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“Jealousy looks pretty on you, Riley. You should show your emotions more often,” he whispers before slowly pushing himself off the wall and backing away from me. When he slams the door to his room, putting a barrier between us, it makes me want to punch it out of frustration.
It takes a while for me to pull myself back together, but eventually, the heat in my veins simmers back down, and I retreat to my room. I’m mad at myself so much more than I am at him. Furious that I’ve allowed his actions to provoke such a reaction. How is it possible for a man to make you so angry and aroused at the same time?
But the thing that gets to me most is the fact that he’s right…
I’m fucking jealous.
Making Riley think I fucked that blonde bitch the other night may have got me the reaction I wanted, but now it seems she’s playing a game of her own.
“How long has it been?” I stop pacing the carpet in front of my office window and look toward Sylvia.
“Three days.” She stands on the other side of my desk, looking almost proud of her answer.
“Not a single thing in three days?” I check I’m hearing her right.
“Well, she does have access to water from her en-suite, so maybe she has drunk, but she hasn’t eaten a morsel.”
My fists tighten in aggravation. I know exactly what game the girl is playing, and I am not a man who tolerates games. Riley hasn’t left her room since the night I ensured she heard me fucking the ditsy little brains out of Cecilia’s skull.
“She’s testing me again.” I unintentionally air my thoughts out loud as I look out the window onto the lawns where she was wandering just a few days before. The mountain range behind my property is the perfect backdrop to admire her against, and it pisses me off that she’s denying me the view.
Is it not enough that I’ve treated her well since she’s been here? Ensured she has everything she needs and is comfortable? Does she not appreciate me for taking her away from the repulsive conditions that my brother kept her in?
Obviously not.
This is how the insolent little bitch has decided to repay me… by starving herself.
I should let her.
I could stop sending her food, supply her with nothing until she begs me to feed her, so she becomes so desperate that she’d eat the fucking food off the floor beside my feet.
“She’s challenging,” Sylvia agrees, the amused smile on her face confirming she admires the girl's disobedience.
“And you’ve tried everything?” I check.
“I’ve sent more food to her room in the past few days than I have fed any of your men this month,” she assures me. “She didn’t even buckle at the cake selection I made for her.”
Running my hand through my hair, I release a frustrated breath. Riley is taking up too much of my energy. I’ve wasted far too many hours of my time thinking about her since I brought her here, and just when I think I’ve taken some of the control back, she pulls a stunt like this.
It’s time to put an end to her nonsense.
“Take up her dinner at the usual time, leave her alone with her meal, and do not disturb her again until morning,” I instruct, turning my back on Sylvia and hoping that she takes it as a hint to leave.
I’ve been trying to get the feelings I have toward the girl in check for nearly three weeks now. There’s just something about Riley that’s special. Her spirit seems almost unbreakable, which makes it even more of a prize to me. As much as that spirit irritates me, I’m starting to admire it too. The more I think about it, the more I’m becoming tempted to let her keep it.
Sylvia leaves, closing the door behind her, as I open the top drawer of my desk to take out Riley’s necklace and the brown envelope that was delivered to me this morning.
I swallowed my pride last week and called Adriano to ask him for Riley’s details. Since then, I’ve had my own man, Gioele, seek more information.
Riley Hayes is nineteen years old and from Utah. Her father is unknown, mother deceased. She and her brother, Liam, have been under child protection since she was fourteen. Technically, they are both classed as missing people. Runaways, according to the files the police have in their system.
I let the gold chain slip through my fingers and rub my thumb over the delicate gold cross in my palm. This has become a new ritual for me over the past few weeks. Avoiding her hasn’t been easy, and it’s pathetic that holding on to this cheap trinket makes me feel close to her. The fact I even have the need to feel close to her is disturbing in itself.
Riley Hayes is just a girl, a poor, wretched orphan who my brother's men snatched off the streets. But she’s rooted in my head, crawling under my skin, and she seems to have full control over my fucking cock.
Riley Hayes is a curse.
I yearn for her in a way I shouldn’t. Even if I took her virginity and broke that spirit of hers, I fear it wouldn’t be enough. Her latest test of my patience is only proof that she knows of my new weakness. She knows I care for her well-being, and she’s prepared to use that against me. I need to turn the tables.
