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Sienna
I spent my time at Gucci thinking through my options. I’d expected him to barge into the store, ready to drag me back to the house. I knew I’d owe him money, and I knew it would be another reason to make me stay.
I hadn’t planned on spending more than the initial tip.
Hell, it was the reason I’d left it. I needed his boys to track me, after all, and I’d expected to piss him off.
Only one of those things had happened, apparently.
Dante followed me from shop to shop as I racked up the number on his card. Giving him the illusion that that’s why I’d escaped in the first place.
Each place was progressively more expensive than the last. Each one was more useless than the one before.
He followed me closely enough that passersby likely thought I was being tailed by a bodyguard rather than an agitated mob boss. By the fourth shop, I began to wonder if I’d made a mistake by doing this.
I’d gotten what I wanted in tracking his response time. Hell, I’d gone above and beyond and made sure that I owed him enough money to ensure that he wouldn’t release me just yet. But why did this feel more like a date and not a hostage situation?
He should have been livid as the number climbed into the ten-thousand-dollar range—far more than I could ever hope to repay monetarily. Yet, he didn’t even flinch as I swiped the card over and over again.
He just stared with those emotionless dark eyes that sent chills straight into my soul.
As I left the sixth store, I bit my lip and turned toward him. My hands were full enough that I could either ask him to carry my bags or concede. While conceding wasn’t in my nature, I couldn’t bring myself to ask for his help either.
“I’m done,” I finally told him.
For the first time in nearly an hour, he responded, “I parked over there.”
I followed where he pointed and heaved a deep sigh as I approached his vehicle, arms tired from carrying everything for this long.
“Why aren’t you pissed?”
I stared at his back as he guided me in the direction of his car. I felt he could sense where I walked behind him, despite not looking over his shoulder to respond.
“It isn’t necessary.”
“I doubt you got so influential without flipping out on a few people,” I countered. Valentino had constantly berated people whenever he was pissed off. I’d been on the receiving end of it more times than not, but it worked to intimidate others, too.
“When someone does their job right, they don’t need to raise their voice to be heard.”
I pondered the truth of that statement.
“What do you do when people don’t respond to a reasonable tone?”
“Usually, I kill them.”
I knew I’d about reached my limit. I couldn’t continue pushing him, or I’d risk losing everything I’d worked to gain here. I had to back off for now, or he may get angry enough to actually do just that.
“You threaten to kill me a lot for someone who hasn’t so far.”
His voice didn’t come for a few seconds. Only once he had the door open to the car, gesturing me inside, did he reply. “I haven’t threatened to kill you. I’ve just reminded you of how precarious your situation is.”
I thought back. He’d told me how easy it would be to kill me. In the immediate questioning, he’d made a threat. But overall,he’d been warning me, not threatening me. It was almost as if he didn’twantto kill me.
Based on how he’d let women go during my stalking, I didn’t think he did. I couldn’t understand why he had that boundary, but I wouldn’t question it when I was using it to my advantage.
“I don’t make threats,” he admitted. “I just present options, and if someone chooses the wrong one, they suffer the consequences.”
He closed the door before I could say anything more.
