As soon as Mateo’s gaze focused on me, the cruel expression faded. Even though his features softened, my fear lingered. The man holding me wasn’t the sexy bad boy I’d fantasized about for years. He was just as dangerous as Adrián.
He reached out and touched his fingertips to my furrowed brow, and I flinched.
His mouth pressed to a tight slash, and his muscles bulged and flexed around me as he slowly withdrew his hand.
“It’s over,” he announced coolly. “Valentina is safe with Adrián. You can talk to your father now.”
Before I could begin to formulate a response, he retrieved my rose gold phone from where it rested on the nightstand. I gabbed at it like the familiar object was my lifeline, but he snatched it back, holding it out of my reach with a warning frown.
“What’s your passcode?” he asked.
“I’m not telling you.” My defiance came out more breathlessly than I would have liked. I swallowed and tried again. “Give me my phone.”
“I don’t think so, florecita. You’re in my house, and you’ll play by my rules.” His voice dropped deeper with the ring of command, but there was no menace in his tone. Nothing he’d said to me so far had been issued as a threat, but his unyielding authority was clear.
I wasn’t truly scared of him—not like I probably should be—but I was undeniably intimidated.
“Your passcode,” he prompted.
“I don’t want to tell you,” I protested weakly. “That’s private.”
“Not from me,” he countered. “You don’t have automatic phone privileges anymore. You’ll have to earn them.”
“What?” I should have sounded more indignant, but I couldn’t seem to eliminate that breathless quality to my query.
“You want to go back to your classes? You want to return to your normal routine? I’ll allow it, but only after you’ve proven that I can trust you to behave. I have to know that you will obey me unquestioningly.”
“Obey you?” This time, I did sound indignant.
He simply nodded, ignoring my outburst. “I can’t have you running back to Daddy at the first opportunity. Until you convince me that you’ll be my good girl, you’re not leaving this house.” His words turned rougher, his eyes taking on that strange, almost drugged appearance again. His countenance made a light tremor race through my body, but the reaction wasn’t entirely one of fear.
“And you don’t get your phone privileges back until you promise not to try to call anyone for help. I will know if your promise is insincere. You don’t get to lie to me, Sofia. If you try, there will be consequences.”
My breaths turned shallower with each calmly-spoken sentence that left his lips.
“Consequences?” I couldn’t seem to manage more than stilted questions; just a word or two leaving me on a little puff of air.
A single black brow lifted, and the dark promise hung between us. He didn’t give me any details, and that set me even more off-balance. If I didn’t know what he might have in store for me, I couldn’t mentally prepare for it. That made the idea of challenging him all the more unnerving.
“Your passcode,” he drawled. It wasn’t a question; it was an edict.
The four digits slipped from me on a meek whisper.
One corner of his lips tilted in a lopsided, arrogant smile. His eyes remained locked on mine for the space of several heartbeats.
“Good girl.” The two words were issued slowly, as though he was savoring them on his tongue. His deep, rumbling voice made them settle over me and weigh on me like a heavy blanket.
He’d told me that I would have to learn to behave as his good girl. That I would learn to obey him. The words of praise were both positive reinforcement for my acquiescence and a statement of his first, small victory. As though he was taming me, training me like he would a new pet.
I didn’t like it.
I shouldn’t like it.
But something stirred low in my belly, warming my insides.
Before I could sort through the confusing sensations, he found my father’s number in my contact list and connected the call, ensuring it was on speaker. It seemed I wouldn’t be allowed a private conversation.
The phone barely finished its first ring before my father’s voice rasped across the line. “Sofia?”
“Daddy!” His name hitched in my throat.
“Where are you?” he asked, frantic. “What has he done to you, princesa? If that animal touched you—”
“I haven’t,” Mateo said coldly, letting my father know he was listening to every word. “Much,” he added with menace.
I stared up at him with alarm. He’d never used that tone with me, and I felt a jolt of true fear for the first time.
He placed the phone in my hand and rubbed his thumb over my chilled skin. He held one finger up to his lips, warning me not to contradict him. A tiny bit of my fear ebbed. I didn’t like that he was scaring my father, but he was silently communicating that the menace wasn’t directed at me.