"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in your territory torturing some poor undeserving soul?"
Tsking again he reaches out, brushing the pad of his thumb across my now healed lip, leaving a tingling trail behind. His eyes darken as I peek my tongue out, wetting my lips after he removes his hand. Tasting a faint salty trace from his oils on my lips as I do. Dropping his voice from his just teasing tone, he laces his voice with authority. “You better be careful sweetheart, that sassy mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble if you don’t learn how to bite your tongue. Start practicing now because that type of talk in front of my men will not be tolerated.” Pausing for a moment he gives me a crude smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I like a little fight and fire in a woman especially as I fuck her, but she needs to know when to watch her mouth.” I can't help but gape at him and his bold words.
Fucking? Images of this man forcing himself upon me stiffen my body.
He smiles at the fear now clearly painted on my face, enjoying it. “Now to answer your question. Not that I owe you an explanation, but I am here for a business deal with your father. I have some things I need to take care of with him."
Not sure how to respond to his earlier admission, when I finally reply I focus on the safer half of the conversation. When I speak my reply comes out meek and taut. “And what business would that be?"
"Nothing a little girl like you would need to concern yourself with." Agitation at his comment rears its ugly head, thawing me from my frozen composure. Without warning or a command from my brain my eyes narrow as I glare at him, annoyed at him practically calling me a child.
Not wanting to continue this banter any further I listen to my body’s inapparent need to flee from this lethal creature. I cautiously reach out to take my dinner from his hands so I can be on my way. Resisting for a moment, taunting me as he finally starts to release them just before he glances down and his gaze lands on my wrist. His eyes darken and the cocky smirk he has been sporting slips from his face. Shit. A low growl reverberates from his throat as he snatches my arm up, firm but gentle as to not hurt it.
"What the fuck happened here, who touched you?" I tug at my wrist trying to pull free from his grasp, feeling the pain as his hand digs into the bruised flesh.
"Nn noo one did," I stutter, not sure how to get around this.
Failing to slip my wrist from him, he looks up at me. His eyes harden. "Do not lie to me Liliana. I am not one for dishonesty. You ought to learn that now, it is another thing that will not be tolerated with me. I can see these are finger marks. Now answer me, who the fuck laid there hands on you?" His voice rising slightly, demanding an answer out of me.
During all the commotion my father had made his way into the kitchen. "What in the hell is going on in…"-
"Antonio, was I not blatantly clear about anyone touching her?" Interrupting my father he drawls, now in a gravely calm tone, compared to one that lacked control a moment ago. Tilting his head to the side to glance at my father, he holds up my arm so the bruises are now on display. My father's face pales slightly as he grapples for an excuse.
"It was one of my men. She was trying to escape after she was told of our arrangements and he caught her by the arm. His grip must have been a little too tight. I'm sure it was an honest mistake."
I gape at him open mouthed. Will he really blame one of his men? Nicoli doesn’t remove his cold gaze from him.
"Which one? I would like to have a word with him." My father drops his head looking as if he feels bad for throwing an innocent man to be punished by the devil himself.
"It was Dario… Let me go get him." My father hastily limps from the room and down the hall to find him, surely to threaten him to take the blame for this. I am still staring at the doorway my father just left from until I realize Nicoli's eyes have shifted and are now focused solely on me. Silence stretches until I uncomfortably clear my throat.
"Are you going to tell me what really happened?" I only stare at him, not responding. Seeing my reluctance to admit the truth, his nostrils flare at my refusal of him. "Fine,” he sneers. “Well, either way, someone will be punished for this as I will make it clear that no one is to touch you again. You belong to me now. It matters not to me who is the example." He drops my hand and walks out, leaving me alone once again in the kitchen.
I stand there for a moment trying to gather my thoughts that have been such a jumbled mess lately, as I try to shake off my guilt. Knowing someone will be punished for my refusal to speak.
Picking up the forgotten chips and granolas, I place them back into the pantry and head to my room. I am no longer hungry. As I am ascending the stairs I hear a man's muffled scream coming from my father's office. I pause for a moment before continuing, wondering what horrors he is putting that man through. Disgust at my father condemning another man to be punished for his own actions, and my cowardice for allowing it to happen. Sending
