Like he does think I’m something special. But maybe, I’m looking too hard for meaning, so I won’t regret what I just let him do to me.
Like I want to believe that crazy rough sex meant something to him.
I know I still feel it all over. And if I stop looking for meaning or wondering if I just degraded myself, I might believe experiencing a man like Armando was worth it. I’m pretty sure he just ruined me for vanilla sex. Ruined me for kinder, gentler men. I should’ve known there was a reason those mafia assholes always appealed to me. I prefer an alpha male. I’m sure it’s a purely biological weakness many women share with me.
I try to swallow around the invisible band choking me.
“I won’t tell anyone what I saw,” I manage to say. My voice sounds strained.
“Good girl. Then we won’t have any problems.”
Oh, we’ll still have problems. Individually and together.
I screw up my courage because making demands isn’t my strong suit, especially not in a crazy situation like this. I lift my chin. “But you’re paying for the damages here.” I don’t take my gaze off his face as I flutter my hand in the direction where the pots had been broken.
“Yeah. Of course.”
Whew. That was easier than expected.
I sit forward on the stool, as much as I can with his grip on my hair holding me immobile. It only has the effect of pushing my tits out. His gaze drops to my cleavage and hunger creeps into his expression.
I lick my lips, and his gaze lifts to my mouth. “A-are you going to let me go?”
The hunger drops away, replaced by that hardened mask he wears. “We’ll see, Flowers.” He releases my hair and turns away.
A chill creeps across my skin.
All the horrific doubts crowd into my brain and cut off intelligent thought.
I surge to my feet. He whirls, his hand around my throat in seconds, not squeezing, but guiding me back to my seat. His voice is even when he shakes his head and says, “I didn’t say you could move.”
And it’s that cold hardness more than anything that freaks me the hell out.
He must see the panic in my expression because he puts his finger lightly over my lips, trailing it downward. “Shh. Take it easy. You do what I say, you won’t get hurt. Capisce?”
I stare back at him and nod quickly.
“Good girl.”
Chapter Ten
Armando
Fuck.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with the girl. I can’t keep her tied up forever.
She is a witness to a murder, but I don’t harm the innocent.
That guy I killed today? He was a professional. Not a good one but definitely a guy who took money for the hit. Probably sent by the Hermanos.
Cazzo.
I went straight from my first confession out of the joint back to hell. Don Pachino told me to keep my nose clean. What a fucking laugh. I finish wiping the shop, trying to erase all evidence of the struggle. I owe her for a couple pots, but the damage isn’t too bad. Luckily, there wasn’t much blood.
Marco is a prince for taking care of the body for me. He’s the only guy I trusted enough to call. There are soldiers. I used to have my own crew, and I coulda called one of them, but something told me not to.
I stand in front of Hannah and slide my palm around the meat of her arm to lift her to her feet. She glares up at me.