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“I’ll be fine, Elia. I’m entirely capable of being left here by myself.”
“I wouldn’t think you’re incapable.” He frowns, eyebrows pulling inward. “I was just going to say, Benito will remain on duty, even after I’m gone. I never know how long I’ll be, so, if for some reason you need to leave the house, just make sure you tell him so he can take you.”
“Oh, that isn’t necessary.” Like I want his crony tailing me on every trip I make. “I’m fine walking.”
“Walking?”
“That’s what I said.”
He reaches up and cups the back of his neck, rubbing a spot like he’s trying to erase it from his body. I know the feeling. “Caroline, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you can’t just go walking around town. Not without a security detail.”
“Why not?”
“Whynot? I thought you said you knew who I was.”
“I do, but what does that have to do with me?”
Exhaling, his hand drops, and he just shakes his head. “Just...tell Benito when you need to go somewhere. He’ll take you wherever.”
“And if I don’t? If I leave by myself?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he takes a few steps toward where I’m standing, until he’s so close he has to turn his head all the way down to look at me. It makes me feel two-feet-tall. Vulnerable.
“You don’t want the answer to that.” His voice is harsh, strained, and my ears crave more. More loss of control, more desperation—I want him to unleash the beast I feel percolating beneath the surface of his skin, hiding out in his veins.
I want to push him the way I’ve been pushed, to see how long it takes him to break.
My soul salivates for his—wants it as a trophy. Proof that I’m not the broken girl my father always said I was; just a prize to tout around before exacting my revenge on the others.
“But Ido.” My eyes lock onto his, and I see the monster lurking there. It calls out to mine, but I ignore it because that isn’t the game we’re playing here. “What do I have to do to make you hurt me?”
“Why the fuck would I want to do that?”
I sigh softly, reaching out and smoothing my hands down the front of his suit, flicking my fingers over the belt buckle. My hand grazes the unmistakable bulge in his slacks that hasn’t lessened since we pried our faces apart, and he inhales a sharp breath at the contact.
Men are so fucking easy.
Pinching his eyes closed, his hips shift forward into my palm, and I squeeze, ignoring the moisture slickening my thighs. Elia Montalto might be the king of King’s Trace, but he’s no match for me.
Like every other man before him, a quick stroke of his dick sends him into a frenzy, making my task here so much simpler.
He’ll never even see it coming.
Just as that thought flashes in my mind, Elia jerks back, breaking the connection. He moves, trapping my body between his and the counter. His hand curls around my throat, the pressure of his fingertips a startling contrast to how it felt having my father’s on me last week.
It’s light, just enough to prove his authority. Not like he wants to hurt me, but a warning that he absolutely could.
“I don’t think my pain is the kind you’ll recover from.” Dropping his hand and yanking away as if I’ve burned him, he turns on his heel and marches to the front door. “And I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, but I should warn you: I don’t lose. Ever. Now, stay here while I’m gone, and we can talk logistics when I return. Don’t leave this place unless Benito is in attendance. I don’t think I need to inform you that people rarely cross Montalto men and live.”
The door closes behind him, the sound echoing against the tall ceilings in this loveless castle, and pleasure floods my heart at his parting remarks.
That’s exactly what I’m counting on.
I’m not exactly a stranger to having someone tail me when I travel; as a senator’s daughter, it comes with the territory. But it’s an entirely different feeling when it’s not your father following you, and instead, a beefy bald man who looks like he could crush me with one thumb. At least he let Liv tag along.
Benito—who keeps insisting I call him Benny—drives me to Locust Grove, stopping at the curb of the last house in the neighborhood. And even though it’s only been forty-eight hours since I last stepped foot inside, it feels like an entire lifetime.
It doesn’t help that Elia hasn’t been home since the afternoon we got married; Benito won’t tell me where exactly he went, just that he’d be home whenever he finished the job. Of course, if I’d known his version of “protection” meant hiring a babysitter, I wouldn’t have bothered with the union at all.
