Talking about it was one of the last things I wanted to do, but sitting here with Lake, I felt… it was weird, but I felt like I wanted to open up, wanted to tell him what happened. Would he think less of me? I mean, what kind of girl was oblivious to her steady boyfriend and little sister hooking up under her nose for over half a year?
“It’s okay,” I finally spoke, breaking my silence and causing Lake to exhale a shaky, nervous breath. This guy really didn’t want to be invasive; he was almost too nice. “I, uh, I used to go to school. Hillcrest University.”
“That’s that rich school a state over, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “One day my class was canceled, but I didn’t know until I got there.” Memories flashed in my head, and though I tried to act impartial, like the cut didn’t still sting, it did. The wounds were still raw, and I hated the pain in my heart. “When I got back home, I found my sister and my boyfriend going at it.”
Lake’s expression changed, and he looked like he was going to tell me how sorry he was, so I plowed on.
“Like rabbits,” I said. “So, I flipped. Kicked his cheating ass out and reamed my sister. When my parents got home from work, they told me it wasn’t a big deal.”
That Lake couldn’t keep silent on. “They told you it wasn’t a big deal that your boyfriend and your sister were doing it behind your back?” He was incredulous, and I couldn’t blame him. Something like that would never leave the lips of normal parents; my parents, though, were anything but normal.
Everyone in Hillcrest was a little off their rocker, somehow. People with money were never normal. They all had their skeletons, the shit they’d rather work to hide than let their mistakes be widely known. My family was no different.
“Yep,” I muttered, drawing my feet up on the sofa and wrapping my arms around my legs. “And then my mom made a comment to me, basically saying they’d been doing it for months behind my back and I was clueless then, so why couldn’t I just forget about it and let it go? He came from a nice family, after all—”
“Damn,” Lake spoke with a frown. The frown hardly sat well on his face, nowhere near as cute as his dimples and smile were, but that frown meant he was on my side, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world. “That’s cruel, and heartless.”
“That’s my family.”
He inched closer. “Well, I know I’m pretty much still a stranger to you, but from what it sounds like, you’re better off without them.” Lake gestured to the apartment, to all of the new furniture resting within it. “You don’t need any of this to be happy. You don’t need their money or their approval. Sometimes you just have to cut out the toxic people and move on, even though it’s hard.”
“You’re smart, Lake,” I spoke, a smile biting at my lips. “You might be a stranger, but I think I like you.” Whoa. I did not mean to say that… did I?
Dimples appeared on his cheeks. “I’d say I’m a pretty likable guy, but that feels like something a douche would say.”
I giggled. “Yeah, you’re right there.”
“All jokes aside, I think I like you too, Zoey.”
I blinked, and suddenly Lake’s face was far too close to mine. Was he leaning in, or was I? Were we both doing it, unaware? And, perhaps most importantly, I wondered: what would happen if I did kiss him?
Lake’s eyelids were half-closed, his breathing slow and steady. He was so close; it really wouldn’t take much from me to close what little distance there was left between us, to press my lips upon his and let him push out the conflicting, anxious thoughts in my head. To let Lake drown me in his newness, his kindness, even if it was all a show. Sometimes it was good to simply let go.
That’s how I wound up in this weird arrangement with Roman, though.
Fortunately for me, the oven chose that exact moment to go off, the timer beeping to let me know the pizza rolls were done. I jerked away from Lake, practically leaping to my feet and hurrying to the oven, pretending not to notice the disappointment that crossed his face when I pulled back so fast.
Yeah, me and him… it was a bad idea. We were neighbors. We could be friends, but that’s it.
Chapter Eight – Roman
There was something to be said of how a nice, long, hot shower could make you feel. The steam helped your skin, the water washed off all the grime, and the privacy of the room let you relax and let everything go.
And showers were quite necessary after the days I had. No better way to wash the blood off you.
My chest rose and fell, my chin to my chest and my hands flat on the tiled wall beneath the showerhead. I had the heat turned up as hot as it would go, the water pelting my head, coursing down my neck and shoulders. It fell to the floor of the shower, swirling around the drain before disappearing.
Tonight the water ran red. It had been a busy day.
Fingers stretched flat against the tile, attached to hands that created so much havoc, spilled so much blood. I did what I had to, did what I could to protect our interests. There were always people who thought they could use us or get the better of us, but those people found out just how wrong they were to think that way.
The Russo name might not mean what it used to, we might be a dying breed, but I would not go out of this world without a fight, and I owed my allegiance to one family. The Lucianos.
When the water ran clear, when my body was clean, I turned off the water and stepped out. I grabbed a towel, running it over my hair and drying off quickly. In the mirror, my reflection mirrored what I was: a scarred, lean machine made for enforcing the rules and reminding those who thought they were above them. I really did hate the word assassin, because what I did wasn’t always in the shadows or in the darkness, where no one knew I was there.
The ones I went after were always aware of my presence before I killed them. I made sure they realized their mistakes before they breathed their last breaths, and I always left a message behind, warning others not to make the same mistake.
