by Julia Sykes
I would preserve that sweet innocence, despite the circumstances that had brought her into my home.
Her father had changed her world when he’d decided to abduct Valentina. The blame for ripping Sofia out of her easy routine lay entirely with him. Not me.
I never would have claimed her for myself if Caesar hadn’t forced my hand. As long as I kept her safe and well cared for, I didn’t have anything to feel guilty about.
“Sofia,” I said, more loudly.
“Go away,” she groaned.
Definitely not afraid, I noted with amusement.
“I’m not going anywhere. It’s time to wake up, florecita.”
Suddenly, she flung the covers off with a gasp. Her wide, luminous green eyes met mine. For a moment, she simply stared at me, her lips parted in shock.
I decided to give her sluggish brain a minute to wake up and process her situation.
“What are you doing here, Mateo?” she demanded with surprising vehemence.
My brows lifted. “You’re at my house. Don’t you remember what happened yesterday?”
Before I could worry over whether or not the drugs I’d given her had messed with her mind, she snapped at me.
“Of course I remember!” She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing. “I mean, what are you doing in here? I was sleeping. And you just barged in without knocking.”
My lips curved, the small smile surprising me. I supposed she wasn’t aware that I’d slept beside her all night. My presence hadn’t disturbed her at all. I found her easy trust charming.
“I don’t think it would have made a difference if I’d knocked,” I remarked. “You wouldn’t have woken up. Do you always sleep this heavily?”
She shook her head, her curls swaying in wild disarray around her lovely face. “It doesn’t matter if I wouldn’t have woken up. You don’t just come into a girl’s room without an invitation. No invitation means no boys allowed.”
An involuntary chuckle rumbled from my chest. She pouted in response.
Fucking adorable.
“I’m not a boy,” I informed her. “And this is my house. I don’t have to wait for permission to enter any room.”
“Don’t you understand anything about privacy?” she spluttered. “Get out!”
“We talked about this last night, belleza. You have to earn the right to privacy. Did you really think I was just going to let you wander around unsupervised? Until I know you’ll behave, I can’t let you out of my sight. I won’t give you a chance to try to escape. And if you do try, I don’t think you’ll like what will happen when I catch you.”
She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I wasn’t trying to escape. I was sleeping. You don’t have to watch me when I’m asleep. Obviously, I wasn’t trying to go anywhere.”
“Obviously.” I smirked at her. “Now, get out of bed, Sleeping Beauty. You need to eat breakfast.”
“What are you, my warden?” she demanded, displaying far more fire than she had last night. Apparently, I’d poked the hibernating bear, and she was not at all pleased about it.
I shrugged, unapologetic. There was no point lying to her. “Kind of.”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times, and her tanned cheeks took on an angry flush. “Are you saying I’m your prisoner? Seriously, Mateo?”
She sounded as though she truly didn’t believe I was capable of holding her hostage. I found her reaction…kind of sweet. Most grown men were terrified of me. Then again, they were fully aware of my capacity for violence. Despite her changed circumstances, Sofia was still cocooned in her falsely safe worldview. This delicate little flower was speaking to me with more raw ire than anyone had dared in a long time.
My smirk widened to a grin.
“Is this funny to you?” she railed.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Surprisingly, it is. I assumed you’d be skittish this morning. Maybe crying. Instead, you’re yelling at me.”
Her cheeks colored a deeper shade of red. “I’m not yelling!” she insisted, her voice elevated to a much louder volume than usual.
“All right, then. You’re not yelling. Maybe you’re yowling at me. Like an angry little kitten. Kittens are usually angriest when they’re hungry, you know. You should get out of bed and have breakfast with me.”
She slapped her palms down on the mattress, fuming. “I’m not having breakfast with you!” she declared hotly. “You know what? I’m not doing anything with you.” She got to her feet and stormed toward me, every line of her willowy body drawn with defiance. “I’m going home.”
