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The cold rings on his fingers warmed against my skin as he searched my gaze. I couldn’t think, couldn’t fight, could only whisper, “What did you say?”
“You belong to me,” he moaned, his tone daring me to say otherwise.
“No,” I lied. “I don’t. I'd thought maybe we could be friends, but now I see I was wrong.”
“Just friends?”he sneered cruelly.“Because your dad works for me?”
I flinched at the words. My gaze shifted to the hallway, to his two shadows and the open door of the party. Kat moved onto the doorway, watching us.
“He doesn’t workforyou,” I said quietly.
Careful.
“Yes…hedoes.”His gaze bored into mine. “And so do you. If you think I haven’t thought about you every fucking day, then you’re wrong. Two years, Anna. Two fucking years you’ve been there.”
I’ve been there.Sure, while he had a steady stream of girlfriends. “Wow, how awful for you. I’m sure you buried your loneliness soon enough between the next woman’s thighs.”
“You mean the trophies?” The words were cutting and cruel. There wasn’t a hint of warmth there, not one sparkle in his gaze…not like there was with me. “You think I like them?I fuckinghate it.Nothing more than a Salvatore, nothing more than my fucking father’s son.”
Hate rolled through him with the venom and the pain.This was a side of him I’d never seen before, one he'd kept hidden, even from me.
“I fuckingownyou, Anna. So you better get real comfortable with that prospect real quick, because if you think you’re going anywhere, you’re not.”
Going somewhere…does he know?I stared into his eyes, searching for the answer.
“Look out, boys. What the fuck do we have here? Pretty boy has a brand-new toy.” The low murmur dripped with unspoken promises of violence.
Finley stiffened, and the twitch at the corner of his lip wasn’t meant for me…not this time.He moved back slightly, unfurling his fingers from around my throat. But there was no ache he left behind, no pain, just barely restrained violence.
“But she still has her clothes on, Fin,” the growl came once more. “And I don’t see any wads of cash near her snatch.”
Finley pushed off the wall, leaving me to turn.
Movement came toward us, slow, careful. I met the piercing eyes of the stranger, then glanced at the towering wall of muscle behind him. They were two of the biggest guys I’d ever seen, both wearing long coats, even on the goddamn island.
“Nope.” The asshole eye-fucked me from head to toe and licked his lips. “No money and all her clothes still on. Don’t tell me you’re losing your touch.”
“Fuck you, Lazarus.”
Finley stepped in front of me, blocking my view. But still, I caught enough of the cruelty shining brightly in the asshole’s gaze.
“Step aside, Finley,” the bastard who obviously was the Stidda Prince commanded. “Let me see who’s got this Ice Prince all worked up.”
But Finley never budged, he just held his ground and I finally understood what he was doing. He wasn’t standing in my view…he was standing in his.
“Come out from there, little one. Don’t be shy, I won’t hurt you.” Lazarus took a step closer, his tone making a lie of his words. “Not unless you want me to. It’s always the shy ones who want it fucking hard, isn’t it, Fin? Always the pretty little unmarked ones who scream the loudest. Move aside, Fin…let me break her in for you.”
Finley dropped his hand to his waist. His shadows moved instantly, drawing their weapons, and Lazarus’s men did the same. In the space of a heartbeat, the hallway was filled with guns and the electricity of a tempest.
“Whoa…”Lazarus lifted his hand.
From around the wall of muscle in front of me, I caught the Stidda Prince's smile. Piercing blue eyes glittered as he held Finley’s gaze. “This one's got you all riled up, hasn’t she? Or is it just you, buddy? Just you with your moody fucking stare. What the hell are you doing here, anyway, Salvatore? Didn’t think this was your style.”
“Walk, Rossi,” Finley warned with a snarl. “And keep on fucking walking.”
My heart was hammering, driving against my ribs as Kat took a step out from the doorway, drawing Lazarus’ gaze. He stilled, a scowl moving in for a second before it was swallowed by that cocky smirk. “And who might you be, sweetheart?”
“Too expensive for you,” Kat answered flatly.
