Sold: Dark Mafia Romance

“You could’ve picked any other girl in that club, yet you chose me,” I say as we both walk to the dining area. “And on that stage. Me again. Why?”

“I didn’t want those other girls,” he says like it’s obvious, almost like he’s bored with having to explain himself. “They were there to serve customers. You were there to serve me.”

My heart rate shoots up immediately. He has this way of speaking that makes me weak. Serve me… it’s like he’s bypassing my brain and speaking directly to my body. And my body wants to obey all his orders.

The devilish smirk on his face is both irresistible and slap-worthy. He opens the doors to the dining room for me and waits until I step inside. “Ladies first.”

“You weren’t so chivalrous earlier. What made you change?” I retort.

It’s petty, but I can’t help myself. This man stole my freedom away from me, and getting under his skin is the only way I can fight back.

He cocks his head, and his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “You.”

That one word is enough to make my heart go haywire.

Stop it, Harper! He’s the enemy.

He walks to the table and scoots a chair backward, glancing at me in a seductive way. “Sit.”

I gulp and think about my options, but I don’t think I have a choice in the matter. If I try to run, there’s nowhere to go, and he’ll force me to stop. If I do what he says, I might get closer to the answers I seek, but it also means getting closer to him. Can I take that risk, considering the effect he has on me?

A sigh escapes my mouth, and I sink into my seat, ignoring the shallow breaths and increasing beats my heart makes the closer I get to him. He waits until I’ve settled down to scoot the chair forward, just a little farther than comfortable, almost as if to remind me that I’m under his control.

He sits down right across from me. Of all the places he could choose to sit at this very long table, of course, he sits down on the closest chair.

And even though the arrogant look on his face is aggravating, I can’t look away, no matter how hard I try. With his eyes alone, he’s got me under his spell.

“You want to know why I picked you?” he asks.

I nod, desperate for more information, despite knowing the consequence is losing myself to this man.

“The way you hurt that man who tried to touch you at the club … I liked that,” he says. “You’re feisty.”

I frown, then let out an incredulous burst of laughter. “Wait, that’s it?”

He shrugs. “Sometimes a connection is as simple as that. I look, you see me looking, end of story.”

“It can’t be that simple,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

He leans over the table, tapping his fingers against each other. “You know what? You’re right, kitten. It’s not that simple. It wasn’t just that I liked when you hurt that stupid drunk bastard in that repulsive club. It was all the things it made me think of.”

He seizes my wrist and pulls me in toward him. His face fills my vision. Cruelly handsome, cold, and distant, like staring into the eyes of a devil statue come to life. A man sent to punish and torture me with all the sensations my body is capable of feeling.

“It made me think of moments like this. I wanted to pin you here and take away your defenses one, by one, by one.” Each time he counts, he strokes the underside of my forearm softly and sensuously. A part of me wants to blush. The other part wants to scream.

“And I wanted to watch you squirm as you realized how helpless you truly were. Until it came down to it and you realized you had only one defense left.” He grins as he slowly releases my wrist. “Go on then, kitten. Ask me what your last defense will be.”

My throat is dry as a desert. I lick my lips, swallow, and croak, “What is it?”

His grin intensifies, and his eyes flash. “That pretty little mouth. I want you to beg me. Beg for your life. Beg for your release.”

We sit there in the tensest silence of my life for an excruciatingly long moment. He doesn’t blink or look away. It feels like we’re in a tug-of-war for control. And I’m losing—badly.

But then I remember I’m not out of weapons yet. I still have my body and my wits. I shift in my seat and cross my legs to expose one long slice of thigh through the slit. His eyes immediately lower toward the naked skin.

Two can play this game.

I only have a tiny little opening here. I have to push back and let him know I’m not going to roll over at his command.