My smile dropped to a stern frown, and I stepped to the side to block her path out of the bedroom. My fingers curved around her shoulders, holding her in place with little effort.
She shoved at my chest; a tiny bird beating its wings against the confines of its cage.
I slid one hand to her nape, cradling her slender neck in a careful grip. I didn’t bother trying to restrain her flailing arms. She wasn’t hurting me, and she’d tire herself out long before I so much as broke a sweat.
“Settle down,” I commanded.
“Let me go,” she seethed, slapping my chest with what I was sure was her full strength. It did sting a little.
“If you continue acting like a brat, I’ll treat you like a brat,” I warned, remaining calm but firm. “And if you’re trying to push my boundaries, you’ll find that I push back.”
The furious tension didn’t ease from her body, but she didn’t slap me again.
“Are you done?” I asked, testing her just like she was testing me.
She slammed her fists against my chest. “No!” she challenged. “I’m not done. But you are. Let me go right now.”
My hold firmed around her neck, a slight flex of my fingers. She stilled instantly, her fists unfurling until her palms pressed flat against my chest. She wasn’t pushing me away anymore, and her body softened.
“I’ll let you go when you promise to behave.” I kept her locked in my steady stare.
Her head tipped back slightly, an unconscious sign of capitulation. Like any weaker animal cornered by a predator, she instinctively offered me clear access to her vulnerable throat, demonstrating her submission.
Keeping my grip on her nape, I lifted my free hand so I could stroke her exposed throat, letting her know that I was satisfied with her surrender. A small shiver raced through her body, and I curled two fingers beneath her chin, guiding her to tilt her head back farther to grant me even better access. She didn’t resist, and the angry sparks left her eyes. Her lashes fluttered as she gazed up at me, the last of her anger easing from her features.
“I want to go home, Mateo.” The harsh ring of demand had bled from her tone, and the words came out as a meek request.
“That can’t happen, florecita,” I told her gently as I resumed stroking her neck, tracing the line of her pulsing artery. It seemed to calm her, and her reaction satisfied me. The strange, new warmth I’d experienced yesterday unfurled in my chest.
“I can’t return you to your father.”
She flinched and cut her eyes away. “I didn’t mean… I don’t want to see Daddy.” She peeked up at me, imploring. “I just want to go back to my apartment. I want to go to class and be normal.”
“I wanted that for you too, belleza,” I admitted. “But you can’t go back to your apartment. Even if I were willing to return you there, your father could have men watching for you. If I leave you exposed, Caesar will take you back. I can’t allow that. I won’t.” The final declaration came out rougher than I’d intended.
She swallowed, and her eyes began to shine. “I won’t go home with him,” she promised. “I don’t want to talk to Daddy right now. I need time to process all this.”
Fuck, she was still so naïve.
“He’s not going to give you a choice, Sofia.” I tried to deliver the blow softly. “If he gets you back, he will betray Adrián again. As long as you’re free, you can be used against him at any time. He won’t
expose himself to that weakness, not after last night.”
“Daddy…wouldn’t hurt me.” The assertion hitched in her throat, her pale complexion suggesting that the very idea was so horrific that she could barely force the words out.
“No, I don’t believe he would. But he wouldn’t let you return to your classes, either. You’re either confined to my home or to his for the foreseeable future. And I’m afraid that surrendering you to him isn’t an option. If I did, things would get very bloody for Adrián and me.”
Her jaw went slack with shock, as though the prospect of violence had never occurred to her.
“I don’t want that,” she whispered. “I don’t want any of this.”
I finally released her nape to ease my fingers into her hair. I began to massage her scalp without really thinking about what I was doing. She cuddled up to me so sweetly when I soothed her, and I craved more of that.
I only applied the slightest pressure to the back of her head before she tucked her face against me. The warmth in my chest expanded, pulsing outward through the rest of my body.
