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While trying to block out the images that flashed through my mind earlier, I shake my head and brush my hands down my dress as I stride towards another cabinet. This one is not as tall as the one full of kinky sex stuff, but it’s wider.
I open it.
Metal gleams in the bright light from the lamp in the ceiling as the doors swing open.
Yet again, I find myself staring.
Rows of knives line the shelves of the cabinet. Some are arranged in what almost looks like display cases while others rest on small racks. Raising my hand, I gently draw my fingers over the gleaming hilts.
My pulse thrums in my ears.
And because of what I saw in that other cabinet, my thoughts spiral down into all kinds of unacceptable places as I stare at those glittering knives. I curl my fingers around the hilt of a blade and lift it off its rack while my pulse jumps at the memory of how it felt when Kaden pressed one like it against my throat.
“Don’t touch that.”
I gasp.
Alarm crackles through me, and I whip around so fast that I drop the knife in my haste. It clatters to the floor a short distance from me.
My stomach bottoms out and fear washes through me, drowning my insides in cold water, as I come face to face with the source of the voice.
Kaden Hunter is standing halfway across the room, staring at me. Tension pulses around his lethal body, and the expression on his face makes my blood freeze solid.
There is no smirk on his mouth. No scheming glint in his eyes. No taunting arch of his eyebrows.
His dark eyes are as cold and bottomless as the arctic sea, and his mouth is a severe slash across his face.
Panic shoots up my spine.
Oh God, he’s going to kill me.
“Do you have any idea what I do to people who touch my things?” he demands, threats dripping like poison from his every word. His harsh stare slides to the blades in the open cabinet behind me before he locks eyes with me again. “Let alone my knives?”
Shallow breaths saw through my throat.
In hindsight, I should probably have realized it. With a room this meticulous, he just had to be one of those people who hate it when others touch his stuff. And he does seem to have an unhealthy relationship with his knives in particular.
Fuck, I need to get out of here.
My gaze darts towards the window that I climbed in through. It’s too far for me to reach now that Kaden is in the room. As is the door, which he is blocking with his tall and muscular body. I flick a glance down at the knife I dropped.
Kaden notices, and the expression on his face darkens.
“I will give you one chance to choose your next course of action.” His eyes bore into me as he slides out two throwing knives. Hellfire burns like cold flames in those dark depths. “Depending on what you choose, this night will go very differently for you.”
I suck in a small shuddering breath. Oh God, he’s furious. He’s not playing around this time. He’s absolutely furious, and if I don’t do something, he is actually going to kill me for touching his knives.
With growing panic clanging inside my skull, I glance between the window, the door, and the knife again. But I know that none of those options will end well for me.
Fuck. What does he want? What can I do to—
Realization strikes like a lightning bolt. The rooftop. The video of Mikhail. I know exactly what Kaden Hunter wants. What he seems to crave more than anything. And what might just placate him and stop him from slitting my throat right now.
Groveling. He wants people to kneel and beg.
So I do.
Dropping to my knees, I press my palms to the floor before me and bow my head. “Please. Mercy. I’m begging you.”
