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He’s bluffing.
I look between his impassive face and the blackening surface of the ring, unable to believe he’ll go through with it.
“I prefer that you wear it on your finger,” he says. “But as I said, it’s your choice.”
When he kills the flame and reaches for me, I shrink back. His fingers curl around my bicep, dragging me closer. I fight his hold, clawing at his forearm, but my efforts have no effect. He brushes my hair over my shoulder, taking care not to touch my skin with the ring, and kisses a spot on my neck.
A shudder runs through me.
He’s going to do it—right there where he pressed his lips on my skin.
“Wait,” I cry out, straining in his grasp.
He blows over the spot that’s wet from his kiss, making my skin contract. “It’ll hurt, but I’ll put you out first.”
Wait. What? Put me out? What does that even mean?
“No.” I claw at him again. “I’ll wear the ring.”
He stills. “What was that?”
I push him off me. “I’ll wear the ring.”
“Definitely the better choice.”
He goes to the table and drops the ring in the glass. It makes a hissing sound when it hits the water. He stirs the water a few times with his finger before taking the ring out and rubbing the black off on a napkin. Gripping my hand, he pushes it back onto my thumb.
He closes his fingers around my nape again, pulling me closer and bringing his lips to my ear. “If you ever take it off, I’ll know.”
I don’t ask how. I don’t want to own that knowledge. My legs buckle a little. I just want to go home.
Not daring to look at him for fear of seeing the smug victory in his eyes, I walk to the door.
He steps in front of me, cutting me off. “How did you get here?” I push past, but he grabs my arm. “Who brought you?”
“I drove.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes.”
Not letting go of my wrist, he grabs his jacket from a hook on the back of the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Driving you home.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“You have a learner license. Driving alone is illegal and dangerous.”
I gape at him. “You’re worried about illegal driving after you broke into our house?”
“I didn’t break in.” He lets me go to pull on his jacket. “You let me in. And it’s your safety I’m concerned about.”
“I may have let you in but only because you tricked and deceived me.”
Taking my arm again, he opens the door. “You’ll get over it.”
“Fuck you.”
“We’re going to have a serious talk about that mouth.”
“Let me go.”
“Stop struggling, Sabella.” He tightens his hold. “I told you I’m going to see you home safely.”
“Don’t pretend to care about my safety.”
“I don’t have to pretend.”
He drags me across the foyer and into the elevator. We get out when the doors open on the ground level. People stare as he steers me through the lobby, but he pays them no heed. A man with a shaved head dressed in a dark suit waits outside.
Angelo takes a key from his pocket and throws it at the man. “Follow us.” He motions at my mom’s Audi. “Is this her car?”
The man nods.
Angelo dips his hand into my back pocket and pulls out the key.
“Hey.” I try to grab it from him, but he holds it out of reach. “Give that to me.”
The man gets into a Mercedes parked in the lot while Angelo bundles me into the passenger side of my mom’s car.
“Who’s that man?” My tone is sarcastic. “Your bodyguard?”
“Yours,” he says, starting the engine.
“What?”
“His name is Roch.” He pronounces it like rock. “He’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
I cross my arms, facing forward. “To make sure I don’t run to the police?”
He only chuckles, knowing very well if my father is involved in paying bribes, going to the police isn’t an option.
Some of the fight has left me, bringing on sudden exhaustion. Without the armor of anger, I’m frightened. How will my dad react? Will he hate me? Will my naivety and disregard for his wishes ruin our relationship?
We drive in silence, Roch following in the Mercedes.
At our house, Angelo stops in front of the gates and cuts the engine. “See you soon, cara.”
“I don’t think so.”
He only smiles, gets out, and closes his door.
When I don’t move, he comes around to my window. “Go inside.”
He doesn’t get to tell me what to do, but it’s almost dinner time, and I don’t want my parents to go look for me at Colin’s house. I don’t want them to see me outside our house with Angelo.
He opens my door and offers me a hand. Ignoring his proffered palm, I take the key from the console between the seats and get out. His eyes burn holes at the back of my head as I let myself through the gate, but I don’t look back. Not this time. Never again.