I indulged in the strange new peace I experienced when she turned to me for comfort. I’d spent my adult life building my body to be as massive and strong as possible. But I’d never felt more powerful than I did when she pressed herself close to me, seeking my protection.
I couldn’t put the broken pieces of her blissfully ignorant reality back together, but I would protect her and provide for her. Once she eased into acceptance, she would be happy to belong to me.
“You’re going to be okay,” I murmured against her tangled curls. “You’re safe with me.”
Chapter 4
Sofia
I sniffled against Mateo’s chest, clinging to him despite the fact that he was essentially my captor. Confusion and distress muddled my ability to sort through my feelings about him.
On a rational level, I should hate him. I should still be yelling at him and hitting his granite body with all my strength.
But Mateo hadn’t hurt me, even though he’d had plenty of opportunities to do so since he’d abducted me. He could have acted on the chilling threats he’d made to my father. If he wanted to touch me, my lack of consent wouldn’t prevent him from doing whatever he pleased.
His massive arms surrounding me should incite fear; his sheer, overwhelming size was reminder of his strength and my physical vulnerability.
But so far, he’d only used his big hands to comfort me, stroking my body with tenderness. I knew he could bruise my flesh with minimal effort, but he touched me as carefully as one might handle a small kitten.
I shivered against him. He’d teased me for acting like an angry kitten while I’d been yelling at him. It had pissed me off at the time, but now, I was grateful for his gentle attention. My miserable new reality was setting in, and Mateo’s steady heat was undeniably reassuring.
I didn’t want to be his hostage. But I didn’t want to go home, either. The idea of being held against my will by my father was somehow worse than being Mateo’s captive. I was sure Daddy wouldn’t hurt me, but the revelations about his ruthlessness and cruelty were far more painful than anything Mateo had done to me so far.
In fact, Mateo hadn’t caused me any pain at all. Ever since I’d woken up in his house, he’d tried to ease my distress.
I felt the phantom touch of his hand firming on my neck, remembering when he’d rebuked me for hitting him. My brain seemed to stall out whenever he handled me like that. But it wasn’t unpleasant or scary.
He’d issued vague warnings about consequences if I tried to escape. That made me uneasy, but I shrugged off my budding concern.
If leaving his house meant I would be forcibly taken back to my father and imprisoned in my childhood home, I didn’t have much desire to escape from Mateo. As long as I was here with him, I didn’t have to fully face the awful truth about what Daddy was really like when he wasn’t around me. The indulgent father who’d joined me for childhood tea parties with my dolls couldn’t possibly be capable of condemning Valentina to rape and abuse. It was too painful to even contemplate.
Staying with Mateo would allow me to avoid that pain. Especially if he offered hugs like this one.
My stomach rumbled, and I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since I’d met with Valentina at the café yesterday afternoon.
That meeting felt like it had taken place weeks ago, even though I knew it had been less than twenty-four hours ago. My entire world had changed, and recalling my easy joy at befriending Valentina seemed surreal. Had I really been gushing about the curriculum at UCLA and giggling about a girls’ shopping trip this weekend just before she’d been taken and terrorized on my father’s orders?
“You need to eat, florecita,” Mateo murmured, pulling me out of my churning thoughts.
“Okay,” I agreed, my voice small. I really was hungry, and I didn’t feel like arguing with Mateo anymore. My morning outburst and subsequent tears had left me feeling wrung-out and weak. I didn’t have any reason to fight him, anyway. Not after he’d just explained the bleak alternative to staying here with him.
He released me from his warm embrace. I swayed toward him as he stepped away, reluctant to lose his reassuring heat. He grasped my shoulders, steadying me.
“There’s a new toothbrush under the bathroom sink,” he supplied. “Why don’t you freshen up a little, and then we can have breakfast. You’ll feel better after.”
Now that he mentioned it, I realized that I did feel kind of gross. I was still wearing yesterday’s dress, and I knew my hair must be a crazy mess.
