Page 66 of Villainous Kingpin

Bas’ father leaned against the living room doorway, looking like he was in his own home. His own territory. Well, he was in his territory. This side of town belonged to the DiLustros. How many times had Uncle Liam warned us not to cross to this side of the city?

I could taste fear on my tongue as I stood there watching one of the most feared men in New York City. Unlike Bas, this man was all cruelty and corruption. Evil. It was in the wickedness of his gaze. In the darkness of the air that seemed to pulse around him with each slight movement he made.

“Basilio is not home,” I said firmly, though my heart thundered so hard it might have cracked my ribs.

“Home, huh?” He chuckled, though there was something menacing about his laugh. Predatory. “You already made yourself at home, I see.”

I didn’t like his tone. Being caught alone in Basilio’s home with this man was bound to end badly.

He hadn’t moved, but the way he eyed me, like a predator, I felt like he was too close. The room was closing in on me. His gaze lowered, eyeing my sparkly painted toes, then traveled up over my bare legs. I felt too exposed, too naked.

He took a step towards me, and instinctively, I took a step back. I didn’t want him any closer to me, though by the way he smiled, it looked like I made his day. This man liked a chase and right now he looked like a cat who was about to catch the canary.

My eyes darted around for my phone. It was on the coffee table.

Coffee table!

I saw it when Basilio gave me the necklace. He stored his handgun in it. His father didn’t bother looking away from me. He didn’t consider me a threat.

I shifted to my right, towards the table. He followed.

“How much?” My heart skidded to a stop and I blinked in confusion. He chuckled darkly. “How much to let me fuck you?” My heart pounded in my chest but I refused to show it. Bas would be home soon. He’d keep me safe. “Name your price. I’m willing to negotiate.”

The gun and coffee table temporarily forgotten, I stared at him in shock.

“I don’t have a price,” I choked out, swallowing a lump in my throat. “This has nothing to do with you.”

He leered at me with a cruel smirk on his face. The way he looked at me sent a shiver of fear down my spine. His mouth pulled into a big menacing smile that raised the little hairs on my skin. Terror unlike any before clogged my throat.

I wasn’t prepared for this. To fight. To defend myself.

My heart thundered against my ribcage. For the first time in my life, I was scared because the way this man looked at me promised nightmares and retribution. The man didn’t like to be denied.

“Everyone has a price.”

And this was where my infamous Irish temper kicked in. I squared my shoulders and glared at him.

“Well, I don’t,” I spat back at him. “I don’t want nor need your filthy money.”

In two big strides, the man was in my face. I pissed him off. This was the scary, ruthless, and crazy mobster. He literally towered over me, working his intimidation.

But what had taken me aback was the hate in his eyes. What could I have possibly done for this man to hate me so much? Hate was usually personal and this man had only just met me.

Using all my strength from years of training, I kicked him between his legs and sprinted for the coffee table. I wasn’t fast enough or I didn’t hit him hard enough. His hand grabbed my arm and yanked me back. Losing my balance, I fell to the floor. My head cracked against the hardwood floor. Stars danced in front of my vision.

It was peculiar the thoughts that ran through one’s head when in panic. I didn’t think about my mom. I didn’t think about Basilio. I didn’t think about surviving. My only damn thought was not to break anything or get a concussion so I could continue my training.

My priorities were screwed up. Or maybe the ice skating and training had been ingrained into me for so long, I didn’t know how to think about anything else.

My fingers locked around the table leg and I gripped it hard as I scrambled onto my knees. I was desperate to get away from him. I wasn’t quick enough. His hands grabbed my hips and jerked me backwards.

Losing my balance, my knees gave out and my head hit the corner of the coffee table. Stars swirled in my vision again.

Fuck!

His harsh laughter filled the room. It pierced my eardrums. It sent fear down to every cell of me. I felt sticky liquid trickling down my temple, red dripped in front of my vision.

I couldn’t give up. I had to fight.