I dropped the towel onto the sink and left the bathroom, heading straight into my room. A large, expansive space filled with hand-crafted wooden furniture. Sleek and modern, everything in my home was new. Some people liked the old, but I was all for new when it came to objects.
Zoey… she was new. I doubted her newness would wear off for a while yet, and when it did—when it did we would figure out what to do. Right now, as it was, I couldn’t ever imagine myself letting her walk away, letting her recant her admission that she was mine.
She was mine, and I would relish every single moment I had to remind her of that fact.
Zoey had gotten my gifts. I’d also heard something very interesting about her neighbor, something I could not sit back and ignore. No, from now on I’d have Carter watch her when I didn’t need him. That, or I’d force her to be here, like I was tonight.
She wasn’t working at the Dollhouse. It was Friday night, and she had nothing but time, so I’d sent Carter to her place to fetch her, to bring her here. She and I had to have a little chat, it seemed, for she did not quite comprehend what it meant to belong to me.
I stood before my dresser, stark naked, taking my time in choosing what I would wear. A knock pounded on my door, and I left the dresser to find Carter standing just outside in the hall. He held his hands behind his back, his nose upturned. “Well?” I asked, unable to know by his expression whether or not he was successful in bringing her here. If I had to guess, Zoey put up a fight.
My girl was not the easiest one around.
“She’s waiting for you,” Carter spoke, his green eyes never once dropping below my bare chest. “She was not thrilled to be summoned.”
I smirked. “I bet she wasn’t. Did you have to drag her kicking and screaming?” What a sight that would’ve been, I bet.
“Almost,” Carter spoke. “I’ll go watch her, until you’re ready for her.” He bowed his head to me before turning and heading away.
Within five minutes, I was dressed in a clean black suit, my damp hair slicked back. I kne
w I looked good, and I knew with one glance from me, Zoey would melt like she had before. Tonight was about making her realize what she had, who she belonged to, and the limits of my patience.
I was not a very patient man.
Carter had Zoey waiting in the front. She wore a loose t-shirt, along with leggings that hugged her legs so tightly they left nothing for the imagination. I bet she wore no underwear beneath them. And those damned pink shoes. She wandered around, studying the lobby of my home as if she’d never been in a place so nice.
She had. She came from Hillcrest, and from looking into it and her family, she came from wealth. Maybe not as much wealth as I had at my disposal, but she was not poor. She was not destitute; she simply left all she could behind when she ran because of her sister’s and boyfriend’s betrayal.
Carter stood off to the side, his arms crossed. The moment I walked in, he did not notice me right away, his gaze lingering on her. He was never a man to show his emotions on his face, never one to admit his feelings to anyone, especially himself. I knew he would die for me and do it gladly, but he would never say so out loud to me; it was fine. Some things were better left unsaid.
Zoey was the one who noticed me first, and when she did, Carter turned his head to me, too. Both their eyes were on me, and I gestured for Carter to leave us, which he did—albeit begrudgingly. I knew him well enough to know he hoped for a little punishment that would involve his dick.
As Carter left, I walked to Zoey’s side, offering her my arm. “Come,” I said, “you and I need to discuss a few things.”
Her full lips puckered, but she said nothing as she slipped her hand through my arm and let me lead her through my home. I took her to my office, where the walls were painted dark and the lighting was dim. No windows, only a lone desk, along with a small sofa near the bookcases. I didn’t spend much time here, but every man should have his own office.
I sat Zoey on the couch, saying nothing for a while as I went to lean my backside on the outer edge of my desk. I met her questioning eyes, holding her stare for the longest while. She was smart enough to know why she was here, and yet I knew I would have to spell it out for her.
Let’s start slowly.
“How did you like your new furnishings?” I questioned, my lips barely moving with the words. It took everything in me to do this slowly, to not jump to the chase immediately.
“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Her expression read that she wasn’t impressed; coming from Hillcrest, I supposed material belongings wouldn’t impress her, but I’d be damned if she lived in that hole without an actual mattress. “Plus, I don’t remember ever telling you where I lived.”
“You didn’t need to,” I told her, unashamed of what I’d done. I’d done a lot worse in my life than buy a beautiful girl some new furniture. “I know everything there is to know about you, Zoey. There is nothing in your life you can hide from me, not anymore.”
That should’ve been all she needed to hear to know what this abrupt meeting was about.
When she said nothing, I pushed off my desk, moving to where she sat. I leaned down over her, holding my hands on the back of the sofa, watching as she reclined back to let me tower over her, hovering, watching, waiting. Her lips parted, the blue in her gaze glazing over immediately.
Oh, I had power over her, that much was obvious. It was intoxicating.
“You’re mine, Zoey Marbella, don’t you ever forget that,” I whispered, feeling the blood pumping faster in my body.
“I never agreed to you controlling every aspect of my life,” she started, but the moment I smirked, she stopped.
I leaned down to her, pressing the side of my cheek against her forehead, feeling her cool skin against mine, whispering into her ear, “When you’re mine, you’re mine. Every single part of you is mine. What you do in your spare time, what you dream about, what you think about—all of it pertains to me, because you belong to me now. Do you understand that, Zoey?”
