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“The door was closed for a reason. Do you have no concept of personal space?” I hiss.
Ignoring my ire, he smirks, closing the distance between us in only a couple of long strides. Reaching out, he grips my chin harshly. Though his touch should repulse me, I can’t help the butterflies that erupt in my stomach.
“No. Not when it comes to you. There is no door, no wall,nothingyou can put in front of me that will stop me from getting to you ormyson.”
My heart jackhammers in my chest at the possession in his words and I know he means every single one. He would get to us no matter what. I don’t know why I expected any less. The man never gave up looking for me. It may have taken him a year to find me, but he did. That’s perseverance if ever I heard it.
“I was just about to shower.” I say, ripping my chin out of his grip. I need to put space between us, remember who he is. That he ismarried.
“No. Sit. We have things we need to discuss.” He gestures toward the lounge area where a couch and two Chesterfield chairs sit. Frowning, he glances at where Romeo’s crib has been set up. “Our son is asleep?”
I nod. “Yes. He went straight down.”
“Good. Now sit.”
“I want to shower–”
I am cut off when his palm hits my lower back. Electricity shoots through my veins at the small touch. I know he feels it too when he grimaces. He hates that I affect him, as much as I hate the way he has this hold over me. I almost snort, wanting to tell him that the feeling’s mutual. “It wasn’t a question,Tesoro. Sit.”
Like a petulant child, I stomp over to the chair, dropping down in it. Glancing up, my eyes lock on Nico’s. My lips part, heart thrumming wildly behind my rib cage. Why does he have to be so beautiful? Full lips. Dark hair. Blue eyes. He is a God. And he damn well knows it.
As if he knows exactly what I’m thinking, a smirk takes over his smug face. I grit my teeth, preventing myself from throwing him an insult as frustration claws at me. His gaze never leaving mine, he takes a seat on the couch opposite me, all the while watching me with a complete look of madness in his eyes. I stare at him with a look of nonchalance - though I feel anything but - waiting for him to say whatever he came here to talk about.
Sighing, he leans back, getting comfortable, then finally speaks. “We have things to discuss. For one, your real name and age.” I flinch at the way he spits the last part, his jaw clenching. “Your family and why you ran.”
I’m shaking my head before he even finishes. “No. I don’t want to talk about my family.”
His eyes narrow. “You will talk about them. I want to know everything.” A devilish grin curves his lips. Without him even saying anything, I know I am not going to like what he says next. “If you don’t tell me, I will go straight to the source. Or even better, I will bring them here.”
Nausea churns in my gut, sweat dripping down my back at the thought of that happening. I shoot out of my seat, my chest heaving as I glower down at him. “Stop threatening me with them. You have no idea what I went through growing up in thatfamily,” I snap.
His face remains a blank mask, but the way his jaw tics and his eye twitches, tells me that he doesn’t like my outburst. “Sit down. And if you don’t start spilling your secrets from that perfect mouth of yours, then I will search for the information I want in any way I deem necessary. You lied to me,Emilee.” I recoil at the sound of my real name out of his mouth. I am no longer Emilee Caldwell, haven’t been for a long time. Why can’t he understand that? “Not only about who you really are, but your fucking age. You were barely legal when I fucked you.” he growls, and I blush at the memory of how he took my virginity.
“The legal age to have sex in New York is seventeen. I was eighteen, so therefore, legal.” I mumble as I resume my seat.
“Just,” he barks, and I glance at Romeo to make sure he hasn’t woken him. Thankfully, my baby boy is still fast asleep. “And anyway. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I am a fucking decade older than you. Twenty-eight. Had I known how old you were, I would never have touched you. I would have stayed away.”
That thought alone makes me feel hollow inside. Though I hate him right now, I wouldn’t change what happened between us.
“Would you?” I shoot back. “I seem to recall it was you that chased me. You who wouldn’t take no for an answer.” I’m challenging him, poking the beast, but I don’t care.
He scowls before clearing his throat. “That’s not the fucking point. My whole club could have been shut down. The other girls could have lost their jobs, because of the lies you told.”
I swallow, guilt hitting me right in the chest. I didn’t even consider that when I started working at The Executive Club, and maybe that was selfish of me. Nonetheless, it never happened so it’s a moot point. “Everything worked out.” My voice is nonchalant, and he doesn’t look impressed by my response.
“Get to your family. I am this close,” he moves his thumb and pointer finger millimeters apart, “to wrapping my hands around your delicate little throat and squeezing the life from you.”
I gasp at his cold, cruel words. One look at him tells me that he is serious. Not wanting to antagonize him further, and knowing I have no choice in the matter, I give him what he wants. Sucking in a breath, I try to calm myself before I delve into my past. It’s no use. Every time I think about it, let alone talk about it, it puts me on edge.
“I ran from home because my father is a monster. When I refused to do the many things he asked of me, he would beat me and keep me locked in my room for days. My mother would never intervene, too scared that he would turn on her. I was watched constantly, told what to eat and wear. When I turned sixteen, he informed me that I would be marrying Xavier Anderson, the mayor’s son.” I don’t miss the way his eyes darken as I tell him that bit of information. “It would happen the day after my eighteenth birthday. I didn’t want to marry Xavier. I had heard the rumors about him. What he did to women. My life would have been hell. So, for months, I started saving my allowance. I then spoke with a friend who put me in touch with someone who could make me a really good fake ID. I asked him to put my age as twenty-one because I knew I would have a better chance at getting a job… in a club, whether as a dancer or even a stripper. It didn’t matter, I just needed to make as much money as I could.” He glowers, making me shrink back but I continue, wanting to get everything off my chest. Every single little detail. Clearing my throat, I continue. “My father progressively got worse with his abuse. He was obsessed about me marrying into the Anderson family and securing himself business deals. He was fanatical, bordering into dictator territory about keeping me away from boys and anyone that he thought could lead me astray. My virginity staying intact was part of the agreement. Anderson would not accept an impure bride for his son, and I heard from several people that Xavier constantly talked about all the sick ways he was going to rip it from me. He was going to take my innocence whether I wanted him to or not and no one cared.” A growl rumbles in his chest, startling me out of my reverie. “What?” I snap.
He pushes out of his chair. Not looking at me, he paces the room, running a hand through his hair. “You tell me right fucking now whether you have let anyone else inside my cunt. You said that fucker never touched you, but how can I believe a word you say.”
My mouth drops open. Out of everything I just told him, that is what he is focused on? A bitter laugh leaves my mouth before I can stop it. “You’re one to talk. You’remarried,Nico. How dare you question me?”
He is in my face, his hand wrapped around my throat before I can blink. I swallow, my pulse kicking up to an unnatural speed. He squeezes. Not hard enough to cut off my air but enough to warn me of my place. “Did. You. Let. Anyone. Touch. You. While. You. Were. Running?” The manic look in his gaze has me scared. Though he always had that ruthless look about him, he hid that side from me before. But there is no hiding it now. No protecting me from who he really is. He wants me to see every ruthless, twisted part of him.
With wide, fearful eyes, I shake my head as much as his grip allows me. His gaze tracks the small movement and his jaw clenches. “No, Nico. You are the only man to touch me in that way.” My voice is a soft whisper as I try to placate him. Not that he deserves it.
