“How do you know about my mother?”
My voice cut through the steel. And I was ready for him to laugh in my face. But he just shifted slightly, leaning back and tilting his head as if he was peering into my soul. And my insides shuddered at the intensity of his stormy eyes.
It took everything in me not to flinch and get under the table; as if there was a big enough table to save me from him.
“The way a man knows the bones of his own hands.”
I frowned, my fingers unknowingly tightened around the stem of my glass as I resisted the urge to throw the wine at his face. “That’s not an answer.”
His lips curled into a slow and lazy smile. “It is. You’re simply too dumb to understand it.”
Frustration flared in my chest. “Stop talking in riddles. Tell me the truth.”
He tilted his head to the other side. “Would you believe if I did?”
Something about the way he said it sent unease slithering down my spine. He knew something. Something about me that I didn’t even know myself. Like a marionette tangled with strings.Sand slipped through my hands, no matter how hard I tried to clutch it.
It wasn’t fair. I gave him my body, and he was supposed to be true to his words. Rage bloomed restlessly as I glared at him, ignoring how intimidating he looked.
“You’re a liar,” I accused, pushing the chair back sharply. His stormy eyes followed me as I slammed my hands on the table. “You used me.”
His expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in those steel eyes. The glint from earlier was replaced with something sinister. Amusement? Or was it disappointment?
“You used yourself, Dolcezza.” He leaned back, fingers tapping the armrest, his voice maddeningly calm. “I only gave you the opportunity.”
The words hit harder than any slap could. I felt like a fool. A pathetic, desperate fool who bargained with the devil and expected mercy. Was he even listening to himself? How could he? How could he go back on his word?
Tears burned at the back of my throat. “I wish I’d never crossed paths with you.”
And that was when I saw it. The shift. The amusement was gone. The creeping funny bled into his features. Jaw tightened, and the muscle there twitched. I watched fearfully as his fingers curled into a fist against the table. The storm was brewing.
My breath hitched, and my neck craned as I watched him push the chair back and stand to his full height. Time stilled for me. Even for a moment, but that took everything in me not to get on my knees and beg for his mercy. My leftover pride didn’t letme. The food in my stomach threatened to make a reappearance, and the wine I drank sobered me up instantly.
The gigantic dining room became too small. I was still contemplating running. How long would it take me to make a run for my life? Before I could shift, he was across the room as his presence swallowed me whole.
“You wish you’d never met me?” He repeated my words as if he was giving me a chance to take them back.
I opened my mouth, but no words came. Because the next second, his hand was on my throat. The heel I wore did nothing to match his height as I was pulled up on my toes, and instinctively, my hands flew to his wrist. His grip was suffocating, too tight, making me see black dots.
“P-please…”
The plea escaped like a prayer.
I trembled not only from fear but something worse.
I thrashed like a leaf as he pulled me to his mouth. I felt his hot, angry breath hitting my face. “You don’t get to erase me from your life, Dolcezza.” His voice lowered an octave. “You don’t get to wish me away just because it’s convenient for you.”
From the way my body trembled when I caught the unhinged gleam in his eyes, I wished I could reverse time and take my words back. I hated it. This feeling of patheticity and vulnerability. The way he held all the cards.
His hand moved from my throat to the cup around my jaw, forcing my gaze to his. “Shall I remind you?” he murmured, stepping into my vicinity and forcing me to back against thetable. I was shoved back till I was half straddling the table and half his thigh. “Last night wasn’t enough for you?”
I quickly shook my head. It was enough. I couldn’t take any more. I was scared that I would again lose myself.
But the gleam in his eyes said he didn’t believe me.
His fingers flexed against my jaw possessively, his touch feather-light yet immovable, as if he were savouring the way I trembled beneath him.
“No?” His lips barely moved, the syllable like a phantom against my skin.
