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This is not the casino or the building I know his team lives in. Something bad starts to fester in my gut, and I know this won’t end well.
Ivan grabs the bag and tosses the keys to a small, suited man, who races out of the building. When I don’t get out of the car immediately, he comes around and opens the door, his knuckles white on top of the window. “Get the fuck out of the car, Cilla. I won’t fight with you right now. I’ll merely pull you out and toss you over my shoulder, and later we’ll discuss your punishment.”
No matter what he thinks, I don’t have a fight in me either way. He leads me to an elevator, then up several floors, and stops outside a textured chrome door. We go inside, and I stop in the entryway. My gaze swings around the room as I drink it in.
The place is huge, wide open, with windows lining one whole side of the room. The furniture is minimal and low, so it doesn’t block the view.
“What is this place? Another safe house?”
He sighs. “Sort of. I have my place at the casino. This one Adrian bought me to use, but I rarely come here. Most of the time, I forget it exists. So I guess it’s my apartment?”
I stare around, looking for something that speaks about him. Anything? There’s a low stack of glasses on a bar around the corner and a small table but not much else. Even the massive pieces of art on the walls don’t really feel like him. He’s got a brutal sort of beauty that I don’t see in any part of this cool, calm space.
After inspecting the place, I tiptoe into the room he disappeared into. It’s a bedroom, the furniture the same as the other room, minimal and functional. One big bed is pushed out of the formation of the room so it sits flush against the wall of windows. Like you could roll over and fall right out if the glass wasn’t there. “Is this your room?” I don’t even give him a chance to speak. “And if so, where am I sleeping?”
He hangs up a couple of things in the closet and flips off the light. “You will sleep here with me. I don’t want you out of my sight.”
His words make me jolt. “What? What could I possibly do?”
His eyes narrow, and he skirts around me to face the windows. “I don’t know. That’s the point. Until I understand you better and your motivations, I don’t want you far from my sights or reach.”
I stare at the ceiling to hold the tears threatening to slip free at bay. When I know I won’t cry in front of him anymore, I meet his eyes and nod.
“Fine. Do what you want with me. Everyone else does.”
His jaw tightens, and he turns, stalking back over to me and stopping so we are chest to chest. “Don’t you dare imply I’m anything like them.”
I let him see what I think in my eyes. Let the accusation hang between us. It might fester and make things worse, but I don’t care. He thinks he is so much better than them. That he can take what he wants from me, when he wants, and because he makes it pleasurable, protects me, that I’ll say thank you and curl up at his feet.
I glare, and he glares back, his mouth so close to mine I can feel his warm breath on my lips and chin. Another minute passes, if my pounding heart is any indication, and he breaks away, stalking back into the living room.
He grabs something by the door and heads into the other space opposite this room. I follow because what the fuck else am I going to do right now?
I enter to watch him place some weapons on a very intricate wall. The entire room is a peg board that holds various guns, knives, and other sharp objects. They gleam under the overhead lighting. I should be afraid, but strangely, I’m not. If anything, I’m curious and intrigued.
Drawers line the floor, which I assume contains ammunition for all of these lovely weapons. “Holy shit. You have your own damn armory.”
He places a few things on the display. “There’s a bigger one in the penthouse. This is just my own collection.”
Forget only being curious… I’m pretty sure I’m almost turned on. My insides heat, my core clenching around nothing.
“So what now? You’re going to babysit me until you slaughter what’s left of my family?”
He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. “You want to watch? Or would you rather I lock you up the entire time? If I had my way, you’d have a gun in your hand and be by my side helping me. I think one day, you’ll regret not taking things into your own hands. You’ll regret not getting your own revenge.”
