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However, it won’t be the worst situation if the place keeping me hostage catches on fire. Given I can escape, obviously.
An hour later, I’m stacking pizza on two plates and returning to the living room. Because I’m so generous, I hand Leo one. He stares at it suspiciously for five minutes before eating it, as if wondering if I sprinkled poison on his pepperoni.
I grab the remote and flip through the movie options.
“I should’ve attended law school,” I say while we watchLegally Blonde. “I’d make an amazing attorney.” I straighten my shoulders and gesture in his direction with my pizza. “Your Honor, I have receipts and screenshots.”
Leo snorts. “Any judge and jury would rule in your favor in fear of your father slaughtering them.”
I scowl. “My dad isn’t that terrible.”
“He’s known as Monster Marchetti for a reason.”
Yet Antonio went against him to protect me.
After we finish the sequel, I’m about to tell him he’s responsible for dinner when Antonio walks in, holding a plastic bag tied at the top.
“There’s my captor,” I announce, pointing in his direction with the remote.
He glares at me and whispers something to Leo. Leo rises from the couch and offers Antonio a head nod before leaving the cabin. Clearly, he hasn’t accepted our friendship card yet since he doesn’t glance in my direction.
Rude.
“How was your day?” Antonio drops the bag on the kitchen table.
“How one would expect while held captive.” I join him in the kitchen. “And in case you’ve never been held hostage, spoiler alert: it’s boring as shit.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy being held captive last night when I fucked your nightmares out of you and gave you the best sleep of your life.” He unties the bag, revealing to-go containers.
“I was in a post-sleep-paralysis coma.” I press my finger against my skull. “My brain doesn’t fully function during those.”
Turning, he wraps his arm around my waist and pushes me against the counter. “Oh, princess. Sleep paralysis or not, you know I have the power to fuck every demon out of you—anytime, anywhere.”
I close my eyes and fail to suppress a moan when he rotates his hips, pressing his pants-covered erection against my core.
“Now, let’s eat before I spread you across the table and enjoy you for dinner instead.” He squeezes my hips and lifts a brow.
Even though I’d have no problem with that, I decide to play difficult hostage. I rip away from him and sit at the table. He passes me a plate and sets one on the table for himself. I dump chow mein and an egg roll on it. Instead of eating, I watch him.
This man has touched every inch of me, fucked me, killed for me, but this is the first time we’re sharing a meal together. It feels so domesticated.
If being held against your will can be domesticated.
“So …” I finally wrap a noodle around my fork. “What’s your endgame here?”
He waits until he’s done chewing before answering, “Keeping the people I care about alive.”
“And I’m one of those people?”
“You’re here and not dead like Elijah, aren’t you?”
I drop my fork. “You’re not going to hurt my father, are you?”
“I’ll kill anyone for you.” His tone is devoid of sarcasm.
Antonio isn’t a man of many words, but when he promises violence, there will be violence.
“Why me, though?”
