In a way, that was disappointing.
As much as I hated to admit it, it was exhilarating to be manhandled by someone like him. He was impetuous and dangerous, I knew that, but that’s what made it all so fun. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t half as clever as he was dangerous, and proof of that was the way I had managed to steal the SIM card.
I only had to bat my eyelashes at him a couple of times, give his bicep a quick squeeze, and the old Roman blood that coursed through its veins made him lose all composure. No wonder the barbarians crushed Rome. They probably threw a few naked women over the walls, and then it was only a matter of severing the heads of a few thousand gaping morons. All things considered, pillaging an empire isn’t that hard, provided you have enough naked women.
Once the elevator stopped on my floor, I rushed into my apartment, slamming the door shut behind me. I grabbed the SIM card from my purse and, without a moment’s hesitation, wandered into the kitchen and threw it into the blender.
“Come on,” I muttered, pressing the On button over and over again. Remembering that the damn thing had a safety feature, one that stopped it from functioning without any food in it, I started rummaging through my fridge. “This oughta do it.”
I opened the lid of a jar of marinara, sighing at the waste of it, and dumped the whole thing inside the plastic container. It gurgled as it hit the bottom, some of it dripping down the sides, and it drowned the SIM card in tomato sauce.
Easy win.
I reached for the button again, ready to send the card into the afterlife, and that’s when the front door burst open, wood flying through the air.
“What the fuck are you doing?” a red-faced Indro shouted, charging into my apartment like a raging bull. Before I could do anything about it, he grabbed me by the wrist and spun me around, pushing me away from the blender. “If you think I’m fooled that easily, then you’re in for a surprise.”
Reacting on instinct, I brought my knee up. It crashed between his legs with a dull thud, deflating Indro like a balloon someone had poked a hole in. I pushed him aside, reaching for the blender as if it was my lifeline, but the asshole grabbed my ankle and tripped me.
My knees hit the kitchen tiles, pain shooting up my bones, and I tried to punch and kick Indro away from me. Suffice to say, the results were mixed. Even though I knew how to punch assholes into submission, Indro was far more skilled than I was when it came to conflict, and that showed in the way he manhandled me.
“You’re fucking impossible,” he growled, pinning my wrists against the floor as he straddled me. “Now stay put, or else I’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a month.”
Groaning, he pushed himself off of me, and I immediately considered his threat. I would never tell him that, but I wouldn’t mind another spanking. In fact, that was something I could see myself enjoying.
“Not a fucking move,” he said, glancing at me over his shoulder. By then, I was already on my feet and ready to hit the blender. Moving impossibly fast, he grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. “Jesus Fucking Christ, woman. Do you even speak English?”
“Get out of my house,” I snapped, and he replied with one of his cocky grins.
“In a minute.” Using his free hand, he rummaged through the cupboards until he found an extension cord. Dragging me across the kitchen, he forced me to sit down on a chair, and then laced the cord around my torso and the chair’s backrest. Once he had me properly tied up, he placed both hands on his hips and gave his handiwork an approving nod. “Perfetto.”
“You have no idea how much pleasure it’ll give me to see your ass dragged into jail,” I told him, and his amused expression quickly gave way to a sour one. “I hope that priest guy comes forward and nails you.”
“Do I need to remind you that our futures are intertwined?” He spun on his heel and went behind the kitchen counter. After unscrewing the lid on the blender, he let out a weary sigh and dipped his fingers into the marinara. Five seconds later and his hand emerged, the tiny SIM card pressed between his fingers. “Don’t forget who you’re working for.”
“Screw you.”
“Is that how it’s going to be?”
“Damn right.”
“So be it.” Shaking his head in mock disappointment, he grabbed the plastic container with the marinara and sauntered toward me. With a dramatic sigh, he rolled his eyes at the ceiling and then upended the damn thing on my head, the thick sauce coating my hair in the most hideous of ways. “Remember, Sophie, if something happens to me… you’re just as screwed as I am.” He turned to leave, but stopped to throw me one last glance. “Let that marinate in your mind.”
Chapter Fourteen
Indro
Damn, how could I let that happen? How did I let myself get distracted by that woman? Something about this Sophie chick was blinding me from reality.
You’re out for yourself, Indro. First yourself, then the family.
My blood was boiling as I took the stairs out of her building. I didn’t even get any satisfaction as I thought about pouring that marinara all over her head. It was the sort of last move I loved. Leave them with something to remember. Instead I couldn’t stop thinking about Sophie’s lips as she downed Negronis. I couldn’t stop thinking about her ass when I had her bent over at the restaurant.
Fuck. I had to pull myself together. Nothing good comes from being distracted.
I rushed past the doorman and pushed through the double
