"I don't wish to talk about it," I say, taking a deep breath to calm myself. I can feel a panic attack coming on, and I don't want to spiral in front of him.
I don't want to appear weaker than I already do.
As if he can feel the turmoil inside me, he places his big hand over mine. The warmth goes straight to my core. It makes me feel grounded, like I'm tethered to something.
"Where are we headed?" I ask.
"Home," he answers.
"Where's home?"
"You'll find out soon enough, little bird," he says.
The name sends goose bumps scattering over my skin. It's supposed to be derogatory, but I feel those two words reverberating inside my core.
"Why me?" I ask, licking my lips.
"I've been asking myself the same question."
"I should hate you."
"Do you?" he asks.
"You saved my life."
"I paid good money for you." He pins me with that whiskey stare.
There's something about the way he looks at me.
I'm usually the wallflower. I blend into the background. When people look at me, their eyes drift right past me. But it'snot like that with Dante. He's looking at me like I'm something rare. Like...I'm beautiful.
"Did you really pay two hundred grand for me?" I ask.
There's a shift in his eyes. I try to read it, but it's gone before I can make sense of it.
"I'm asking because you don't seem like the kind of guy who needs to buy women," I say.
"What makes you say that?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"You're obviously attractive and wealthy," I say. "Women probably throw themselves at you without you having to even try. And...I saw you before the raid happened. You looked uncomfortable to even be there."
"It wasn't my first time at one of those auctions," he says. "It was just the first time I bought someone."
His words are a reality check.
I shouldn't be feeling so comfortable around this man.
My intuition is usually on point, but everything is distorted today.
"Why me?" I ask again.
"Maybe I have secret perversions I wish to carry out with you," he says.
When our eyes meet, I get that same feeling again—like he's hiding something. I don't know what he wants from me, but he didn't buy me just because he could. He must have another motive.
"Like what?" I ask, feeling bolder than ever.
"Are you sure you want to know, little bird?" he asks.
