A single tear slid down her cheek, a river of them on the verge of flooding down her face.
Tony dropped his hand from her chin, only to backhand her a second later. Stars exploded across Nessa’s vision, and she cried out at the white-hot pain lancing across her face.
“What have I told you about ignoring me, Vanessa?” Tony hissed, grabbing her neck and squeezing. Her airway constricted, the breath leaving her in a rush as she struggled against her bindings, uselessly trying to escape his hold.
The chains clinked loudly in the room, amplifying the furious pounding of her heart as it beat in her ears.
“Apologize, Vanessa,” Tony snapped, getting in her face. He licked the side of her cheek where another tear had fallen and groaned. “I’ve always enjoyed the taste of your fear.” His fingers tightened around her neck. “Now do as you’re told before I lose my temper.”
“I’m … sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, her throat on fire as the words passed her lips.
And shewassorry.
Sorry she hadn’t killed him in his sleep all those years ago.
Sorry she hadn’t given Murphy her blessing to fly to Chicago and kill him for her.
If she’d been more cold-hearted, more vengeful, this all could have been avoided. Jasper would be fine, still pestering her about snacks. Her only concern would be Dante and the implications his impending doom would have on her and Murphy’s relationship. She’d known they’d work through it together, though, but now she’d never get that opportunity.
Laughing, Tony released her, stepping back.
Nessa gasped for air, her lower lip trembling as she fought against the terror threatening to swallow her whole.
“I’m sorry about killing your boy toy,” he taunted, earning a few laughs from the men in the room. “I’m sure you didn’t enjoy watching him die, but he should have known better than to touch what’s mine.”
Through the pain, Nessa did a double-take. He thought Jasper was her boyfriend? Did that mean he hadn’t looked into her life? He didn’t know about her relationship with Murphy? She let out a small sigh of relief.
“Fuck you, Tony,” Nessa blurted out, her tone full of venom. She snapped her mouth shut, afraid of what he’d do to her for the insult. He’d never liked her cursing, and especially not at him. He’d beaten her badly over it before.
Tony sobered, a harsh, wrathful glint shining in his eyes. “I saw that little love bite he left on your neck, you goddamn slut. You let just anyone fuck you like that or was he special?”
Nessa’s hands clenched, overwhelmed by the need to cover her mating mark from his gaze. He didn’t deserve to see it, to even discuss it with her.
“Best sex of my life,” Nessa replied proudly, antagonizing him despite her better judgment. She was so tired of being afraid. She was sick to her gut of always letting Tony win every time. If she was going to die here, she refused to do so as a coward. “He could have given you some pointers.”
Tony stomped toward her, lifted his hand, and struck her again. Her top lip split from the force of the blow, warm blood rushing to the surface and dripping down her face. She cried out, the movement only opening her wound further, making it worse.
“Sounds like you want to fuck, Vanessa. I’ll enjoy reminding you of just how rough it can get,” Tony warned, lifting his hand to hit her again.
She flinched instinctively, both at his words and his hand. He smiled in satisfaction.
“Now that we’ve got that settled …” Tony reached around her head, grabbing a fistful of her hair. He ripped her head back and bellowed, “Where thefuckis my money?”
“I don’t have it,” she answered through the ache in her throat where he’d bruised it, feeling the strangest urge to grin when his eyes narrowed with rage, his lips twisting into a severe frown.
He was going to kill her, but he wouldn’t get a single cent back. Was it worth her life? Absolutely not. But depriving him of what he wanted … that was the only vengeance she could get now.
“You don’t have it,” he repeated through clenched teeth, his tone full of disbelief. “You stole three million dollars from me, you traitorous bitch, and you don’t have it?”
“I spent it all,” she bragged. “Every last cent.”
“You’re lying,” Tony grated out, shoving her away from him. Her body pitched backward and to the side, her shoulders straining from the pressure of holding her up.
“Why would I lie?” She shook her head, assaulted by a quick bout of dizziness. Nausea churned in her gut as the room danced around her. “You should ask Angelo. He can tell you I’ve spent it all on renovations for my business,” she bluffed. “I’m surprised he’s not here.”
Bringing up her brother stung—he was a wound that would never heal—but at least now she had confirmation that she’d seen him that day outside the restaurant.
How long had he been stalking her? Weeks? Months?
