by Julia Sykes
Cristian decided to show a shred of mercy, and he lifted the knife from her lips. She gasped in a quick breath before the blade returned to her throat.
“You were in my territory today, watching my people,” he drawled. “One of my men followed you home. Who are you working for?” The last held a harsh ring of command.
“I’m FBI,” she whispered.
Fuck. We’d abducted a fed? If she was telling the truth, we’d just made a grave mistake. It was one thing to protect our product from rivals. Provoking the feds was stupid and reckless.
Cristian frowned. “A sniper made an attempt on my life a few days ago. The feds wouldn’t assassinate me. Who are you really working for?”
He increased the pressure of the knife, and a drop of crimson beaded on her throat.
“I really am FBI,” she said in a rush. “My name is Samantha Browning. I’m a tech analyst. Well, I was. I’m a field agent now. I’m not trying to kill you. We’re investigating you. You have to know you’re on our radar. Please, I swear I’m FBI.” She was babbling, fear making the truth spill from her lips.
She might be a very accomplished liar, but I doubted it. I could practically feel the terror pulsing off her, could see the fine tremors that wracked her slender body.
Cristian studied her for a moment, considering. “You’re a tech analyst?” he said slowly, mulling over the information. “That means you have access to all the evidence the feds have on me. If you’re telling the truth about who you are.”
“I am,” she said quickly. “You can’t hurt me. If you do, my friends will come after you.”
She was right. If we cut her up and dumped her body, there would be hell to pay. Sending the video I’d been recording was out of the question. I turned off my camera and slipped my phone into my pocket. I’d delete the footage later.
“I think I’ll give you to my brother, after all,” Cristian mused. “He’ll make sure you’re telling the truth. I’d rather not mutilate you, if you’re going to be useful to me. Andrés has more creative ways of breaking women. And I’ll keep our little video to ourselves. If you are who you say you are, I’d rather your friends at the FBI don’t know I have you.”
I didn’t have time to draw a relieved breath before he touched the tip of the knife below her left eye. Another drop of blood beaded on her pale skin.
“Maybe I’ll give you a scar to match my brother’s first,” he said. I knew he was taunting me now, but I couldn’t hold back a growl. If he truly did intend to give her to me, I wouldn’t allow him to carve her up.
A sharp, amused grin lit Cristian’s features. “Apparently, he wants you mostly intact. Should I give him what he wants?”
I growled again, a wordless warning. Now that she was mine, I couldn’t bear to watch him touching her, tormenting her. I’d barely been able to remain detached when he’d first threatened her with his knife. Now that he was dangling her in front of me like a toy he could take away, it was all I could do to keep myself from attacking him.
But that would only make things worse for her and for me.
“Not the face, then,” Cristian declared. “But I think I’ll let Andrés see what he’s getting to work with.”
The knife left her cheek, and he hooked the blade beneath the top button of her shirt. I clenched my teeth and swallowed a snarl. He was going to bare her. And while I wanted to look at her, I hated watching him strip her for me.
Tears finally spilled down her cheeks, but she stopped struggling. Her eyes clouded over, her lashes fluttering. She was barely breathing, and I knew she was on the verge of passing out.
Cristian’s fingers tightened in her hair, denying her the release of unconsciousness. “Stay with us, Samantha,” he chided.
Her eyes focused on him again, and more tears glistened on her cheeks.
Cristian finally cut her. He grazed a crimson line across her collarbone, the cut shallow but painful as the metal grated against bone. Her scream ripped into me.
I wanted her screams for myself. I wanted her tears.
But not like this. Not with blood. And not with Cristian.
He hooked the blade through the little strip of cotton that connected the cups of her innocent white bra, parting the fabric and exposing her.
Her scream choked off on a sob. She was terrified, humiliated.
“What do you think, hermanito?” he asked me. “Is she pretty enough for you? She’s not a great beauty, but her nipples stand out nicely against her pale skin.”
My gaze locked on her dusky pink nipples. They were peaked from the coolness of the knife on her flesh. Just as Cristian said, they were pretty and perfect against her alabaster skin.
She began to shake violently, the cold of the blade sinking deep into her bones as she started going into shock.
“And her eyes are quite lovely,” Cristian continued in detached observation. “So much fear there. You like when they’re frightened, don’t you, Andrés?”
My only answer was a low grunt. I didn’t want to admit it aloud. I didn’t want him to hear the eager rasp in my voice. He really was going to give her to me. He’d hurt her, but I’d patch her up and take care of her. She probably wouldn’t see it that way, but she’d come around, once I trained her.
Cristian’s knife finally left her skin to slice through the ropes that bound her wrists. She slumped forward, and I immediately closed the distance between us to catch her before she slid to the floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cristian’s smirk. He knew he’d just given me a gift, and he also knew he could take it away at any time.
I did my best to school my features to a blank mask so he couldn’t see how badly I wanted to get her away from him. No one should see her bare body but me from now on. He might not find her beautiful, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t touch her just to taunt me.
I lifted her slight frame up and cradled her against my chest, holding her fragile body with care. For a moment, her sky blue eyes caught mine. Then they rolled back in her head, and she went limp in my arms as her terror finally overwhelmed her.
My gut clenched. She was as frightened of me as she was of Cristian’s knife.
“You’re welcome,” Cristian drawled. “It’s been a while since you had a plaything, hasn’t it? If you’d just make use of our whores, you wouldn’t be so needy.”
I ground my teeth together, saying nothing. Those women were kept drugged to make them compliant. It made me sick. I might have my own deviant perversions, but I’d never raped a woman. I wouldn’t.
Cristian sighed, disappointed that I hadn’t risen to his bait. “Make sure she’s telling the truth about being a fed,” he ordered. “Then I’ll decide what to do with her. Until then, she’s yours.”
Mine. I pulled her tighter against my chest. Cristian smirked again. I turned sharply and strode toward the elevator that would take me up to my penthouse, carrying my precious prize with me.
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Also by Julia Sykes
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Hero (An Impossible Novel)
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Christmas Knight (An Impossible Series Christmas Special)
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> The Subversive Series
Dark Lessons
Sweet Captivity
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The RENEGADE Series
TARGET
SPY
SUBJECT
ASSASSIN
AGENT
The Dark Grove Plantation Series
Holden
Brandon
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