Gianni
“Did I mumble, Caterina? Exactly who do you think I am? Do you think this is a game? That I sit here behind a desk all day and shuffle papers and send emails and run the business you read about in financial magazines?”
“I know who you are.”
‘Then why do you look so surprised? And why would you ask such a silly question?” When her brows lift, I remind her. “You asked if I actually do things like that and assumed I don’t. What if I do?”
When I propel myself from the chair, she backs away, bumping against the desk, sliding along it, trying to get away from me. That’s exactly what I need, fear, even if it’s the last thing I want to see on her delicate face.
“Where are you going?” My hand shoots out, grasping her throat, holding her in place against the corner of the desk. I loom over her, bending her back as she gasps for air. My fingers flex against her slim throat. It wouldn’t take much effort to end her. Now that she knows the truth, she’s a liability. Killing her isn’t an option. But I can scare her.
I have to do this, even if my heart says otherwise. Here I am, with hundreds of thousands of dollars owed to me and heads I need to crack open to get it, and I sat here caring more about her overhearing my business details. She’s a distraction. That’s all.
But she’s not; she’s more.My subconscious reminds me I care about her, her safety, and what she thinks of me. Instead of the fact she could expose the truth to Tatiana. It’s something I hadn’t thought about before. I grit my teeth, my jaw tense. We can’t continue this. It has already gone too far.
You can’t stay away from her, asshole. You’re obsessed. I ignore my inner monologue.
“You wanted to be close to me?” I snarl, smiling when her features pinch with pain. “You wanted to know me? Congratulations, this is me. You got what you wanted.”
Her blue eyes well with tears, and her chin trembles, but all that does is make me tighten my grip. I have to ignore her tears, ignore her pain.
“You wanna know the truth? If you weren’t here, I would be on my way to visit those fuckers who owe me money. They knew what they were getting into when they borrowed from me. They knew the terms, and like everyone who needs money in a pinch, now that it’s time to pay up, they don’t want to live up to those terms.”
“You’re hurting me,” she croaks, bracing herself against the desk, using the other to push at my hand. I have to. Her nails sink into my flesh, leaving behind little crescent-shaped marks. I relish in the sting of pain that follows.
“That’s right. Because that’s what I fucking do.” I lean in until our noses touch. There’s so much fear in her eyes. I think she’s finally waking up, finally seeing the monster beneath the expensive suit. “I hurt people. And I don’t stop there, either. Do you want to know how many men I’ve killed, Caterina?”
Tears spill over her lashes and roll down her cheeks.
“I thought you wanted to know me,” I whisper when she doesn’t reply. “Wasn’t that what you said? You just want to be close to me. Well, this is who I am. Sometimes, you need to be careful what you wish for, because you might get more than you bargained for.”
“Let go of me,” she grits through her teeth. The strength in her voice causes an ache to form in my chest.
“Which is it? First, you want me, then you want me to let you go. You need to make up your mind.”
Her lip lifts in what might be anger, but I recognize the growing terror. She’s afraid she’s heard too much. That I might have to silence her for good. “I asked you to let me go,” she croaks.
That’s exactly what I need to do. To let her go, now and forever. She’s the worst thing to come into my life. The biggest liability. I can no longer kid myself. She’s wrong for me, and I’m entirely wrong for her, even if my treacherous cock and body refuse to see it.
“By all means.” I release her with a shove and sneer down my nose at her. “Get the hell away from me, and if you’re fucking smart, you’ll make sure you never find your way back into my office. Because no matter how tight your pussy is or how pretty and tempting you are, one of these days, it might be you I end up having to settle accounts with. And you won’t like how that ends. I can promise you that.”
This is it. No way will she want shit to do with me now. It’s for the best. Even her fear and her trembling chin are for the best. For both of us.
Yet, instead of running like anybody with a brain between their ears, she only stares at me, raising a hand to rub at her throat. “It isn’t true.” Her voice trembles along with the rest of her. “It isn’t.”
“Now you’re going to tell me what is and isn’t true? I gave you the chance to get the fuck out of my face—”
Her head swings back and forth. “I don’t think you want to hurt me. You’re just saying that.”
She may as well set a match to a powder keg.
I don’t know what pisses me off more. How wrong she is about what I’m capable of or how she reads my mind where it pertains to her. I only know I have no choice but to grab a handful of hair and yank her head back, glaring down at her while reaching for the gun resting against my lower back.
“You’re still that deluded?” I snarl, holding the pistol up for her benefit.
Her already tear-filled eyes bulge, focusing on it. She’s near hyperventilation with her quick, shallow breaths. “Please…”
“Please, what?” I touch the muzzle to her cheek, and she whimpers, then shudders as I drag it over her jaw and down her neck. “Please, don’t blow my brains out? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it. And accidents happen all the time. You could just as easily disappear without a trace.”
“Please, don’t,” she pleads in a tiny squeak of a voice.
“Maybe you’d rather have it someplace else.” I trace the curve of her tit, the flat plane of her stomach. She’s shaking harder, her breaths coming in sharp gasps. “Is that it? You want to feel it in your pussy?”
Once I reach the hem of her dress, I work the fabric up, pressing the steel against her thigh. She goes still, and her breath catches. “What? You usually cream your panties when I touch you here.”
It’s like studying a work of art, watching terror take hold. I stare into her eyes as the pupils dilate until there’s hardly anything left but black emptiness gazing back at me from her ghostly white face.
“I know what this is all about,” I whisper in mock surprise. “You can’t stand the thought of being away from my cock. That’s it, right? If you really want it that bad, I could bend you over the desk and claim your sweet pussy right now. Would that make you happy?”
She remains silent, and it’s not her silence I want. I tug her hair harder, forcing her to answer. “No.”
“No? No to what? You don’t want me to fuck you?”
“No.” Her voice is a little stronger now, but just barely.
I pull her closer one last time. The impulse to kiss her is almost too much to resist. Even now, I want her enough to make me hate her. “Then why the hell are you still here? This is your last chance. Go.” I release her again, hating myself even more.
I know she got the message loud and clear this time. Like a lamb running from the wolf stalking her, she hustles out of the office. Once she’s gone, I can breathe. The tension in my muscles releases, and I fall back into the chair, scrubbing a hand down my face. I need to get over this, to get away from her. We can’t be together or do whatever the fuck it was we were doing.
If she hates me, she hates me. That’s how it should be. How it needs to be. I’m too old for her. Too dark. Too dangerous. And I doubt she could hate me more than I hate myself right now, anyway.