“I need to shower,” I said softly. Maybe I could cleanse more than just my skin. Hot showers usually helped me clear my head, and I could definitely use some clarity right now.
“There are fresh towels in there, too,” he said. “Use whatever you need.”
I tugged at my dress. “But I don’t have any clothes to change into.”
He traced the line of my jaw, his dark eyes focusing on my features with the strange intensity that made my stomach do funny flips.
“You can wear my clothes.” The offer sounded more like a rumbling decree.
“Your clothes won’t fit me.” I glanced down his huge body. Before my gaze could linger on his powerful muscles, he touched two fingers beneath my chin to redirect my attention to his face.
“We’ll find something that works.” He continued to stare at me with that disconcerting, unwavering intensity.
I shifted on my feet, suddenly hot and off-balance. “But I don’t have any fresh underwear,” I protested just before my cheeks burned with mortification.
Had I really just said that out loud?
One corner of his mouth tilted in a wicked smirk, and he brushed his thumb over my lower lip. “That’s too bad. I guess you’ll just have to make do without.”
His darkly pleased expression and dismissive words should have sent a chill of fear through my system. Although my skin pebbled, heat licked along my veins.
“But I need my stuff,” I countered weakly. “I don’t have my haircare products or anything.”
He touched a particularly unruly curl, tucking it behind my ear. “You don’t need any makeup or hair products.”
I shook my head slightly. Mateo clearly didn’t understand the importance of a strict regimen to keep my curls in order. I loved my hair and made every effort to ensure it looked glossy and polished.
When I was little, my mother had despised dealing with my hair. She’d told me it was a frizzy mess, and she’d insisted on taking a flat iron to my curls every day. Of course, she’d assigned a nanny to manage the boring task. She might have hated the idea of her daughter looking untidy, but it didn’t bother her enough that she would see to fixing it herself.
I’d finally rebelled at the age of fifteen. I threw the straighteners in the garbage and bought every product I could find for curly hair until I discovered the perfect daily routine.
“Yes, I do need my products.” My argum
entative spark returned, and I straightened my spine. “My hair will be a mess without them.”
Mateo shrugged. “There’s no one here you need to impress.”
I stiffened and took a step back, pulling away from the heat of his hands. I didn’t care about impressing anyone. My hair was a point of personal pride, a symbol of my decision to take control over my own life. His dismissiveness was a cruel reminder that I no longer had any control. My choices, my freedom, had been taken away.
I turned sharply and stalked into the bathroom without another word, making sure to slam the door as a warning not to follow me.
I needed some space from Mateo. I couldn’t think straight when he was touching me. Just because he was being gentle didn’t mean I had to roll over and meekly accept my fate as his hostage. I didn’t have to cling to him when I cried, like a stupid little girl who was desperate for reassurance and affection.
Shoving down my roiling emotions, I focused on freshening up. I might not have any of my usual supplies for my morning routine, but I could at least brush my teeth and take a shower.
I found the toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink, just as Mateo had promised. For a fleeting moment, I wondered why he had a spare, new toothbrush stocked and ready to go.
Idiot, I scolded myself. There was a very obvious reason why a man might keep extra toiletries in his house: to have a supply on hand in case a woman spent the night unexpectedly.
Of course Mateo was prepared for female overnight guests. Women probably swooned for him all the time. He was jacked and gorgeous and insanely sexy with his broody, bad boy vibe.
I rolled my eyes as I brushed my teeth. I had to get that girlish fantasy out of my head. Mateo might not be cruel, but he was definitely a dangerous man.
I wondered if the other women he brought to his house knew he was a criminal. Was he sweet to them too? Did he hold them as tenderly as he’d held me?
Frustrated with my wayward thoughts, I slapped the toothbrush down onto the sink and stomped the short distance to the shower. The water warmed within seconds, and I jerked the curtain closed with a bit more force than necessary as I stepped under the hot spray.
