The Bandit (The Stolen Duet 1)

Z looked from me to her and said, “Now can we eat dinner?”

“Fuck you.”

Z’s smile was wide, but his eyes had darkened as he leaned forward to rest his forearms on the table and trap Mian with his gaze. “Maybe you will.”

She sneered at him. “God, you’re delusional if you think I’ll touch you.”

“That’s enough,” I ordered before he could continue their game. Z wouldn’t hesitate to scare her for his own amusement, and for some reason, that bothered me even though I needed her to be scared and helpless.

“Sure thing, boss.” He nodded and dove into his food. Mian just stared back at me.

“Eat.”

“I said I wasn’t hungry.”

“And I said to eat.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Eat before I have Lucasshovethe food down your throat.”

“It would be good practice, sweetheart.” Even though I told them they wouldn’t touch her, it didn’t stop them from taunting her with the promise of sex. She shot Lucas a murderous glare and then picked up her fork. There was a moment of hesitation, and I was pretty sure we were all holding our breath to see what she would do with it. When she smirked and stabbed her fork in her salad, I knew she played us. She tested us to see if she could evoke the same fear as we forced from her.

She had no fucking idea.

Z had already completely wiped his plate and dug in the dishes placed in the middle for seconds when I finally relaxed enough to eat. I had taken no more than a bite of the chicken when a cry rang out.

“Oh, my God.” She stood up, her chair scraping the floors, and toppling in her haste. “Where is he?” she growled but didn’t wait around for an answer. She took off in the direction of his cries. I set down my fork and nodded to Z since he was the quickest, and he gave chase.

I could hear her screaming her son’s name, and then, suddenly, her screams stopped. Mian was sharp-tongued and spoiled, but I never expected her to have any true fight in her. When she was brought back, he pushed her in my direction but stayed close behind her.

“Do you hear your son crying for you?” I asked unnecessarily as I rose to my feet. I wanted to torture her in the only way that would allow me without touching her. I could barely restrain myself being in the same room with her.

I expected tears. I expected begging. She exploded. “All of this… for a fucking watch?” Her scream echoed around us while her son’s cries grew louder in the distance. “I knew you were an asshole, but I never took you for a materialistic asshole.” She shook her head in disgust. “It will take some time, but I’ll pay you back somehow. I swear.”

I would have snorted at the fact that she thought I was doing this to be an asshole. My father’s murder had made me much worse, and she was about to find out how much.

“Your story checked out. The unlucky bastard who bought my father’s watch was very adamant it was his only business with you. Unfortunately, you and I both know it’s not a fucking watch I’m after.”

“Then what you’re after has nothing to do with me because… I… don’t… have it!”

I stalked her and then grabbed her shoulder and forced her over the table before pulling my gun and pressing it against her skull. She wiggled her tight little ass against my dick, and I knew she felt what she had done to me when she gasped. “No more lies. Where’s the fucking book?”

Her back stiffened. It wasn’t the reaction of someone who didn’t know of my family’s legacy and prosperity of our fortune. But then she blurted, “Oh, God. That’s evenworse. You’re after abook?”

“You’re a terrible fucking liar, Mian.” I slid the hammer back and smiled when she trembled at the sound of the click. “What are you willing to do to have your son back?”

She turned her head just enough for me to see the fire in her eyes. “Kill you. That’s what I’m willing to do.”Damn, that just made me harder.“I don’t have this book you’re looking for so you should just kill me now becauseIwon’t hesitate.” She pressed her head back against the gun, and I was tempted—so fucking tempted—to just blow her brains out and be done with it.

“I would never make dying easy for you,” I assured. My free hand slid to my mother’s pearls around her neck. I tugged the necklace until it bit into her skin just enough to scare her. “You should know better than that.”

There was a large bead of sweat that rolled from the top of her spine to the middle. Leaning forward, I licked up the droplet and felt her full-body shiver. She tasted salty and sweet.