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I laughed, gauging the distance to the back door that led to an alley. If I could make it outside, I’d stand a fighting chance. If not… I couldn’t allow myself to go down that dark path.
He seemed to sense my thoughts, shifting closer, his grin widening. “If you try and escape, your punishment will be worse.”
“And if you try and touch me, I’ll cut you. Trust me, Cruz, if that’s even your real name, my aim is spectacular.”
He took a deep breath as he allowed his gaze to fall all the way down my quivering body. “My name is Riccardo Montenegro, but my friends call me Cruz.” He allowed his statement to linger, waiting for any sign of recognition.
Several ugly memories flashed into my mind. The name was familiar, yet I couldn’t put my finger on why. Then I realized where I’d heard it, the name spoken in fury from my uncle’s lips as he swore that one day, he’d put a bullet in the man’s brain. If what my uncle had told me was close to being the truth, Cruz was truly the devil in disguise, a beautiful villain who’d killed my family. There was no sense of the same passion I’d felt as I rushed toward him, lifting my arm into the air, prepared to drive the blade into his heart.
“You bastard! You killed my family.” As soon as I was within two feet, he snapped his hand around my arm, swinging me around in the other direction as he wrapped his other arm around my waist. He yanked me against his body, slowly exhaling, allowing his hot breath to fall across my neck. I cringed realizing his cock was hard, pressing against my bottom. Even worse, the flutter of butterflies in my stomach was a clear indication I was still attracted to the monster.
“Let go of the knife, Carmella.” He twisted my arm, but I refused to let go, taking several deep breaths as pain rushed into my muscles.
“My name is Eden,” I hissed, grinding my teeth as he wrenched my arm until the pain was blinding, but I refused to drop the knife.
“I don’t want to hurt you; however, I will if necessary.”
“That’s what you really wanted to do all along. Isn’t it? Hurt me? To make me pay for some unknown atrocity that occurred between you and my uncle? Why bother? You destroyed my life years ago.”
He laughed, the sound bitter and angry. “You were told a lie. Your uncle destroyed the one thing that was precious to me.”
“No. That’s not true!” But was it?
“We will agree to disagree.” I sensed sadness swelling from deep within him.
I struggled, twisting my body as the anguish became biting. “You killed them. His wife. My parents. Why? Is this about money? Power? Destroying Devon? Why? Is this about Annie?” The name came to me, the one my uncle had spouted off in fury, threatening to kill the man responsible. Cruz.
He issued a single sound that nearly tore my heart in two.
I was shocked that his grip loosened, his breathing more ragged than before. I was no fool, using that single break in his toxic hold to butt my head against his forehead. I found enough strength I managed to slide out of his grasp, twisting immediately. Then I kicked him hard in the stomach, his body pitching backwards.
There was nothing so terrifying as the sound of his animalistic growl. “You’ll pay for that.”
As the knife slipped from my fingers, clinking against the wooden floor, I dropped to my knees quickly, able to wrap my fingers around the handle. He lunged forward, tackling me to the floor.
This time, I held onto the weapon, prepared to drive the blade into his neck. As he’d done before, he wrapped his hand around my wrist, holding my arm in place. His chest rose and fell as he peered down at me.
I wriggled, slamming my other fist against his chest. “Get off me.”
He slowly cocked his head, smacking his massive hand over my fist then lifting my arm over my head. It seemed as if all time stood still, a strange crackle of electricity keeping me immobilized. I was immediately intoxicated by his scent, trying desperately to ignore his mesmerizing cerulean blue eyes, the color as rich and intense as the ocean, more so in the dim light. He’d drawn me in with his masculinity, his voice, and his evocative prowess. Then he’d lured me into his lair with his seductive nature, whispering words of sin and sex, dominance and submission.
And I’d fallen for his bullshit, pretending I could savor a moment of pure ecstasy.
“Is that what you want, Eden? To cut me? To end my life?”
“Yes.”
He lowered his head, fire and power dancing in his eyes. The feel of his full weight was as arousing as it was repulsive.
“Then do it. I assure you that I’ve been dead inside for years,” he challenged, easing his hand from my wrist, providing me with the single opportunity to destroy him. “But if you do, you’ll be denying yourself the one thing you’ve always wanted and could never find. The truth.”
“Let me guess. You think you’re going to provide it for me?”
“I guess that remains to be seen.” He lifted his chin, allowing me the opportunity to drive the tip of my knife against his jugular. But just as the prick created a bead of blood, I realized I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t a trained killer, nor did I want to cross a line my father and uncle had. It had never been talked about, my mother acting as if my father walked on water, but I’d known who and what my father had become. I’d heard things, seen things. I’d even witnessed enough that I knew to be afraid of both men.
I shuddered beneath Cruz’s hold, the feel of his throbbing cock pressing against me a reminder of the passionate moments we’d shared, every touch burning with white-hot heat. Even now, a raging fire burned deep within, pushing me to the point of madness. No man had ever ignited the level of passion that he’d managed, pushing every need to the brink to where I no longer cared about anything but being with him.
And I hated myself for it.