She gulped, squirming on the leather sofa beneath my towering frame. “And if I say no? That I change my mind and I don’t want to be yours?”
Moving my face away from hers, I stared at her so hard she might just self-combust. “That is not something you get to recant. You’re mine now whether you want to be or not, and if you run, I will find you. I will hunt you to the ends of the earth if I have to—do not mistake my desire for you as a weakness.”
Zoey looked like she wanted to argue, to be her usual defiant self, so my hand found her neck the next moment, gripping it hard enough to stifle the air from her lungs just a bit. Just enough to stop her from saying anything stupid.
The pleasure I gave almost always went hand-in-hand with pain.
As I held onto her neck, I hissed, “You understand that means your body is not your own.” Using my other hand, I trailed fingers down her face, past her tits, feeling her trembling with yearning under me. “This,” I whispered, cupping the space between her thighs, rubbing her slit through her leggings and making her practically mewl, “is mine. Mine to touch, mine to taste, mine to give.”
Zoey said nothing, but I knew the way her body reacted to my touch, she could not deny anything I said.
“I know all about your neighbor,” I spat, frowning at her. “Seems like a nice guy.” I increased the pressure I applied to her between her thighs, pushing my palm against her harder, feeling her clit through her leggings. The hand holding her neck loosened, though I did not release it entirely. “I would hate to see him lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding out as cars drove by, unaware he was dying. Wouldn’t you?”
Though I had the upper hand here, though Zoey had no leg to stand on in this conversation, she still managed to say, “Don’t threaten him—” Awfully protective of her neighbor, when she was supposed to be mine and mine alone.
Baring my teeth at her, I growled out, “You don’t get to tell me what to do. That honor is mine. You will not see Lake again—you will not invite him into your apartment ever again, do you understand?” I withdrew myself from her, walking back to my desk. “I’ll be having Carter watch over you on the days I don’t need him, just to make sure you’re behaving.” I shot her a glare. I had the feeling she’d be a wild one, and she was constantly proving me right.
Zoey sat quietly for a while, her eyes on fire as she watched me. Her cheeks were pink, my prior closeness to her having caused her body to react in a certain way. Suddenly she stood up, jerking to her feet as she held her hands on her hips, giving me the most attitude she could muster. She walked before me, her feet drawing her closer almost too insolently.
She stopped when she stood before me, her full, inviting lips turning down in a frown. “I wasn’t aware this was a master-slave scenario,” she said, glowering. The expression didn’t sit well on her face, but I let her have her time. Soon enough she would learn that I meant every single word I said; Roman Russo did not make needless threats. “Maybe you should’ve been clearer about that in the beginning. I’m not an object you can own.”
I waited until she was done, listened to her feisty words, feeling a smile start to creep along my face. There was a time and place for that, and here and now was not it. “Shall I fetch Carter and remind you that you belong to me in every way? The sooner you realize this, the more enjoyable it will be for you.”
Zoey said nothing, though she did jut out her chin as if daring me to bring Carter in here.
“You should know I am not above mixing pain with pleasure,” I spoke, stepping towards her, reaching for her face. She jerked away from me, and I knew right then and there I needed to get Carter.
Never breaking eye contact with her, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone, dialing Carter’s number. He picked up on the second ring; I knew he probably was waiting for me to call him, to tell him I needed him in here to help tame the girl.
“Come to my office,” I ordered, grinding my teeth as I gazed upon Zoey and her boldness. Being bold, being disobedient did not automatically make you s
trong. This was not a situation where traits like that were welcome; the sooner she realized she was mine, we could all move on from this.
I said nothing more, hanging up.
Zoey folded her arms across her chest, and I pushed off my desk, walking around to the door, the only way in or out of my office. She wouldn’t try to run; Zoey might play like she was courageous and resistant to me, but deep down, she wasn’t. It was all a show, a farce, a charade she put on… but for whose benefit? For her own, to prove to herself that she didn’t need a man in her life after her previous ex had fucked her over?
I was unlike her ex in every single way; I would never fuck her over—not unless she asked for it.
No, right now this was a battle of wills, and mine would emerge victorious. I would be the winner here, not Zoey.
Carter wasn’t far from the office, for within a minute, he strode inside, stopping as he stood beside me, his green eyes landing on Zoey. “Is something wrong?” he asked, an edge to his words I detected immediately.
“Yes,” I said. “Zoey here believes she can walk away from me, from you, from all of this.” I ran a hand down the front of my suit, tilting my head at her, watching how she watched me, trying to hide the emotion on her face. Poor Zoey was an open book; it wasn’t difficult to see how much she wanted to be put in her place.
The man beside me would happily oblige her.
Beside me, Carter chuckled darkly. “The only time anyone walks away from Roman,” he spoke to her, “is if he lets them. You won’t be so lucky.” Such finality to his words, such harsh truths, Zoey could do nothing but blink in response.
Oh, no. With how much I’d instantly wanted her, there would be no walking away from this, that much we all knew. This was not me following a flitting fancy; this was me greedily claiming what was mine. Zoey Marbella was mine, and she needed to open those pretty blue eyes and realize it.
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