Page 42 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

Her eyes popped open as she swallowed. But they didn’t fall on him. Instead, she looked right past him as if he didn’t exist and said, “It’s wonderful, Vittorio, as always.”

Heat spread over his skin, morphing into anger. The emotion was stronger than anything he’d felt in a long, long time. Curious, since her dismissal was a tiny thing. And yet, it triggered something ugly and uncontrolled.

He clenched his jaw, attempting to rein himself in.

“Very good, Miss Shaw.” Vittorio sounded pleased. “I’m glad you approve.”

“I do. It’s perfect.”

Laurent dug into his dessert with enough force to nearly bend the spoon. Vittorio returned to his seat as conversations resumed. He waited for his irritation to dissipate. It only ballooned.

The dessert was, indeed, spectacular. He took a few bites, watching Lily, attempting to catch her gaze. Surely she was aware of his attempts, even if she pretended otherwise.

“I wonder, Miss Shaw, if your love for sugary delights will make your blood sweeter on my tongue when I decide to taste you.” The words slipped out possessive and unfiltered. There came several tiny snickers around the table.

“Excuse me?” Her spoon clattered to the table.

“Shall I repeat myself?”

“How dare you?!”

“Oh, I dare.”

“Fuck. You,” she snarled, her skin flushing darker.

“Is that what you want, little flower? To fuck me?” He leaned forward. “I might allow it if I’m feeling generous.”

Lily blinked as if she’d been slapped. “You’re a disgusting pig.”

Perhaps it was a step too far. He didn’t really care. She was nothing more than a tool at his disposal.

“Don’t listen to him, darling. He’s only baiting you.” Zola attempted to diffuse the sudden tension.

“I’m sure he is. I guess when you’re an immortal, you’ll do anything to feel alive. Even if it means picking on someone weaker than you.” She turned back to her dessert, dismissive.

His jaw ticked. “How utterly philosophical. What could you possibly know of life?”

“More than you think,” she spat without so much as looking at him.

He huffed. “If I wanted sage advice, I certainly wouldn’t search for it in a helpless creature like you.”

She surged to her feet, her chair scraping behind her. He blinked, momentarily stunned by her explosion of motion. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Meek submission?

“Enough,” she said, her voice firm. “I’ve had enough of you.” She made to leave, then hesitated and picked up her half-eaten dessert. She threw him a dismissive glare and grabbed her glass of wine, too.

Without another look for anyone, she strode from the room, her head held high, bare feet pattering gently across the floor.

“Let her go,” Zola warned.

He simply leaned back, watching with feigned amusement as Lily disappeared. Except, he didn’t feel amused. Not at all. Humans weren’t supposed to get under his skin. He didn’t have the capacity to care. Yet, she had already burrowed too deep, so deep he could feel it in his very bones.

12

Islipped around the manor and pressed my back flush against the wall, waiting, listening. Zola’s tennis shoes—I was shocked she owned any—painfully squeezed my feet. They were a size too small, but it was less painful than going barefoot. I listened for the sound of the delivery truck.

A handful of days had passed since our lovely little dinner party, and every time I thought about what Laurent said, I seethed all over again. In the end, his words had made my final decision easier.

Laurent wanted me to believe I was in danger, that staying in his manor would keep me safe. What he’d failed to consider, was that I’d lived on my own for years. If his enemies were out to get me, they would have found me before now. No, this was just his way of exercising control. He wanted me scared. He wanted me to believe others would use me against him. Wanted me to believe the world wasn’t a safe place for me.