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So I wouldn’t go for a run.
Remembering Cristian’s thick, defined arms, I figured that he had a gym around this mansion somewhere. I couldn’t imagine a mob boss went to a Club Fitness.
And I was right.
It was huge. Top of the line weights and equipment. It was sophisticated. Everything in shades of soft wood and black. Mirrors everywhere. There was a bathroom. A steam room.
Crime paid, it seemed.
I ran eight miles and could’ve run eight more, but I had to go to work. There was still no one around as I ate a bagel in the kitchen, and I didn’t encounter anyone on the stairs up to my room. When I got to the hallway, my eyes traveled toward Cristian’s room, staring at the closed door. My fists were clenched at my sides, fighting the need to go down there, search for him. He wouldn’t be in there. Cristian didn’t strike me as a man who slept in. Even better if he wasn’t in there, I could snoop around his room, try to find out who he was, search for some kind of weapon to use against him.
But I didn’t have time for that. I had a job. Cristian had spouted some bullshit about me getting an allowance, about being clad in designer clothes and drenched in diamonds, but no way was I accepting all of that. This was temporary. When I found my way out of this, I needed my job, I needed money.
So I turned and walked into the white bedroom, smiling at the blood red stain on the carpet and avoiding the mussed sheets that smelled of Cristian.
Showering and dressing in the designer clothes did nothing to quell my mood. The insides of my thighs were covered in bruises. And my hips.
He’d done that on purpose. Marked me. Shown me the evidence of how weak I was. And I fucking liked it. I liked seeing the marks on my skin. The evidence of the kind of man he was, that he wasn’t afraid to hurt me.
There was no escape from this. Not just because he was threatening Jessica and Eli. But because he was under my skin.
I hadn’t thought about how I was going to get into work until I walked downstairs. This compound was forty-five minutes out of the city. The driveway itself was winding and at least two miles long. I didn’t know where the nearest train station was. Scowling at my lack of foresight and the situation in general, I got my phone out, preparing to call for a ride.
Then something dark appeared in my periphery.
My eyes snapped up, finding Felix in front of me.
I was proud of myself for not jumping back in surprise. In fear. Instead, my scowl stayed in place.
“Are you just skulking in the shadows, following me?” I snapped.
His expression stayed placid, though his mouth turned up. “Yes, I am, Sienna.” My name sounded different coming from his mouth. It seemed ... richer. Dirtier. Like he was tasting my fucking pussy as he said it.
My lips pursed. I hadn’t expected him to admit it so readily, his words tasting like sex.
His eyes flickered up and down my body and I felt their entire journey. My skirt was bright red, skimming over my every curve. The blouse I was wearing matched the skirt in color and set off the tan in my skin, showing the swell of my breasts. I’d piled my hair up messily, smeared that same red on my lips. I’d meant it as a statement, something aggressive.
Suddenly, the silky fabric on my skin was much too heavy, and my nipples fought against the thin lace of my bra.
He taunted me with his knowing stare, with my body’s reaction to him for a handful of seconds before he spoke.
“I’m assuming you want to go to work,” he said, eyes landing on mine.
My mind snapped back into place. “Yes,” I replied. “And I refuse to be driven like I’m some fucking hostage.”
Really, I just didn’t think I would survive being in an enclosed space with him. I didn’t trust myself.
He tilted his head, regarding me with amusement. “Cristian has a collection of cars in his garage.” He held up his hand to show a set of keys dangling from his fingers. “I took the liberty of choosing one for you.” His eyes twinkled. “If you can handle it.”
Rage bubbled in my throat, and I stomped over to him, snatching the keys from his hand. “Oh, honey, you couldn’t even imagine what I could handle,” I murmured, leaning in, never taking my eyes from his. I made sure to linger there for a few beats, my expression structured, my heart thundering in my chest. Then, when I was satisfied, I turned on my heel and walked out of the house.
It felt exceptionally strange to walk into my office as if nothing had changed.
