AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The brakes screech as I come to a stop, throwing the door open before the car is stationary. I take the front steps two at a time, giving a curt nod to the guards on duty. One of them is missing. What’s his name again? Darrell? David? I know it starts with a D.
My thoughts stop in their tracks when I open the door and find said security guard with my woman pushed against the wall, the robe she’s wearing barely covers her ass, and his hands are traveling up her thigh toward what I assume is her bare cunt.
Snow’s hair is still wet from her shower, and when her ice blue eyes clash with mine a mixture of fear and relief dance behind them. Her body shakes beneath his touch, but not in the same way she does when I have my hands on her, and if it weren’t for the searing rage boiling in my veins, perhaps I would be smug about that.
The guard follows my girl's scared gaze and his eyes clash with my own but he makes no attempt to remove his hands from what belongs to me.
“Boss,” he regards me as if we’re about to have a casual conversation. As if he doesn’t have his filthy hands all overmywoman.
I take measured steps toward them, keeping my eyes fixed on the guard. If I allow myself to watch Snow I’ll snap, and I can’t risk her getting caught in the crossfire, not with how deep my anger beats with my heart. “I suggest you remove your hands from my woman before I remove them from your body,” I growl, and the sound is barely human. Snow brings out every primal part of me, and I’m barely controlling the monster from tearing him apart.
“I was escorting Miss Saint James back to her quarters,” the lie slips from his lips with such confidence most people would believe the words, but when you lie for a living, you see through everyone’s bullshit.
“You were not,” Snow snaps, shoving at his arms but he has her in a vice grip.
“Shut up, bitch,” he snarls, pushing her harder into the wall until she lets out a squeak of pain. The small sound cracks my usually composed mask, and my body moves of its own accord. I grip him around the neck and tear his body from Snow. He matches me in almost every way, size, weight, muscle, but there’s one very important difference between us. My woman has been threatened, and that means I’m more unpredictable and savage than usual and seeing as I’ve made my name killing people in cold blood, that doesn’t bode well for him.
Snow falls to her knees and the front of her robe pulls open as she hits the ground.
I whip Dwayne’s body to the side. “Close your fucking eyes because I will not hesitate to gouge them out if you see my woman’s tits.” The venom in my words makes Snow flinch, her trembling hands rushing to tug the ties closed, but she remains on the ground and pushes herself back until she hits the wall. It’s not often Snow shows outward fear, but in the last twenty-four hours I’ve seen it twice, and I fucking hate it. My woman should fear nothing because she should know that I will never let anything hurt her.
For the first time since his eyes landed on me coming through the door, Dwayne shows his first outward sign of uncertainty. It’s only small, a slight shake in his hands when they grip at my arm, trying to pry it away from his neck, but it’s there, nonetheless. It’s also the first sign this guy never should have been working for me in the first place. To work for me, you need to be cold and ruthless, able to stare death in the face and take a step forward, but this motherfucker would run in the opposite direction if I gave him half a chance.
“She was flirting with me. She wanted me to tell her brothers she’s here against her will.”
I almost laugh. Perhaps I would if the anger wasn’t threatening to tear my body apart. Of course my little spitfire tried to orchestrate an escape, tried to make an alliance with someone on the inside. Hell, I would be surprised if she didn’t because if I were in her shoes, I would do the exact same thing. People like us, people who grew up the way we did, we know what needs to be done, and how to appeal to people’s baser instincts, including their need to survive.
Snow brings her knees up to her chest, resting her cheek on them as she watches the scene quietly. If that weren’t the case, she would rush to correct him, but she remains quiet.
“That may be the case, Dwayne,” his name tastes bitter on my tongue, the sound of it only causing the rage to boil higher. “But that does not give you permission to touch what doesn’t belong to you.” I kick his knees from behind, forcing him to fall to them, but I don’t release my grip around his neck. The gun in my waistband burns into my skin, begging to be used to end this asshole's miserable existence.
“Elijah,” Snow whispers and when my eyes snap to meet her, I can’t tell if she’s pleading with me to kill him or spare his life. There’s conflict in the ice, as if she isn’t sure of that herself. My Snowflake hasn’t seen the violence the rest of her family has, but she’s about to see what crossing a man like me leads to.
“Hush, Snow. I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
Her eyes flare with a mixture of fear and arousal, but I don’t allow myself to dwell on it for even a second. The man kneeling before me needs to be taken care of before I punish my naughty Snowflake for her attempts to run from me, although clearly not well executed, she still needs to know it will not be tolerated in the future.
“She was begging for it, coming into the kitchen wearing nothing but a robe. I can’t be held accountable for that shit.”
I dig my forearm farther into his neck, causing the last few words to come out garbled and unclear. If he knows what’s good for him, he'll shut the fuck up before he digs himself a shallow grave. But he’s an idiot. He thinks I’ll side with my men over my woman, and he’s dead wrong.
There’s only one person in my life who isn’t expendable, and she and everyone else are about to find out just how true that is.
31
Snow
I’ve always been reckless. Call it youngest child syndrome, or the result of growing up in a Mafia family. Call it whatever the fuck you want because it’s probably true. I’ve taken off on international trips with men I met half an hour before departure and danced on tables in dangerous bars. I’ve flirted with danger more times than I will ever admit to any member of my family, but something tells me I’ve never been in more danger than I am right now.
Elijah is feral with rage, his moss-green eyes flaming with his anger, and with each moment that passes, his grip on Dwayne only tightens.
The large man’s body seems small in my captors embrace, despite them being the same size if they were standing side by side. His eyes dart to mine, the silent plea in the distaste. He thinks I’m going to save him, but if he doesn’t realize Elijah has already made up his mind and not even I could change it, he’s truly as dumb as he looks.
“Snow,” Elijah rumbles, tearing my attention back to his face. His jaw is tightly set, the muscles in his neck flexing under the pressure of his anger. “Go into my office, open the top drawer of my desk and bring me the contents.”
There’s no room for argument in his words, and while it’s in my nature to fight every instruction I’m ever given, I find myself sliding up the wall and padding down the hallway. Since the second night I was here I’ve assumed this door is always locked, but when I turn the handle and the heavy wood swings open, my chest falters. Surely he hasn’t left this open every day I’ve been here? Surely I haven’t had the key to my escape at my disposal and I didn’t know it.
I take quick steps toward the desk, not allowing myself to look too closely at the room. If I fall down this rabbit hole now and leave Elijah waiting, something tells me that would be an even bigger mistake than trying to talk my way out of here.
