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Her dress fits her just as I envisioned it would, hugging all her beautiful curves and accenting her body for what it is. Her eyes hold a secret, and I can see the fear in them. Her body is bound up tight with something, and the way she pulls away from Eli has me wondering if he’s tried something on her behind my back. I shake that thought away. She is probably still mad at him for tackling her to the ground.
She takes the steps slowly, her heels clacking along the way. I had set this dinner up in an effort for us to get to know more about one another. I had known all there is to know about her father, and Amara, herself. She is a college student, she is undecided in academics, and her favorite color is green. She is deathly afraid of bees, and her favorite ice cream is double fudge. My men found all this out via the internet, among other tools that weren’t known to the public.
Her father is a farmer who lost his wife–Amara’s mother. I know that much about Amara. We both shared death, but that’s about it. Except she is living, and I am not.
I extend my hand out to her, she places her warm palm in mine, and I lead us out to the waiting car. She looks beautiful, although I’m sure she already knows.
“Where are we going?” she asks urgently. She seems uneasy.
“Why does it matter where we are going?” I ask, pulling the flask I keep in my jacket out. I need a drink. She is sitting right fucking next to me, and every glance at her, has me imagining the way she rode me this morning. The way her hips moved, how her thighs gripped me and her insides quivered as I…
“It matters because I’m a human, and I deserve to know where you’re taking me.” Her voice is defensive, and her nose scrunches up in anger. I smile, tipping back the flask as the bourbon warms my insides.
I screw the cap back on, my attention turning to her. I know the answer to the question I asked her earlier. She accepted her fate because she wanted to protect her father. I suppose I would do the same if I had any known family members alive.
“Dinner. A nice little restaurant in the city. I made reservations and figured you might want to get out of the house for a bit.” All I have said is true. She has been stuck in the house for weeks, and if I were her, I would’ve been going stir crazy. At least, I had a chance to see my cousin, Alessandra.
“Awfully sweet of you…” She is mocking me. I know it, as does she.
“See, I’m not always a monster.” Giving me a dirty look, she shifts her body away from mine so she can look out the window. It doesn’t matter to me that she knows where we are or how to leave the house. Where she resides isn’t meant to be a prison. If she runs, I will catch her, which she knows.
The ride goes smoothly, and I pull my phone out, sending Luccio a text to let him know I will be stopping by later. I will find out why he sent someone to me. I will also inform him that he is now dead if he hasn’t already gathered that much. He can get his men to collect his body from my property.
“Are you going to kill me after all this?” Amara asks sheepishly as her eyes stay trained on the window.
“I don’t know. Probably not, unless you give me a reason to…” It is an open-ended answer. This is her last chance to tell me if she will do something crazy.
She rolls her beautiful, brown eyes at me, and my dick grows hard. Her defiance makes me want her that much more. Get your head in the game. That’s not what I need to be focusing on. I need to be worried about whatever the fuck is going on around me.
“I just don’t want to die yet. I have so many plans… My mom died rather young, and I want to fulfill everything before my time comes.” Her words cause a hole in my chest to form. She’s opening up to me about her mother and her death. God, does it make me feel even more like a fucking asshole for treating her like shit, for putting her through all this. It has to be done, though, softness is weakness.
“You never talk about your parents, so I don’t know if they are alive. It hurts to lose someone you love like that. It feels like a piece of the person you were died with them. I miss my mom every day,” she says innocently, not knowing my story.
