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“You’re to move in here,” Cristian finally remarked, seemingly satisfied with his control over the situation, with the submission in my silence.
“I’m to what?”
His expression didn’t change. “I’m not done.”
As much as I wanted to scream at him, rake my nails through the skin of his face, I pursed my lips. His voice was liquid fire, threat and command threaded into every word.
I was afraid of him.
But not enough.
Not enough to let him walk all over me, to let him make all kinds of rules about the rest of my fucking life.
“Yes, you are fucking done,” I snapped. “You’re done making orders, threats, and you’re done finding out who I am while remaining a stranger.” I kept my eyes level with his. “Who are you?” I demanded, crossing my legs. I didn’t miss the way his eyes went to my bare skin. I was still wearing the dress he’d fucked me in today. I hadn’t even put on any panties. It could’ve been because I was in shock from everything that had transpired today. That’s what a normal person would be feeling. Shock. Disgust. Fear.
I should not have been thinking about Cristian fucking me this morning, how I hadn’t showered and could still feel him inside me. How I wanted him to fuck me even now.
I couldn’t give in to my baser instincts. Not now. Not when it was clear they were going to destroy me. I needed information. From the horse’s mouth. He could lie, I knew that much. And I wouldn’t take him at his word. Once I got a new phone and a secure internet connection, I’d do research of my own. As naïve as it may have been, I had the feeling that Cristian was going to tell me the truth. Lies would not serve him now.
People usually told lies to make themselves look better. Cristian wasn’t doing anything to make him look like he was the good guy. He was making it very clear he was the villain here.
He was right, it was what attracted me to him in the first place.
“I’m the head of the Catalano crime family,” he said after a few beats.
I blinked. Though I’d sensed he was going to be honest, I hadn’t thought he’d come straight out and say that he was the head of a crime family.
No, not a crime family. The crime family.
Though I rarely worked in criminal law, I knew who the Catalanos were. Not as well as the natives of the city did, but I was familiar with the name. I was familiar with the whispers that ran rampant in certain circles about how dangerous it was to try to prosecute anyone affiliated with that family. I’d heard the stories about witnesses going missing on the scant number of cases that were connected to the name. Though it piqued my interest, I hadn’t researched further. It was not my job. In addition to that, it had not been in line with my objectives. I’d been trying to starve the darkness inside of me, not feed it with whatever scraps I could find out about a ruthless crime family.
“You’re the head of the mob?” I clarified.
Cristian arched a brow. “Ah, not a title that I am fond of, but for the sake of your understanding, yes.”
There it was. An admission that he was head of the most dangerous crime family in the city, if not the country.
“What does that mean?” I asked, keeping my voice even, my eyes on his. My fear was growing as I digested this information, as the reality of my predicament settled in, but I wasn’t terrified. I should’ve been fucking terrified.
If Cristian was surprised at my composure, he didn’t show it. He leaned forward in his chair, examining me.
“It means, Sienna, that you have no escape,” he replied smoothly. “It means you will be by my side, my queen. And though you’ve never admitted it to yourself, and you certainly won’t admit it to me right now, you like that. You like the idea of traveling to the underworld. With its riches. Glamour. Danger. You fucking love the idea of the power you will wield as my wife.” He paused. “Moreover, this information has done nothing to your need for me. You would bend over this desk and let me fuck you hard and rough if that was what I asked.” He said all of this in the same tenor, low, deep, rich.
His voice caressed my bare skin, crept up my legs and burrowed inside of me. I clamped my thighs tight, as if I could possibly keep him out. It was much too late for that.
Hate radiated to my fingertips, and I clenched my fists on top of my thighs. I eyed a paperweight on Cristian’s desk, a clear, smooth round stone. It would work well at smashing his skull in. How quickly could I grab it, round the table and attack?
