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My heart raced in my chest. He stood so close, his eyes dark and intense as he stared at me. I tried to picture him fighting and killing and selling drugs, but it was almost impossible. He was so handsome and slick, with his expensive suits and priceless watches, but when he came nearer, I could sense the edge in his voice. It was subtle, almost invisible, but I’d been around dangerous men my whole life, and I knew how they acted.
Carmine looked at the pulse in my throat like he was hungry. Like he wanted to bite in and rip my arteries with his teeth. He looked at my eyes and licked his lips, and I felt a twinge of excitement and fear run down into my guts and spread between my legs.
This man wasn’t what he seemed. So much of my life was like that—on the outside, I had it good. My father didn’t beat me. He didn’t scream at me. He gave me some freedoms, and whatever material things I asked for.
Except I was a prisoner. I barely ever left the compound. I’d never experienced the world before coming here to Carmine’s apartment. UTSD was the first place I was free, really free.
There was a darkness in Carmine. There were secrets beneath his surface, and I felt a sudden need to pry them all loose—not for Oscar, but for myself.
“What if you let me help you?” I asked suddenly.
He tilted his head and grabbed my right wrist. I gasped in surprise and he wrenched it up above my head, pinning it there. I tried to push him away with my left, but he grabbed that wrist too, and placed it next to my right. He held my hand above my head and stared into my eyes.
“How could you help me, princess?”
I clenched my jaw and breathed. I had to keep breathing. When he got this close, I lost my mind, and I was afraid that if I relinquished even a little bit of control, I’d never make it through this moment.
He was too intense. His lips and voice. His hands on my body. The power behind his muscles. He could tear me to pieces and there was nothing I could do to stop him. I doubted even Oscar could take him down. Carmine seemed so cool and rich and handsome, but he was a street fighter, I could see it now. Fear mixed with desire and it was like a heady intoxicant rushing through my skin, just beneath the surface.
“You’re in a war. Papa has gone through plenty of those. I know his business, and I think I can help.”
“You want to get involved in this? Why would you want that?”
“Because I’m here. I’m involved whether I like it or not.”
Another head tilt. Maybe a slight nod. “You want to shadow me then? We’ll never be apart.”
“I’m not sure—”
His grip tightened. “Then be sure,” he said, growling, vicious and on the edge of losing it. “You want to hear more about my business, princess? I’ll tell you, but you’ll never get out afterward. I’ll keep you as long as I want to.”
“If that’s what you need,” I whispered, breathless with need. His lips were so close to mine. I could lean forward and touch him. I could bite him, lick his teeth, taste his tongue. I wanted it again, but help myself back.
“I don’t need any of this,” he said, like it pained him. “You’re a distraction I really can’t afford, and I have a feeling you’ll report back to your father anything I say. But I’m fascinated by you. And you’re right, you might have some good insights.”
“So we’ll work together?”
He held my wrists so hard I thought they might break. But he released them a moment later and I gasped, rubbing them. My leg throbbed and my hands tingled from lack of blood.
“I’ll consider it,” he said. “I think you’re a spy, princess. But I don’t give a shit if your father knows what I’m up to.”
I am a spy! I wanted to scream. I was desperate for him to figure out my secret. If he understood what Oscar was doing to me, then he might be able to make it all stop.
But I couldn’t tell him. If I did, and something went wrong, I was finished. Death would be too good for a traitor like me. My father would make sure I suffered for a long time before he finally released me to hell, where the rest of the backstabbers went to burn for eternity.
No, I was stuck in this, unable to get out. Trapped and desperate. But maybe Carmine could help. Maybe, somehow. If I got lucky.
“If it helps, I don’t plan on telling Papa anything. That’s really not why I’m here.”
He shrugged, as if it truly wasn’t important. “How about this. If you want to be a part of my world, then you can start this weekend.”
