“I told you,” he said, his voice like steel, “I’m trying to avoid your death. I had to show him how far I was willing to go to keep you in line. He would have had you killed otherwise, and I . . . don’t want that.”

He admitted it like it was embarrassing, and the idea that not wanting me to die was shameful left me reeling. My eyes had to be impossibly wide as I stared at him.

Luka frowned. He moved, forcing me to backpedal until I hit the bed and fell to sit. His hands braced on my shoulders, steadying me or possibly himself. “Fuck, let’s just do this. We’re going to have an honest conversation.”

He straightened and pulled his shoulders back, making him look confident and comfortable, although I was certain he wasn’t. He began to pace a tight, controlled circuit as if even his unease was metered out carefully.

“Are we?” I said, my voice choked with rage. “What language was that?”

“Serbian.”

“Explain what you meant when you said you ‘tried that with me, but all it did was make me sick.’”

He halted his pacing. “When you started to freak out about the sex, I roofied the beer I brought you.” His dark gaze swung to me. There wasn’t an apology in his eyes, and the chill made me shiver. Part of me had already figured it out. Three shots and half a beer didn’t account for the massive blackout I’d experienced.

“I’d hoped,” he returned to his pacing, “you’d forget last night. I’d seduce you in the morning and you’d think it was your first time.”

I sucked down a deep breath. It explained why he’d been different when I’d woken up. He’d been trying to be sweet, disguising the monster who waited beneath.

His hand coursed through his hair and unsettled it. “It was pretty obvious you remembered, though.” He exhaled loudly, resigned. “If you decided to go to the police and say I forced you, they’d be crawling all over the house in a heartbeat. The FBI has been up our ass ever since my cousin’s trial, and this is the excuse they’re looking for to exploit. They tried to get a warrant after Vasilije got busted with weed, but he’d been living at the frat.”

His cousin’s trial? The FBI?

I closed my eyes as I mentally kicked myself. There was another reason why the Markovic name had a familiar ring to it. It was why Luka hadn’t been keen on sharing his last name. This house said Luka’s family was dirty rich. I just hadn’t realized how much of the emphasis was on the dirty.

I couldn’t recall all the details. It’d been the spring of my hectic sophomore year, I thought, when I’d heard about it. A federal judge presiding over a high profile case had been assassinated, which was noteworthy enough, but the defendant in the case had the last name of Markovic. The local news had sensationalized it because he’d been related to the popular chain of car dealerships in the Chicago area.

Luka’s cousin.

The Markovics were mob.

“I can’t make you forget,” Luka said. He squared his shoulders to me and set his hands on his hips. “But this arrangement will work.”

“What are you talking about?” I bit out through clenched teeth.

His expression was intense and serious. “I said I control everything, including your choices, but that’s not true until you make this final one.” His feet carried him to me, and he cupped my face in his hands. “You live under my rules. You might even learn to like them.” His long fingers caressed my face. My skin wanted to crawl away, yet also enjoyed the sensation. How could any part of me like this? Was there a darkness inside me that responded to his darkness, like our connection was magnetic?

“Or you can fight.” His eyes were hard. “That doesn’t end well, and I don’t want that.”

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because,” he said, annoyed, although it seemed self-directed. “Because I fucking like you, all right? I have for a while.” The muscles in his fingers tensed, clamping on my jaw. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m not.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re perfect for me.” He slammed his lips over mine in a harsh kiss. “So choose.”

My choice was to live under Luka’s thumb, or not at all? What kind of choice was that? And I couldn’t run, could I? Luka’s father had threatened my family. He’d said he’d find me, and even if he didn’t, I’d have to throw my whole life away. Everything I’d worked for would be gone.

Luka’s whisper wasn’t a request. It was spoken softly, but filled with so much command, it rang loud in my ears. “Pick me.”

“Over death?” I closed my eyes in a long blink, and a rogue tear slipped out. I moved quickly to brush it off, horrified, but he beat me to it. His thumb swept over my cheekbone, smearing it away. He’d changed the course of my entire life with one thoughtless act. Did he realize? “You took everything from me last night.”

Tags: Nikki Sloane Sordid Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net