“To the kitchen. You’re going to eat.”
“No, I’m not,” I spit.
“I’m not about to sit back and let anyone hurt you, Evie. That includes you,” he says.
“Why do you even care?” I don’t understand this guy. What is his deal?
Emmanuel stops. We’re halfway down the stairs when he turns around to face me. “Why wouldn’t I care?”
“You don’t know me?”
“Mi alma, I don’t need to know you. I know that I want to keep you. That’s enough for me.”
“What does that mean?Mi alma?” He keeps calling me that, and I have no idea what he’s saying.
“It means… mi alma.” He smiles. “You are mine now, Evie. You are my soul.”
“Yeah, I’m not.” I shake my head.
“I’ll give you time to get used to the idea.” He nods. “But right now, we’re eating dinner and you are going to tell me what the fuck happened to you.”
I keep my mouth shut, sitting when Emmanuel pulls out a dining chair for me. And I continue to keep it shut when he positions himself across from me. Two plates are brought in and placed in front of each of us. I pick up a fork and stare at it.
“Out of curiosity, how hard would it be to kill someone with this?” I ask.
“You want to stab it right here.” Emmanuel points to a spot on his neck. “Make sure to get it as deep as you can, then give it a little twist,” he says.
“Seems messy.” I shrug.
“It is,” he tells me.
Instead of trying to make conversation, I eat. My hunger strike lasted right up until I needed a distraction from the man across from me.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Emmanuelasks. “I know you won’t sleep, but we can do something to pass the time.”
“I want to go home. I want to be in my store.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll take you home, right after you tell me what happened to you and who did it.”
“Why are you so interested in my past?” I grumble and regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth.
“Because I plan on being your future, and for that to happen, I need to know your past.”
“You’re not going to be my future, Emmanuel. This? It’s not happening. You can keep me here forever, and it’s still not happening.” I gesture between us. Mostly because I’m never going to tell him about my past. And if I did tell him, he wouldn’t want me anyway.
Huh, maybe that’s my ticket out of here. Letting him see all the ugliness inside me.
“What would you do? Say someone did hurt me, what would you even do about it?” I ask.
“I’d bring you their heads on a silver platter,” he replies without hesitation.
Chapter Ten
“You’re a businessman, right?” Evie asks.
I nod my head, but don’t say anything.
“Then you understand that I do have to get home? I have a business to run.”
