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“Walk into this room and you had better be prepared for the consequences.”
That was when I took in the rigid set of his body, his hands clamped on the closet door frame, jaw ticcing erratically. A flicker of awareness took root; the rational voice in the back of my mind told me to turn around and run. That I wasn’t ready for whatever was about to happen next. But the other part of me rose up, taking the challenge, refusing to back down.
“What are you going to do? Hurt me?” Then I brazenly stepped over the threshold like I was so smart, proving a point.
He stormed the distance between us, something completely rabid flashing in his eyes before he grabbed my jaw hard enough to bruise. He shattered every expectation I had when his lips slammed over mine. I froze, but he wouldn’t allow my lack of participation. His lips were demanding, totally unforgiving, taking from me everything I didn’t even know I wanted to give him until that moment. I’d never really been kissed properly before, and I didn’t know what I thought it would be like—sweet, chaste, careful? But Giovanni kissed me like I owed him something and he was there to collect. It was lips and tongue and teeth. Angry, lashing strokes that punished until I tasted the metallic tang of my own blood. My fingers went to his hair, his hands bruising my thighs as he lifted and pinned me to the wall. It was like my body wasn’t even my own in that moment. I was lost to him. Wanted him. Needed him.
And then he was gone. I stumbled on my feet as he forced distance between us, his chest heaving as he watched me try to catch my breath. Every inch of skin was tingling and sparking where he’d touched me.
“Leave, Emilia.” When I didn’t immediately do so, his hand slammed into the wall beside my head. “Now!”
I jumped and numbly staggered into the hall, confused by what the hell had just happened. When I climbed into bed, I could still feel his kiss branding my lips. A kiss I should have hated, one I definitely didn’t. Then again, maybe I would have liked any kiss. It was my first real one. Compared to that, Matt Jones pecking me on the lips did not count.
I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip and winced at the sting from the small wound there.
It took what felt like forever to calm my racing heart enough for sleep to find me, and when it did, my dreams weren’t full of the murderous, dark creatures from previous nights; they were filled with sapphire eyes and harsh touches that I craved.
_____
When I ventured out of my room the next day, the entire apartment still smelled like smoke, and the kitchen was pretty badly damaged. At the time, it seemed ingenious, putting a pan of oil in the oven. There I was, thinking it would smoke and set off the alarm, and it worked, right up until it burst into uncontrollable flames. Guilt niggled at me for launching the barstool at that guy, but it wasn’t like I could get past him fairly. Not that it mattered. Four men were waiting for me the second the elevator doors opened in the lobby. Just like Giovanni had said they would be. I was reckless, but not “take on guys with guns” reckless.
In the cold light of day, shame had set in over what had happened last night. I had kissed Giovanni, and I was mortified. So to avoid bumping into him—not the easiest feat in his own damn apartment—I took a cup of coffee up to the roof. I half expected the door to be locked again or for him to have fitted extra security, but he hadn’t. Yet.
I spent most of the afternoon sitting up there, a blanket pulled around me to fight off the first chill of fall in the air. For a moment, I tried to picture what my life would be like if I lived here, if I married him.
How long did I have until I had to make a decision? How long to try to escape again? Freedom had never felt so far away, and I was going to be forced to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea. It felt like I had a noose around my neck, and my toes were barely clinging to the edge of the stool I was standing on.
The sun was high in the sky when the door to the roof swung open. I expected Giovanni, but instead, Tommy appeared. His red hair caught in the bright light as he flashed me a wide smile. He was wearing a suit and had a plastic bag in one hand.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” I unfolded my legs, ready to get away from him. Was this it? Had Giovanni finally had enough and sent him to take me back to Chicago?
