. “My bad, I should say GiovanniTijuana, even though you’re the bastard product of your mother’s?—”

My airways closed as he slammed his palm against my mouth.

Revulsion at being touched shot through me as I stared at him, refusing to show him any weakness and fully intent on exploiting his.

Just not at this moment.

So, inhaling a deep, calming breath, I ignored the thudding of the pulse in my eardrums and shifted, feeling the silky sheets cooling my exposed skin and my temper. Somewhat.

I changed tactics.

“How did you know where to find me?” I questioned.

A heartbeat passed.

“Kian Cortes.”

My stomach sank and lead spread outward throughout my body.

The only man I owed allegiance to after his infamous brother had me wishing—begging—for death for the longest six months of my entire life.

Against my will, the memories surged.

“Please,” I cried, reaching for my daughter as Perez restrained me, almost ripping my right arm out of the socket as he jerked me back. “Please, please… leave her alone.”