He Hates Me Not (Hate & Love Duet 2)

I release a breath and tiptoe outside. The hallway appears elegant and clean. I almost don’t recognize it from the first time Jasper brought me here. There’s new flowery wallpaper and a few landscape paintings hanging on the walls.

Since I have no shoes in this damn place, I settled on the shower flip-flops and a black dress. It’s better than nothing.

My hair is pulled into a ponytail and I’m ready to go back to Chicago, to my job, my dad, my cats, and my damn life.

I descend the stairs, astonished by more of the renovation that’s been put into place. If it were up to me, I’d bring in more furniture and —

I shake my head, killing that thought. It’s not up to me and I don’t care what Jasper does with his house. This isn’t my home.

It is not.

The sound of humming in Italian comes from the far right. I cease breathing as my back glues to the wall. If Salli finds me and tells Jasper, I’m done for.

Or I can hit her. I don’t care what she thinks because I’m getting out of here whether she and her master want me to or not.

I tiptoe around the table near the stairs, keeping my attention on where the humming is coming from, which I assume is the kitchen.

My leg hits the table and I wince, then slap a hand over my mouth to hide the sound.

Salli says something in Italian.

Damn it. Damn it.

I don’t wait for her to find me and run toward the entrance. The moment I’m about to embrace my freedom, a tall man blocks the only way out.

My feet come to a screeching halt as I stare up at him.

He’s wearing a pressed suit that stretches against his broad shoulders, making him appear like a model. His hair is styled and his cuffs are neat and elegant.

Everything about him is. Elegant, I mean.

Everything except for his eyes. They’re green, but they have some sort of anomaly with gray rings surrounding them. They don’t look like an anomaly, though.

They’re beautiful in a savage kind of way.

I caught a glimpse of him from the window before. He’s one of Jasper’s men or partners or whatever, which means he’s my enemy.

He tilts his head to the side, watching me with manic interest as if I’ve killed him in cold blood in a previous life. “Why, hello there, Costa.”

I didn’t expect the smooth English. There’s a hint of Italian there, but it’s not the heavily accented English like the one Salli speaks when I’m around.

Grabbing the burnt razor, I point it at him. I’m getting out of here and no one will stop me.

He laughs, the sound long and booming in the entrance. “Do you really think you can hurt me with that?”

“Get out of my way.” I stand my ground.

He steps closer, but I don’t step back.

“Or what, Georgina? You’ll hurt me with that?”

“Don’t think I won’t. Because I fucking will.”

He’s smiling, but he doesn’t seem amused. If anything, he appears as if he summoned his demons. “Your father used guns and it didn’t kill me, do you think that toy will?”

“You’re lying. You and Jasper are only saying that so I’ll turn against my father.” There’s no way in hell the father who doted on me as a child is the monster they’re describing him to be.

“I have no interest in you turning against your father. If anything, I want you to go back to him so Jasper finally sees that he should fucking kill you.”

He advances into me and I wiggle the razor in his face. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Why don’t you stop me?”

“Don’t come any closer or —”

My words are cut off when he grabs me by the arm and twists, causing the razor to fall to the ground. I cry out at his brutal clutch; he’s going to break my arm.

“Ow, let me go.” I grind out through clenched teeth.

“What have you done to him?” He stares down at me with a cold expression and it scares the shit out of me more than his hold. “Why doesn’t he kill you already?”

I contemplate kicking or biting him, but the way he’s threatening to break my arm stops me. I have no doubt that he’ll do it; that he’ll actually snap my bones.

This man is dangerous, just like Jasper. The only difference is that Jasper doesn’t intend to hurt me, at least not in this way.

This man looks like he’s about to rip my heart out and feast on it raw.

Jasper. Where are you?

“Your family killed his, do you know why?” he asks in a low tone that draws goosebumps over my skin. “Because his father killed your mother.”

My lips part. Jasper’s father killed Mom? Why would he do that?

“No,” I gulp. “You’re lying.”

“Ignore the truth all you want, it doesn’t mean it’ll go away.”