He threads his fingers through my hair at the back of my neck and cups my nape. The hold is possessive and commanding. “You will sleep here, in my bed. Is that clear?”
“Or?”
He presses his lips on my ear. “Or the next time I bend you over, I won’t be so lenient with my belt.”
The words hit a nerve. I break free from his grip. “You’re just like my father.”
The golden flames leap in his eyes, their intensity burning icier and crueler. “No, darling.” His voice is soft, the anger controlled, telling me just how dangerous Dante is because such control demands enormous strength of will and character. “I’m nothing like him.” He catches me in the same hold as before and drags me closer to whisper words over my lips. “And we both know that.”
This time, when I fight him, he lets me go.
“You’re using me, Dante, just like he did, with no regard for my feelings.” I pull myself to my full height, meeting his angry stare head-on. “Tell me how that makes you a better man.”
“Yet you loved both of us once.”
The statement is like a punch in the stomach.
Because he’s right.
I did love my father, and I did love Dante. But that was before I knew what their plans were for me, when I still believed they cared.
“Trust me, Tatiana.” He cups my face in a deceptively tender act. “Give me what I want, and I’ll take care of you.”
The smell of his aftershave and sex infiltrates my nostrils, reminding me what I did and with whom. I take his wrist and move his hand away. He drops it at his side, not attempting to touch me again but nevertheless stepping closer. Too close.
“I’ll keep you safe.” He delivers the promise with a solemn tone and an unreadable expression. “But I won’t let you go. You can either live in comfort or in a cage.” Finally giving me space, he puts a small distance between us. “The choice is yours.”
With that, he goes to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, leaving me closer to understanding what his plans are for me.
I’m not just being kidnapped by Dante to be used and set free when I no longer serve a purpose.
I’m already his prisoner.
For life.
Chapter
Eight
Dante
* * *
Tatiana is in bed when I finish my shower. She lies with her back to me, her face turned to the wall. When I lift the covers and get in beside her, she doesn’t react. She’s wearing a T-shirt that reaches her thighs, the one she washed last night and hung in front of the window to dry.
I always sleep naked, but I’ve put on a pair of briefs. Sleeping together is intimate, even more so than fucking, and she’s not ready for that kind of intimacy. Clothes provide a measure of protection from vulnerability. I may not be able to give her the freedom she wants, but at least I can give her this. And a little distance between us. For now.
It takes a long time before her breathing turns even. I try to get some shut eye, but it’s useless. I’ve got a lot on my mind.
For starters, there’s Noah and integrating him into my life without causing him undue stress. Then there’s my plan for Teszner, which I’m finally able to see through. I’m so close to achieving what I’ve set out to do that I can almost taste the victory on my tongue. My immediate focus though is on finding the men who’d hurt Tatiana.
She’s a fitful sleeper, tossing and turning throughout the night. Yet the way she stirs in the early morning hours is different. Shaking her head from side to side, she claws at the sheets and mumbles, “No.”
I switch on the bed lamp and touch her shoulder. “Tatiana, wake up.”
Perspiration beads on her brow. “No.”
I give her a gentle shake. “You’re dreaming.”
