Kingpin's Property

I scratched behind his ears. “When I get out of here, I’m taking you with me,” I swore. “I won’t leave you here with him.”

The cat’s glowing green eyes shifted to something on the floor, and I noted his pupils dilating with predatory excitement just before he pounced on the length of twine that had been tied around the small black box.

“No!” Panic turned my admonition into a sharp cry.

Startled by my outburst, Bandit darted away, taking the twine with him.

“Shit, shit, shit.” A string of breathy curses dropped from my lips, my lungs squeezing tighter with every terror-inducing moment that passed.

I had to put the box back exactly as I’d found it, or Stefano would know what I’d discovered. I couldn’t afford for him to return and find his cat toying with the evidence that I’d uncovered his secret.

My fist closed around the ruined trinket, and I raced out of the closet, searching for the mischievous creature. My heart hammered against my ribcage, acute fear flooding my body with adrenaline.

I’d been so single-mindedly absorbed by my desperate search for Stefano’s weaknesses that I hadn’t paid attention to how much time was passing. I didn’t know when he might return, but the clock was ticking down to disaster if I didn’t manage to cover my tracks.

“Bandit!” In my mounting panic, I barked the cat’s name.

My erratic behavior and shouting had only driven him farther away from me, causing him to hide somewhere with his illicit prize.

I took a breath and tried to regulate my tone to something softer. “Come on out,” I cajoled shakily. “I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

There was no sign of the petite animal. My stomach churned, nausea rising.

I dropped to my hands and knees, frantically searching beneath each item of furniture where he might be cowering from me. The most obvious place seemed to be the bed—where he liked to cuddle with his deranged master. But he wasn’t anywhere to be found in the bedroom.

I worked my way into the lounge, checking around the leather furniture, even though it was so low to the ground that I doubted the cat could wedge himself under it.

“Bandit.” I choked on his name when his green eyes reflected back at me from deep beneath the couch. “Come on out,” I begged, blinking against the burn of tears.

“Are my pets playing a game without me?”

A soft, alarmed cry escaped my lips before I could swallow it down. Stefano had returned, and his amused drawl indicated that he was in a particularly good mood.

My fist tightened around the mysterious object I’d discovered, the precious metal burning into my flesh like a brand. I closed my eyes and willed my tears to subside before they could fall.

My survival imperative kicked in, focusing my mind enough that I formulated a rough plan. I had to evade Stefano for long enough to get into the closet and stuff his secret back in place behind the wood panel.

I pushed to my feet and allowed Stefano one brief glance at my stricken expression, using my nausea to my advantage. “I’m going to be sick,” I mumbled, darting toward the master bathroom.

“Kitten?” he called after me, his voice heavy with concern.

I closed the bathroom door behind me and turned the lock, praying that his bizarre obsession with me would feed his concern for long enough to grant me privacy.

Immediately, I sprinted through the closet and bedroom, slamming the door in his face and locking it just in time to keep him out.

He pounded on the barrier I’d secured between us, and I raced back into the closet, desperate to hide all evidence of my transgression.

“Carmen.” He barked my name. “Open the door.”

“I don’t feel good.” I managed to choke out the excuse, praying that my obvious distress would be enough to hold him at bay.

A deafening bang ripped a shriek from my chest, and I turned to find my captor storming through the broken bedroom door.

For a heartbeat, his face was a mask of worry. Then, he noted where I huddled on my knees, one hand clutching the black box and the other still fisted around the twisted trinket.

His lips pulled back on a feral snarl, and his black eyes burned into me, the deadly glare of an enraged demon.

He advanced on me, and I scrambled back, falling on my ass in my wild effort to get away.

“Don’t touch that!” he commanded on a guttural roar.

He was on me before I could draw in enough air to release a terrified scream. He grabbed my wrist in his big hand, squeezing hard enough to force my fingers to release the dark secret I’d discovered. He held out his other palm, catching the object before it could hit the carpet. His own fist closed around it, protecting it from my touch.