“And the rest? Your 'import/export business'?” She makes air quotes with her fingers, actual air quotes. “Was that true, too?”
“Yes. In fact, I imported the stones for this house.” I motion around.
“Lovely,” she hisses. “But there has to be more here. You can’t be…this…”
“What, rich?”
“Exactly!” Her furious gaze meets mine, like being rich is a crime.
I hold back a smile, utterly captivated by this anger of hers. All this while, Gela Jones was the sweetheart of the neighborhood. How her colors have changed, right in front of my eyes, and I’m all for it.
“Look, if you’re asking, I’m not like those guys,” I say.
“You killed three men today!” she shouts, stepping closer to me.
“I think one of them was still alive. But look, if I hadn’t done that, they would have killed you,” I remind her, not too gently.
“Look at you. Where do we sign you up for the Nobel Peace Prize?” she hisses, stepping closer, until I can smell her perfume and see the little flecks of black in her brown eyes.
“Trythank you. I’ll settle for that.” I let out a grin at last. God, now that I’ve seen this fire in her, I have no other choice but to stoke it.
She's inches from me now, her chest heaving with annoyance. If we were different people, in a different situation, I'd pull her against me and kiss that rage right off her lips.
“Go to hell.”
“You've already wished that on me once today. Try something new.”
She makes a sound of pure frustration and turns away to pace in panic, curving a hand through that silken blonde hair on her scalp, and the move nearly undoes me.
“This is insane. All of it. I can't believe this is happening.”
I watch her without moving, transfixed. I feel that if I blink, I’ll miss too much. “Believe it.”
She turns back to me with a flare. “Can I at least have some water? Or is that too much to ask from my kidnapper-slash-husband?”
I gesture toward the kitchen, just wanting to see more of her in action. “Help yourself. First door on the right.”
She stalks off, and I let her go. The house is secure, and I doubt she’s foolish enough to try to escape right now, in broad daylight.
But when a couple of minutes pass, and she doesn’t return, I follow her path.
To my shock, the kitchen is empty when I enter. That’s when I notice the kitchen door ajar.
Son of a bitch.
I run through the door just in time to see Gela halfway across the lawn, heading for the perimeter fence. She's fast for someone in heels, I'll give her that.
“Gela!” I shout, but she doesn't stop. In fact, mother has mercy, she runs faster.
I take off after her, trying to catch up. She glances back, sees me gaining on her, and lets out a little yelp of frustration.
A very cute little yelp, at that.
She's almost at the fence when two of my guards notice me chase and intercept her, only to grab her roughly by the arms.
She struggles against them, kicking and twisting like a wildcat.
“Let me go!” she screams at the top of her lungs. “Help! Somebody help me!”
