“It is not your job to worry about me,” I snarl. I point at a chair in the center of the room, situated beneath a bare light bulb overhead. “Sit.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“I saidsit.”
She drops into it, still trembling.
I lean in, my face right in front of hers. “It would be wise not to lie to me right now,” I warn. When she doesn’t say anything, I bite my lips and nod once, then stand up straight again. “You’ve been following me. True or false?”
“I’m your assistant!”
I sigh inwardly. She’s actually going to make this hard. Alright. “Let me rephrase. You’ve beenstalkingme.”
My eyes slice back over to her. Even in the shadowy light, I can see her throat tensing. But her stare is rock hard.
Stubborn little kitten.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”
Oh, Amara.If only she knew who she’s actually dealing with.
Unless, of course… she does.
“It wasn’t a question. I know you’ve been stalking me. I’ve set up traps. The phone, the one you linked the location to. That goes both ways, you know.”
She swallows. The sound of her terror sends that prickly surge over my skin again.
I go on. “You’ve been digging into my personal life on your laptop. I know this because it’s an Apex laptop and I can see anything and everything everyone does at the click of a mouse. You’ve been lingering in my penthouse longer than permitted, using my glassware, leaving doors open…”
I pull the hair clip from my pocket and hold it out to her.
“ … leaving personal items behind…” I bend down again, my face close enough to hers that she physically can’t look away. “First rule of thumb when you’re stalking a very dangerous man, Amara? Don’t. And the second rule is, if you are stupid enough to break rule number one, don’t be sloppy about it.”
“It was just a g-glass of water.” Her voice comes out all breath. A Hail Mary, a desperate prayer for mercy.
But I think it goes without saying that I’m not a religious man. I’ve seen too much of the devil to believe in God.
“No, Amara, it wasn’t. It was a glass of water… a phone that shouldn’t have been touched… a white button-down shirt that you swap out every so often so I won’t notice it’s missing. Another thing about dangerous men, Amara? We notice everything. I know your address; I know your family’s address; I know your Social Security Number; I know you wear Gucci perfume just to fuck with me. I know who you keep company with, your favorite wine, your skincare routine. So I think it would be wise if you start talking. And only tell me the truth from now on.”
Amara is quiet for a moment, but I don’t mind. I have time. She’ll break sooner rather than later.
Eventually, she tips her chin up. “What if I don’t?”
My eyebrow almost arches at that. I’m not used to people being this defiant. I have an entire surgical kit in my trunk built for breaking defiance, so people usually just answer the questions.
But this way is more fun.
I keep my eyes on her for a long time, saying nothing, before I start to undo my tie. I can see her pupils dilate as she questions what is coming. I know she is expecting a consequence. I don’t know if she expects me to use the tie to bind her hands.
But that’s what I do. I bend forward and loop the fabric around both of her wrists. After pulling the knot tight enough to makeher gasp, I hold her hands over her head, my face close enough to hers that I could kiss her.
Kiss her.Wouldn’t that be some sweet fucking torture?
For her, though?asks a voice in my head.Or for you?
“What are you going to do to me, Mr. Rozanov?” she asks. “Are you going to punish me?”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you? If I strung you up and tortured you with my mouth? If I kissed you, teased you, drove you wild over and over again without ever actually satisfying you?”
