“Briar Rose,” he whispers.
I wonder if he can feel my body shaking through his fingertips.
“What are you doing here?” he asks me again. And it might be my imagination, but the edge in his voice softens slightly.
When I don’t answer, he sighs, “I drag you out of hell, only for you to run right back?” He shakes his head, disappointment showing on his face. “My, my… how far my little ballerina has fallen. It’s no wonder you ended up in Giovanni’s warehouse. You’re just another whore for hire, aren’t you?” To prove his point, his grip tightens on my hair, pulling me closer toward him, but yet he still doesn’t take himself out.
I can’t speak, too busy fighting back the tears that form, his words landing like knives.
“You owe him money.” That brings my eyes snapping up. I’m not sure how, but he comes to the conclusion all by himself.How could he possibly know that?
He takes the look on my face as confirmation. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was pissed. Especially since his fist tightens in my hair.
“You should’ve run, left town…” His judgmental gaze trails over me, looking down at me like I’m just a stupid girl.
“I’m handling it,” I growl, my fists tightening at my sides, fingernails digging deep into my palms.
“Not well,” he scoffs. “Seeing as how you walked right back into the lion’s den.”
Anger flares and his last comment sends me over the edge. I shove him away from me, and he allows it, letting go of my hair. “You’rejudgingme?”Is he fucking serious?“Well, good thing it’s none of your business.”
“None of my business?” he growls, but I’m done.
I stand, cheeks burning with repressed rage. “I’m doing what I need to do, which, by the way, what I do is none of your concern. I’m not yours. I’m not anyone’s. Now get out.” I shove my finger to the door at his back, staring down the growing storm raging behind green eyes. Yeah, let’s see howhelikes rejection.
“I said,get out.”
He doesn’t move. Instead, his hand whips out, wrapping around my throat. Both of my hands fly up, trying to pry his fingers from my skin, but his grip is unyielding. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,Bella,” he hisses.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, and listen closely because I don’t repeat myself. You owe me a favor.”
I open my mouth to disagree—becauseI absolutely do notowe this man fucking shit—but his darkening eyes at the barest hint of my dissent has me snapping it shut.
“We’re going to leave this room together. You’re going to keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut and let me do the talking.”
Without warning, he starts toward the door, his hand wrapped around my upper arm, dragging me with him.
It’s work to keep up with Koen’s long strides as he half walks, half drags me down the hallway. He stops so abruptly, his hand on my arm is the only thing keeping me on my feet.
We’re in Gio’s office.
“I’m taking this one.”
Koen hauls me roughly forward—far rougher than is necessary—so I’m standing in between him and Giovanni. The amusement on Gio’s face fades away as he looks from the Irish boss and back to me.
“I believe the offer was for one?—”
“You owe me girls, Moretti.” Koen cuts him off. His voice is dark and dangerous. “And I require a littlecollateral. So until you make good on what you promised, I’m keeping this one with me.” He tugs me back toward him while I plead silently with Gio.
To his credit, the man looks torn, looking between me and Koen.
Don’t you fucking dare.My eyes narrow.
Oh my god. He’s gonna cave.I can see it written plain as day on the bastard’s face.
Giovanni sighs deeply. “There’s an auction in three weeks. I’ll have your girls by then.” He takes a sip from his glass before his eyes slide back over to me, but not looking me in the eye. “She’s untrained,” he warns, his gaze going back to Koen.
“That’s fine,” Koen says casually.
