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“I think I’ll just take you instead. I’m sure I’ll find a use for you at my house. You can work off your brother’s debt for him.”
Take me? His house?“You can’t do that. You can’t justtakea person like they’re a goddamn car or something. You can’t just walk in here and expect me to —”
He stands and looks at Maximo. “Start throwing some of her things into a bag.”
I jump up from my chair. “I am not going anywhere with you,” I shout, but Maximo is already walking out of the room.
“Donottouch my things,” I yell, about to run after him, but Dante holds out his arm and stops me.
“Behave, little kitten,” he warns, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You won’t like me when I’m upset.”
I screech in his face, “I hate you. You fucking monster! You can’t do this. You can’t…” I beat my fists against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. I may as well be punching a steel wall. After a few seconds, he takes hold of my wrists and I’m left staring up into his face with tears running down my cheeks.
“If I let you go so you can help Maximo pack your things, do you promise not to throw anything else at his head?”
No. I’ll throw my goddamn TV at his head if I get the chance.“Yes,” I sniff instead.
He releases my wrists and steps aside to allow me out of the room, before he follows me down the hallway.
“You can’t do this. People will miss me, you know? They’ll wonder where I am.”
“No, they won’t,” he replies in that calm, confident tone that also drips with arrogance and entitlement.
I die a little more inside as I realize he’s right.
Chapter2
Dante
Katerina’s arms and legs are crossed as she hugs her body and tries to make herself as small as possible, nestled against the corner of the car so she is as far from me as she can physically be. I had to accompany her in the back in case she tried to pull any shit to escape. She threw a baseball bat and a gun at Maximo’s head, tried to shoot him, and then punched me in the chest all in the space of fifteen minutes, so I’m pretty sure we got ourselves a live wire.
I can sense Maximo’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror every few minutes, probably wondering what the hell I’m even thinking of bringing her to my house instead of making an example of her.
I have no answer to that question though. No reasonable explanation as to why I’m taking her as a payment for her brother’s debt instead of doing whatever necessary to make sure she doesn’t have any information that might lead me to the slippery little fuck. There’s something about her that intrigues me. I looked into her when we were trying to find Leo. She trained to be a nurse, and she worked as one in Northwestern Memorial for three years. She was good at it too. I read all of her performance reviews. Incredible with patients and respected by her colleagues.
Then two years ago, she quit, and nobody from the hospital ever heard from her again. She left her nice apartment block and moved to one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city. She took a night shift, cleaning empty office blocks. Besides that, she rarely leaves the house.
She’s a mystery. A puzzle I want to solve. I’ve always been good at reading people. Usually, within a few minutes, I can figure out their story, but not her. That’s what intrigues me. It has nothing to do with her bright blue eyes and the fire in them when she stood up to Maximo and me. Nothing to do with her perky tits straining against that cleaning uniform she has on beneath her coat, or her full pink lips and how good they would look if I was fucking her smart mouth. And absolutely nothing to do with the way her blatant defiance and disregard for who I am made me harder than I’ve ever been in my life.
No. Not that at all.
* * *
When we pullup at my house, Katerina cranes her neck to get a full view of the place. It’s huge, with two wings, one for me, and one for my brother and his wife. But he’s not living here right now. No doubt, she’s looking for ways to escape though. She won’t find any.
Once Maximo has stopped the car, I climb out and walk around to her side. When I pull the door open, she scowls at me.
“You can walk into the house, or I will carry you in. And you can kick and scream for help and not one single person here will stop me or come to your rescue.”
She glares at me as she weighs her options, and a few seconds later, she steps out of the car, her jaw set in defiance even as she follows me the few steps to the house, while Maximo grabs the small suitcase of personal belongings she gathered from her place. She didn’t bring much, just a few clothes and toiletries and a photo album.
Maximo called ahead once we knew we were going to have a new houseguest. My housekeeper, Sophia, opens the door.
“Mr. Moretti,” she says with a polite nod.
“Sophia, this is Katerina. Can you show her to her room?”
“Of course, sir,” she replies, opening the door and ushering Katerina inside.
