Page 12 of Hard Bargain

The chair scraped against the floor as the man stood, the sound too loud in the small room. He moved around the table without haste, until he stopped directly in front of Knox.

Too close.

There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to shift without making it obvious.

Fingers closed around Knox’s chin, guiding his face upward with a pressure that made resistance pointless. The grip wasn’t cruel, but it was absolute: an unspoken command wrapped in skin and bone.

Knox’s pulse slammed in his throat as their eyes locked, his body going rigid beneath the weight of it. Every instinct was caught between pulling away and staying perfectly still. He became acutely aware of everything at once—the heat of the man’s hand against his skin, the closeness of him, the way the air seemed to thin until breathing felt like an effort.

“You should be careful,” the man said quietly, his voice close enough that Knox felt the words as much as heard them. “That tone assumes you have leverage.”

His thumb pressed harder, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind Knox exactly who was in charge.

He swallowed, the movement restricted, his breath uneven in a way he couldn’t control. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” he managed.

“No. You didn’t,” the man agreed easily, as if the fact meant nothing at all. His gaze lingered, before dropping briefly to Knox’s mouth.

The shift was so slight it might have been missed if Knox hadn’t been hyperaware of every movement. The look didn’t last long, but it landed with a force that had his breath hitching.

The man noticed.

Of course he did.

Something in his expression changed, not enough to name it, but Knox felt it all the same. “You owe me,” he stated.

Something cold settled in Knox’s gut. “For not killing me?”

“No. For sparing you,” he corrected. “For trusting you.”

Knox let out a laugh that sounded more brittle than he meant it to. “Trust? You dragged me into an interrogation room. That’s not trust.”

“No,” he said, his tone turning almost thoughtful. “It isn’t.”

His grip remained where it was for a moment longer, before his hand finally fell away. The absence left behind a strange, unwelcome awareness, as if the space where he’d been touched still held the imprint of it.

“I don’t even know your name,” Knox said.

“Dominic Rivera.”

The name settled between them, and something about it felt permanent. Somehow, Knox already knew he’d carry it with him for the rest of his life. “What do you want from me?” he asked, steadier than he felt.

Dominic held his gaze, as if deciding how much to give and how much to keep. “Obedience. You’ll keep your mouth shut. You’ll answer when I call. And you won’t pretend you’re braver than you are.”

“And if I don’t?” Knox asked, the defiance still there.

Dominic’s eyes went cold. “Then I stop being patient.”

Knox’s fingers locked into fists. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a fact.” Dominic tilted his head, studying him again like he had nothing better to look at. “You keep talking like refusal is still an option. It isn’t. But it’s entertaining, watching you pretend otherwise.”

Knox’s nostrils flared. “Fuck you.”

Dominic didn’t so much as blink. “Careful. That’s the second time today you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.”

Knox’s breathing came harder, but he said nothing. The anger had nowhere to go, building inside him until it took everything he had not to shake.

“I need to hear you understand me,” Dominic said.