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"It's true!" I stammered. "I haven't seen him."
But that didn't mean he hadn't seen me. I knew he was still in town. Stalking me. Watching me.
I saw my scared, pale face reflected in Sasuke's dark eyes.
He stood close, towering over me, his hands tight on my trembling shoulders.
"Look, I don't know anything about Harris," I insisted, wishing I could shrink back further into the chair. "I swear," I pleaded, my voice cracking.
Sasuke's eyes narrowed into slits as he studied me, trying to determine whether I was lying or not. "This isn't a game," he spat, his voice dangerously low. "People's lives are at stake. Including yours."
He released me from his grasp with a jerk and moved back a few steps, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he said, "but I will if you betray me. Got it?"
"I understand," I managed to whisper.
"Then, tell me what you know about Harris Cheng."
Chapter seven
Sasuke
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This girl was prettycute when she was mad.
My eyes wandered over her chest, where the ropes made a red x between her breasts. Tying her up had made me horny as hell and the feeling resurged every time I saw the bruises I left behind.
"Then, tell me what you know about Harris Cheng," I said.
Julia hesitated, chewing at her bottom lip.
"You're not in the position to lie to me," I said. "In case you need a reminder of who's in charge." I casually adjusted my stance, making sure she got a glimpse of the gun.
I normally worked in quieter ways, like a swift slash to the throat, but Americans might need something more obvious to keep them in line.
"Ok, fine," Julia sighed, gulping down the rest of the coffee. "Harris is my sister's ex. They were together for a few years, and everyone thought they were getting married until she died." She paused. "Is it considered an ex-boyfriend if death is what caused the breakup?" Her voice cracked with a nervous giggle.
"Get on with it," I said. She babbled way too much.
"Anyways," Julia said, playing with the paper cup in her hand. "I don't know what you want with him or why your information is wrong, but I haven't seen Harris since my sister's funeral last February."
She swallowed hard before continuing. "He changed after her death. He became different somehow."
I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. "What exactly do you mean by 'different'?" It sounded like another American euphemism for losing your shit.
She shrugged. "I remember seeing him at the hospital after the accident. He was distraught, blaming himself for everything. Hestarted drinking heavily—he was an alcoholic, you know. I think he wanted to numb the pain."
"And then what happened?" I prodded.
"Like I said, he showed up to the funeral and then disappeared," she said with a shrug. "But..."
"But what?" I urged, pushing off the wall and leaning over her chair again. I moved until our faces were almost touching, breathing in her scent.
I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to take her here and now, dominate her, and ruin her for every other man.
"Harris," she whispered, her eyes locking onto me. "He's nearby. He's always watching me. Almost every day since the funeral."
Anger surged through my body. "Always watching you?" I snarled, grabbing her shoulders. "Why does he watch you? What connection do you have with him?"
