“Boss?” Emilio asks, clearly unsure of what to make of my silence.
I nod and fold my arms in front of me, stretching to my full six-foot-four height and flexing a bit to show her I'm in charge. I'm in control. I won't be ruled by my wayward emotions or the sudden, inexplicable attraction to her.
The angel has to crane her neck back to take in all of me, and then she juts her chin out in defiance. Despite her trembling body and unshed tears, she's letting me know she won't go down without a fight. Fuck if that doesn't make my dick twitch in my pants.
“Do you know where you are, little girl?” I ask, noticing for the first time how young she is. Damn near half my age. It makes me want to tuck her into bed and tell her this was all a nightmare she’ll forget when she wakes up. However, I keep my face harsh and demanding while my eyes narrow at her.
She gulps, never taking her eyes off mine. “I had a bag over my head, so...no, I don’t know where I am,” she all but whispers.
I flatten my lips into a straight line to keep from cracking a grin at her confused but honest answer. When was the last time I fought the urge to smile? Never, if I had to guess.
“I meant do you know who you are dealing with? Who you’ve pissed off?”
The woman slowly shakes her head no, keeping her mesmerizing gaze locked on mine. “I…I’m sorry,” she says on a shaky breath.
“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” Again, she shakes her head no. “You’ve heard our side of the story, now tell me yours. Then I’ll decide your fate.”
Her little gasp travels through me, catching on every single nerve ending along the way and lighting my body up like a fucking Christmas tree. What other sounds does she make? What do her eyes look like when she’s not scared for her life? What would her curves feel like pressed up against the hard planes of my body?
These are the questions I’ll never get the answers to, the questions I don’t deserve the answers to.
“I was just taking photos for my bookstagram account,” she manages to say, her voice a little stronger now. Chains coughs to cover up a laugh, and I glare at him. He sobers up real quick.
“Explain.”
"B-bookstagram is just Instagram, except your account is d-dedicated to all things books and reading," the woman stutters out. She takes a deep breath as if getting the words out took every ounce of energy to speak. However, she presses through her fear and continues telling her side of things. "I just f-finished a series and wanted t-to g-get p-pictures…" She hiccups and swallows down her tears as understanding dawns on her. “I have no idea why I’m here, b-but I promise I only took photos of my books.”
I hate the panic that takes over her features, but my stance remains strong, my eyes unforgiving, my lips set in a frown. Now that she knows why she’s here, even if she doesn’t know who she’s here with or even where she is, the words come tumbling out of her mouth almost too quickly for me to catch them.
“It’s just that the shipyard was the p-perfect backdrop for my photos. I knew it was there because sometimes I would sneak off and read on the docks where no one would find me. I had no idea anyone else even knew where it was. I didn’t s-see anything else. I swear.” She gasps for air after her rambling explanation.
“Then why did you run?” Emilio asks. I growl at him, letting him know I’m the one who asks the questions. He backs down and dips his head in deference.
The striking blue eyes of my captive flit over to Emilio. I don’t understand my irrational anger at the fact that her attention is anywhere but on me. I only calm down when her gaze rests on mine once again.
It pleases me greatly that she doesn’t answer Emilio’s question, but instead, waits for me to continue my interrogation.
Good girl.
Motherfucking Christ. Where the hell did that come from? Why do I want her to be my good girl? My good, filthy, innocent, plaything. Mine.
“Well?” I grit out, pushing every confusing, unwelcomed thought aside. The sooner I deal with her, the sooner I can begin to readjust my entire world. This strange, ethereal woman inadvertently tilted everything on its axis, but once she’s gone, I’m sure things will go back to normal.
She gulps, and my eyes flicker to the movement in her throat. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the little silver heart necklace resting on her delicate skin. I wonder what she looks like wearing only that necklace.
“I heard raised voices, but I didn’t make out anything in particular. I just wanted to get out of there. I don’t want trouble. I-I’m just a librarian. I keep to myself. I won’t tell anyone I was even here...wherever here is.”
A librarian? Fuck, she’s cute.
Cute? Hell. I need to get her away from me before I think more errant thoughts about the curvy bookworm.
“Give me her phone,” I address my men, not giving a fuck who does what, as long as someone hands me the device. “Password?” I ask her once Thomas sets the phone in my open palm.
“One, seven, zero, four, six, zero,” she whispers.
I navigate to her photos folder and scroll through the camera roll. Sure enough, there are at least a dozen photos of books stacked on top of an old junker car. I find myself zooming in on the photos, drawn to the reading material that captured this woman's interest. I fight another smile when I see the cover of one of the books with a shirtless man and a dragon in the background. What kind of books are these? Certainly none that I've ever come across.
I glance up at her and notice her shirt for the first time. “Just One More Chapter”, it reads. There’s no denying this girl loves reading. “And where are the books now?”
I see a flash of sadness and then a spark of irritation as she glances at Thomas. “He threw them away,” she spits out. I barely suppress a chuckle at her indignant tone. Gone is the timid girl who could barely plead her case, and in her place is a woman with a fiery passion.
I examine the photos again in an attempt to distract myself from the enchanting woman in front of me. True to her word, there isn’t any evidence of my men or Ricci and his men in these photos. No videos, no audio recordings, and one look at her Instagram profile shows me she hasn’t posted the pictures anywhere, either.
Just to be safe, I delete all of her photos, making sure none of them are saved on the cloud. Then I drop the phone and smash it under my foot. She gasps and flinches but doesn’t object. I can’t help but notice it brings me no pleasure to destroy her things. Unlike when I threw my phone against the wall earlier, I get no satisfaction from the crunching of plastic and glass.
“There. She’s no longer a threat,” I determine.
My men balk at me, but I stare them down. Thomas and Emilio avert their gaze, but Chains can’t contain his protest. “Boss, surely you’re not going to just let her go, right?”
“Are you questioning me?” I growl.
“No, but...bringing her to you was the only thing that stopped Stefano from killing her on the spot. We know how you don’t want any unnecessary messes, so we brought her to you first.”
A little whimper escapes from the siren, the noise chipping away at my resolve to send her away. Not only because her life could be in danger, but because I want to make sure she has no reason to fear anything or anyone ever again.