Page 26

Chapter Nine

Alaric

After getting myself back under control—at no small expense, and no small effort—I made that little brat some food she couldn’t resist. I made some for myself, too.

It was easy enough to push it out of my mind that I was enjoying cooking for her.

But then, she started with the fucking waterworks.

Women have cried in front of me so many times I could spend the next year counting it off for someone, and I am—was—immune to it. Nothing gets through to me, which is just the way I like it.

Scratch that; it’s not only the way I like it, it’s the way ithas to be. In my line of work, having someone tug at your heartstrings causes unprofessional decisions to be made. And I am a professional.

But whenshestarted it up, and those big blue eyes of hers started leaking, that same infuriating, enraging, pain-in-the ass sensation I had felt earlier started clawing at my chest.

Fucking brat. I don’t need this.

I wanted to bend her over right then and there, and fuck my cum into her until she was overflowing; to get her to lie down for me and take it and lose her power over me; to make her cry for real because I was stretching her open with my cock and taming her ass with my thickest belt.

But as soon as I felt all these feelings closing in on me, closing around me like a man’s hand on my throat, I went cold as ice and got out of there.

It’d been a long time since I’d felt fear—that comes from not giving a damn—so it took me a few minutes, the walls of my house reeling around me, to recognize the feeling.

I wasafraidof this little girl. Something about her made me afraid.

And now, that fucking brat was lying on her bed, reading a Kindle, ignoring all the food. Except the roll she had snarfed.

Infuriating.

She was so fucking infuriating. I hated that she made me like her more by doing that—refusing to eat. She made me want to dominate her more, sure, but I liked that she was so defiant.

And I hated that I liked it. I hated that it would only make me enjoy my job more, I hated that I was starting to think less like a professional and more...personallyabout her.

Business is business, and nothing is personal.

I had a professional debt to Kyril. It was part of my code.

I could not be getting all fucked in the head about this girl.