“Yes madman, I have heard the rumors about myself. I don’t doubt that you have heard them.”
“I know nothing about you. Trust me, it isn’t for lack of trying, but for a man who has as much wealth and power as you have, it’s like you just appeared out of thin air,” she says, becoming increasingly exasperated.
“I have my reasons.”
“Don’t you think I should know what those reasons are?”
“Not yet. Where is that necklace that I told you to wear?” I ask, deflecting from this little line of questioning she has ensued.
Until I can wrap my hands around that pretty, little neck of hers, that chain will suffice as a reminder of me hanging around her.
Clearly flustered, she fumbles over her words just a bit. “Um, it’s in my purse.”
“Excellent, now, be a good girl and fetch it for me.” I motion to her purse, and reluctantly, she rises from her chair to retrieve it.
I watch as she bends, admiring the way the fabric of the dress hugs her curves. Necklace in hand, she slips back into her seat, keeping the chain grasped in her palm. She doesn’t say anything just yet. Instead, she sits, waiting for my next move.
“That’s a good girl,Sen.” I grin.
She hesitates, looking at me as if she has just seen a ghost. Maybe she has, maybe she hasn’t. That’s up to her to unravel. But tonight, I intend to unravel every inch of her. Making her wish that those stitched tattoos can keep her body intact once I am through fucking it senseless.
Chapter26
Sienna
It’s just a coincidence. An eerie, gut-wrenching coincidence is all.
I shake my head as I replay what Carmine just called me.Sen.I hate the effect that hearing that nickname has on me. Even after all this time, even after all the healing I thought I have done, I hear that name and I am somehow catapulted back to teenage, angsty and heartbroken Sienna. An era of my life I wish I could eradicate from my memory once and for all.
Carmine exaggeratedly clears his throat, waking me from the trance I have unintentionally pulled myself into. “Sienna are you with me?” he asks in a fervent tone that surprises me.
Still flustered from just moments before, I nod in response as I notice an eager grin begin to form on his face. His grin, although alluring, makes me feel nervous because I can’t determine if its intention is in genuine glee or something more devious, he has waiting up his sleeve.
“Yes, sorry,” I finally respond, as I nervously raise my hand to a piece of my hair I twirl. A habit I have always resorted to ever since I was a young girl, in moments of anxiety or uncertainty, and right now, I feel both.
His grin lessens with my response, clearly expecting more from me than my short reply.
“The necklace, Sienna,” he reminds me.
“Yes, what about it?” I answer him, still playing with my lock of hair.
Dissatisfied once again with my answer, he leans his elbows on the table. His posture is slouched, but it doesn’t make him any less intimidating or appealing. He rubs his open palms together, like he is contemplating what to say next.
“Give it to me,” he orders.
His demand does something to me, it doesn’t make me want to obey; it makes me want to challenge him. Not out of defiance, per se, but out of the thrill of learning what he will do to me if I don’t comply with his commands.
I drop the strand of hair I have been toying with and shift in my seat, mirroring his hunched posture with my own. I meet his gaze as I rest my elbows on the table. It’s not a large table, our half-bent arms are not that far from each other, and even in this otherwise plain position, I feel more than the heat radiating from the fireplace warming my core.
His eyes still peer into mine. I decided to raise the stakes a little, see how far I can push him before he cracks.
“Or what?” I ask, catching him off guard.
“What do you mean?” he retorts.
“What happens if I don’t hand it to you?”
He takes his elbows off the table and repositions himself, leaning back on the chair. As he sits, he spreads his legs apart, forcing my eyes to follow his movements, imagining what he has contained beneath the linen of his pants.
