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He nods up at me pitifully. “Yes, whatever you say. Just don't kill me.”
My lip curls as I look down at him wriggling on the floor like a worm. There's nothing that disgusts me more than a prick who can't man up and take his punishment with dignity. Fucking coward. He isn’t worthy of her. “Her name never leaves your lips again,” I instruct, my tone menacing. “You don't come near her. If you see her on the street, you don't look at her. You turn and go the other way. Don't even think about thinking about her. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” the man grits out.
“Count to two hundred and then get up out of here and get to the nearest hospital,” I order him.
He nods his head in understanding, but I don't really give a fuck if he obeys or not.
My hands still wrapped firmly around Grace's upper arm, I steer her out of the door and into my waiting vehicle.
It looks like plans have changed.
CHAPTER FOUR
Grace
Massimo practically drags me to the back of his waiting vehicle. He shoves me into the backseat before he folds his big body down gracefully behind me and slams the door shut. “Drive,” he snaps at his driver. The driver must hear the urgency in Massimo’s voice because he immediately punches the car into gear and takes off zipping down the street.
My mind is still reeling from everything that just happened as I try to process it all and catch up.
“What the fuck, Massimo?” My voice sounds shrill even to my own ears.
Massimo glances over at me and frowns. “Don't curse,” he berates me.
I let out an incredulous laugh. He just shot a man, and yet he has the audacity to reprimand me for cursing?
I look out the window, my heart fluttering when I see that we're not going toward my apartment. “Where are you taking me?” A tingle of warning goes up my spine.
“Somewhere you'll be safe.”
His tone brooks no argument, but I snap my head back to look at him and argue, anyway. “I want to go home.” I state my demand firmly.
Massimo doesn’t speak. He just presses his lips into a thin line.
“Massimo?” I prompt him.
He still doesn't look at me or speak.
“Take me home,” I try again.
He expels a heavy breath before he finally turns and looks at me, his eyes blazing. “No,” he says firmly. “Since you obviously cannot recognize danger when it’s right in front of you, you're coming home with me where you belong.” His tone is clipped, his eyes burning in anger.
I just stare at him, my mouth hanging open. This cannot be happening. He’s angry at me? Like any of this is my fault! “Are you kidnapping me?”
Massimo doesn't answer. He just tightens his jaw as he holds my gaze defiantly.
I don't know why I'm so surprised. Isn't this the next logical step up from stalking? After stalking, kidnapping? Isn't that what stalkers do? They watch their prey before they finally pounce?
“Massimo, you can't do this,” I try to reason with him. Oddly enough, my fear isn't really that he will hurt me so much as I’m bucking against having my freedom ripped away from me.
“I can do whatever I want,” he says coolly before he adds with a smirk, “or do you not know who I am by now?”
My cheeks flush as I realize he knows I looked him up. Of course, he knows. Isn't that a stalker’s job? To know everything about the person they're stalking?
I shake my head, “Please, Massimo,” I beg him. “I don't want this.”
Massimo’s eyes soften as he reaches out a hand to cup my cheek. A shiver runs down my spine at the contact, and I tremble beneath his touch against my will. “Oh, tesoro, you don't know what you want,” he tells me softly as he strokes his thumb along my cheekbone before he trails it over my bottom lip. My breath hitches as I stare up into the twin blue flames of his eyes.
