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Morana stayed silent, just watching him, his voice taunting, almost seductive with the temptation of death.
"You'll feel pain," he continued, undaunted. "Bleeding to death. You will feel every drop of blood that leaves your body.” His voice rolled over her skin. “Death will come, but much, much later. And the pain will be excruciating."
He held the knife steady to the spot, his voice suddenly chilling. "Now, if you don't want that, tell me who sent you and what drive you are talking about."
Morana blinked at him in confusion, before realization dawned. He didn't recognize her. Of course, he didn't. They had never really met, and as first meetings went, this one left a lot to be desired. He'd probably just seen her pictures in passing like she had his.
Wetting her dry lips, Morana whispered. "The drive is mine."
She saw his eyes narrow slightly. "Is it?"
Her own narrowed as well, the anger that had fled in the face of fear returning with a vengeance. "Yes, it is, you bastard. I worked my ass off on those codes and I'll be damned if I'll let you use it. Jackson stole it from me and I’ve traveled all the way from Shadow Port because I need it back."
There was a beat of silence, his eyes hovering over her features before surprise flared in them. "Morana Vitalio?"
Morana gave a sharp nod, careful of the blade at her throat. He looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on her wig and her lips, taking in every inch of her that he could before his gaze returned to hers.
"Well, well, well," he murmured, almost to himself as he pulled the blade away an inch, his scruffy jaw loosening now that he knew her identity.
She opened her mouth to ask him to take the knife away just as the door beside them banged loudly. Morana yelped a little in surprise and he let go of the hand above her head, putting his free hand over her mouth.
Seriously? What did he think she was going to do? Scream for help in the Outfit household?
"Tristan, have you seen anyone in the house? Someone knocked out Matteo downstairs," a heavy voice spoke from the other side, a slight accent deep in it.
Morana felt lead settle in her gut, her eyes widening as his gaze locked with hers, his right eyebrow rising as he answered back.
"No, I haven't." His eyes never moved from hers. "I'll be down in a few minutes."
Morana heard the steps shuffling away and after a few seconds, the hand from her mouth retreated. His body didn't.
"Would you mind removing the knife?" she asked quietly, her eyes pinning holes into him.
That raised eyebrow notched even higher before he leaned back in, the knife never moving an inch from the place. "You should know not to come into the house of the enemy, all alone, unprotected. And you should know never to sneak up on a predator. Once we catch the scent of your blood, it's a matter of the hunt."
Morana clenched her jaw, her palm itching to lay one on him and his patronizing attitude. "I want that drive back."
He stayed silent for one long second, before stepping back, releasing her arms but swiping the knives from her, checking them.
"Coming here was foolish, Miss Vitalio," he spoke quietly, looking at her. "Had my people found you, you’d be dead. If your people found out, you'd be dead. Did you want to start a war?"
Hypocrite much? Morana took a step closer to him, inches of space between their frames, glaring. "I'll be dead anyway, so it doesn't seem foolish. Do you have any idea what the contents of that drive can do? This hypothetical war you are accusing me of starting- imagine that but ten times worse." She inhaled deeply, trying to reason with him. "Look, just give me the codes so I'll destroy them and be on my merry way."
There was a heavy silence for long minutes, his eyes contemplating her, making her squirm a bit under the scrutiny. Handing her the knife after minutes that seemed to stretch, he spoke. "Under the stairs, there is a door. It'll lead you to the gates. Get out of here before someone sees you and chaos breaks. I'm having a quiet night after months and the last thing I want to do is clean up your blood."
Morana inhaled deeply, taking the knives from him. "Please."
For the first time, Morana saw something else flicker in his eyes. He just crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head to look at her.
"Take the door."
Sighing, she knew she was beaten. There was nothing else she could do. And going back home meant telling her father. Which meant either death or exile. Fuck.
Nodding, accepting the sour taste in her mouth, she turned on her heel, hand going to the knob on the door, feeling his eyes on her back.
"Miss Vitalio?"
She turned her neck to look back at him, to see his eyes glittering with something that made her heart skip and stomach flutter. He pinned her with the look for a long moment, before speaking.
