He takes Mae’s place behind my easel. I hope that’s the only reason he’s here…to inspect my work with lazy eyes.
My heart hammers against my ribs while his sharp gaze roves over the painting I’ve been working on for the past two weeks. It’s inspired byHansel and Gretel.
The second I finish, he plans to sell the piece. Same as always. Rinse, lather, repeat.
“Well?” Leo speaks without even glancing in my direction.
“Well, what?” I squeeze my right hand with my left.
“Is this the best you can do?” His low, steady voice unsettles me. It’s a facade, like still waters that hide vicious sea serpents within their depths.
My mouth falls open. This is only the third time Leo’s ever inspected my work, so I’m unsure of what to expect. Nothing I can say will please him, nor can I predict what he’ll ask. His needling questions come out of nowhere.
“I should be done with the painting by tomorrow?—”
“You defy me?” He whirls on me, his dark gaze stabbing my face. His brows arch up his forehead. “I asked ifthisis the best you can do.”
“I…” Words fail me, so I give up trying.
When my silence continues, his eyes narrow.
With one hand, he snatches my canvas off the easel and chucks it out the open window.
Mae gasps, but my attention remains trained on Leo. I know better than to take my eyes off a predator. Especially since Leo’s focus never leaves me.
My blood turns to ice. I want to escape, but there’s nowhere to go.
The thought of following the painting out the window, soaring through the air before crashing into the fountains below, flits through my mind before I shove the visual away.
It’s just a fleeting impulse, nothing more. My mother would never want me to give up.
“I won’t accept anything less thanexcellenceat my auction.” He cracks his knuckles, each individual pop raising the hairs on my arms. “You’ll start again. Have the painting ready by Friday night. Itwillbe your best work.”
An entirely new painting? He wants me to create some kind of masterpiece in only three days? Disbelief and despair curdle my gut.
The intensity of his attention pierces my flesh like a hundred tiny knives, so I drop my gaze to his collarbone.
He grabs my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks and forcing my eyes back up to his.
“Answer me, or you’ll regret it, little bug.”
I already regret it,I want to scream.
His talons reek of sex, like the fingers gripping my cheeks were inside some random woman just five minutes ago. The disgust roasting my insides is enough to bring hot tears to my defiant eyes. The coppery tang of blood crawls up my nose. I don’t want to open my mouth, lest either of the scents creep in?—
“Still resisting me?” Leo’s sharp nails cut deeper into my soft skin until my jaw aches beneath the power of his grip. “Do you need a reminder of what happened last time you tried to rebel?”
I can’t stop my reflexive glance at Mae or the shudder that racks my body. Acid swells in my gut. Once Leo learned that beatings no longer motivated me enough to do his bidding, he focused on Mae instead. He had one of his goons restrain me while he smashed her pinky finger with a hammer.
“No.” I bite the word through gritted teeth.
Leo’s eyes narrow. “Nowhat?”
I swallow, my mouth dry as bone as the memory of Mae’s screams ring in my ears. “No, sir.”
“There’s a good little bug.” Chuckling, he releases me and pats me on the head like a dog before sauntering to the center of the room.
While his back is turned, I rub my aching jaw and meet Mae’s wide eyes. They glisten with a combination of fear and sorrow. Mae hates that Leo uses her as leverage to keep me in line.
