Page 14 of Stolen Vows
If I try hard enough, I can still taste the blood mixing with his saliva. I don’t like the little thrill that races through me with the memory.
I’m shoved into a heavy metal door, and the force of my collision pushes it open, revealing an immaculate penthouse. Massive walls of glass frame the open area, highlighting the backdrop of the Charles River and the harbor beyond.
The numbing white interior screams emotionally distant luxury, which I suppose is fitting for someone like Leo. I can’t help standing in place, afraid that moving around might taint the wide-planked hardwood floor with my presence.
In the living room, a woman dressed in a polo and black pants, with her reddish-blond hair pulled back and tucked under her collar, kneels on the corner of a white shag rug, scrubbing furiously. Across from her, a man lounges on a cream-colored leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other as he sips from a beer bottle, watching the woman.
His eyes cut to mine as soon as I’m past the door’s threshold, and I try not to recoil from the depth of their coldness.
“Well, well.” He glances behind me as the guard slips back into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him. “My son couldn’t even be bothered to retrieve his bride, I see.”
In my peripheral vision, I notice the staff member has frozen in place, her hands covering the dark red stain.
I gently roll my shoulders back and steel myself against Leo’s father. “I assume he had more important things to do.”
“Yes, I do believe I recall something about stopping by one of the clubs. Not sure what he could possibly be doing there, as we hardly ever conduct business in them these days. They’re mostly kept around for our pleasure.” A taunting grin tugs at his haggard face, and he takes another drink from his bottle. “Not to worry, though. If he comes home with lipstick on his collar, maybe he’ll spare you tonight.”
I know he’s trying to get a rise out of me, but I’m not exactly sure why. Nor am I able to resist the bait. “Why should I need sparing?”
His eyebrows hitch. “What, atopolinalike you? I highly doubt you’re capable of keeping him satisfied, my dear. He’ll eat you alive.”
I’m not sure the wave of liquid heat that rushes through my limbs is the response he’s expecting his words to elicit, so I ignore it. “You seem very interested in your son’s bedroom habits. Is there something you’re not telling me?”
A dark look passes over the senior De Tore’s face. Slowly, he leans forward, setting his bottle down on the glass coffee table before him. He rises, still in the same suit as before, though I can’t ignore the stain splashed against the lapel, as if rinsed but not thoroughly cleaned.
My gaze darts to the rug, where the strawberry blond resumes her furious scrubbing.
I’ve seen enough spilled blood in my life to recognize it easily, even from across a room.
For a moment, I’m stricken with panic—and not for myself, at least not immediately.
WhereisLeo?
Given his possessiveness at Saint Paul’s, I can’t imagine he’d just take off without waiting to make sure I made it to his condo in one piece. Yet he appears nowhere to be found, and here his terrible father is instead, stalking across the room like he has only seconds to make it.
He’s surprisingly quick, even while gripping a cane in his right hand. It doesn’t seem to do anything but make him faster, and then he’s standing before me, glaring down like he’d like to flay me alive before I can open my mouth again.
Hatred burns in his dark eyes, and something deep inside me knows it’s not just me that fire roars for.
Maybe I’m not the only one stuck in this tower.
“If it’d been me at that church,” the man says, his free hand whipping out to grab my throat and yank me closer, “I’d havecarved out your lying, cheating father’s tongue, then fucked you on that altar while he watched with blood pouring from his mouth. The last thing he’d have seen was me violating every virgin hole in your boring little body, and then I’d have fed him to you before ripping your heart out.”
Fear rattles my rib cage, but I do my best to focus on his grip. It tightens with each word, constricting my airway, and I’m not sure how much longer I have before I pass out. My vision darkens at the corners, and out of reflex, my fingers claw at him, seeking a reprieve.
“But I suppose watching my son ruin you will be just as fun,” he continues, leaning down so his face is a breath away from mine.
I watch as he comes even closer, thinking for sure that he’ll stop eventually. That he’s just trying to scare me.
His lips land on my mouth mere milliseconds later, dry and cracked as they attempt to mold themselves to me. I make a noise in the back of my throat, instantly jerking away, but he fists my neck even more and then shoves his tongue inside.
It’s nothing at all like kissing Leo. That, even if driven by spite, lust, and a sense of doom, had at least been warm. Consuming. Like staring up at a night sky full of stars.
Kissing his father feels like falling into an abyss. It’s a slow implosion, where you feel each molecule and atom in your body expand before nothingness swallows you whole.
I bite him the second I get a chance. He pulls back and slaps me, then runs his tongue over the seam of my lips, chuckling darkly as he finally lets go.
“Perhaps now I understand my son’s keen interest in Rafael’s youngest,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
