My sharp breaths increase until I’m on the verge of hyperventilating, but I do my best to mask it, not wanting them to know just how fucking scared I really am. Though my tear-stained face and the way I cower in the corner is bound to give me away.
As the door fully opens, the shadow gains more shape and I quickly recognize one of the brothers, though his face is masked in heavy darkness and it’s impossible to tell which one he is. That is until he steps deeper into the room and I can make out the distinctive tattoos winding up his neck.
Levi DeAngelis. The youngest brother and questionably the most impulsive. At least, that’s what the news has always alluded to. I guess it’s all that egotistical, needing to prove something to his older brothers bullshit. Or maybe he just got dropped on his head a few too many times as a baby. Either way, he’s not somebody that I want standing this close to me, but I guess none of the brothers are a great option.
His dark eyes bore into mine, and as he takes another step toward me, I shrink further back into the brick wall until I feel blood trailing down my back. His eyes only seem to get darker as I drop my gaze down his body, searching for some kind of clue about how this is going to go down.
Is he just going to snap my neck with his bare hands or is there a gun hidden in his pants? Maybe he’s a dagger kind of guy. Shit, that’s too easy for him. After all, the DeAngelis brothers have a reputation to uphold. I bet I’ll be slaughtered in the most spectacular fashion, but nobody will ever know about it. I’ll never get avenged. I’ll never see justice. The brothers will just continue getting away with this because no one will fucking miss me.
He’s fucking stunning though, just like his two big brothers, and that makes him even more dangerous than any man has the right to be. His hair is black as night and cropped short, while his perfectly symmetrical face dares me to try and find a flaw.
I can’t help but notice that he’s wearing a three-piece suit and damn, he wears it well, but that’s the least of my problems. He’s probably planning some fancy date with a poor unsuspecting girl and waiting for his opportunity to strike. I’m the pathetic pre-game warm-up.
Levi gets nice and close, so fucking close that I smell the small touch of cologne that’s been sprayed by his neck, mixed with the sweet, natural manly smell that’s all him. I can feel the warmth coming from his tanned skin and I swallow hard, but he just keeps getting closer until his chest is pressed right up against mine.
He towers over me. He must be at least 6’3 and built like a fucking bull. He’s easily three times the size of me. A man like this could snap my bones with just a flick of his wrist.
I have no doubt that he can feel my rapid pulse, hell, my heart is beating so damn loud that he can probably hear its terrified thumping too. He leans into me and I catch my breath, silently willing myself to think of a sweeter time in my life and not the horrendous things that he’s about to do to me.
Levi drops his head and his nose grazes along my skin, tormenting me with his silence. “What do you want?” I ask, clenching my jaw and desperately trying to block him out, but he’s already inside my head without even saying a single word.
The tip of his nose trails up from the bottom of my jaw right to my temple which is where it comes to a stop. He breathes me in and I close my eyes, trying to calm my terrified tremors.
A low, animalistic growl sounds in the back of his throat, and I hold back tears, preparing myself for death. But when nothing happens, I open my eyes again and swallow hard before slowly tilting my chin to meet his dark, horrifying gaze.
Letting out a shaky breath, I try to find what little strength I possess. “What. Do. You. Want?” I demand, not ready to stand here all night playing his twisted games.
The corners of his mouth flinch with the makings of a wicked grin but he holds it back as something presses against my stomach. My gaze drops to his hand to find a black silk gown scrunched up between his fingers.
His deep, growly voice floods the cell and my gaze snaps right back up to his. “Put it on.”
My brows furrow as I instinctively take the gown from him, my knees shaking as I feel the sound of his deep tone vibrating right through my hollow chest. Realizing that he still has plans for me tonight, I raise my chin and narrow my gaze. “Why?” I snap, not about to make this easy for him as my eyes flicker toward the open cell door. He's left me the perfect opportunity to escape, assuming I can get past him.
“Because I said so,” he growls, not appreciating my reluctance. I'm sure a man like him doesn’t hear the word no unless it's his victim's last plea for mercy. “You’re our guest and you will join us for dinner.”
My brow arches. “Guest?” I laugh. “More like a fucking prisoner. Tell me, how many other ‘guests’ are you keeping down here?”
Levi doesn’t respond, just keeps staring at me with that dead gaze until my patience gets the best of me. “You’re fucking kidding me,” I scoff, immediately regretting my tone as his eyes flash with anger. I shove my hand against his solid stomach and force him back a step. “You want to dress me up in some bullshit gown that probably belongs to some dead woman, parade me around for your psychotic brothers, and treat me to dinner? You really are fucked in the head.”
Levi's head tilts to the side, the same way his brother’s had moved right before he knocked me out cold. “The gown belonged to my mother,” he tells me in a flat, emotionless tone. “And you’re right. She is fucking dead. Now put the gown on before I do it myself, and trust me when I tell you, you won’t like it.”
My jaw clenches and I refuse to tear my gaze away from his, but even if I wanted to, it’s not possible. He holds me hostage with his stare alone, but now that stare seems so much more than just anger.
“Now,” he orders, his tone dropping even lower, probably pissed that my question brought up the memory of his dead mother, but seriously, how was I supposed to know?
“You want to dress me up like a fucking Barbie doll in your dead mother’s clothes? You don’t see how messed-up that is?”
His jaw clenches and the thick muscles of his neck flinch, making his winding tattoos almost seem real. His fingers ball into fists at his side and my gaze settles onto them, knowing that with just one punch, I could be dead.
I let out a shaky breath and slowly drag my gaze back up his wide body to meet his stare, knowing that I’ve already pushed him too far, but I can’t figure out what game we’re playing. Do I sit quietly and do what I’m asked in hopes of delaying the inevitable, or do I go all out, balls to the wall and make their time with me just as hellish as my time with them?
My fingers scrunch into the soft silk and I struggle to take a deep breath, wanting to get down to business. “Why me?” I ask in a small voice, already exhausted by his bullshit.
His gaze hardens and I realize all too quickly that he’s not about to start explaining anything. I’m going to be left in the dark for as long as the boys deem necessary.
Levi doesn’t budge, just remains before me with his intimidating size, more than ready to take action if I don’t hurry up and do what he’s asking. So with no other choice, I release the fabric between my fingers and pull it over my head, letting it slide into place, momentarily hating those few short moments that the silk masks my sight.