Page 75 of Dark Romeo

“Does anyone know you’re here?”

“Yes,” I lied.

“Liar,” he said, his face and voice hard as stone. “You’re here alone without a weapon or backup with a known criminal.”

“You’re not a?—”

“I’m a Tyrell. Don’t forget that.”

“That doesn’t mean?—”

“I could fuck you against this door then gut you like a fish and nobody would ever find your body. These walls are soundproof.”

“You…wouldn’t.” My Roman wouldn’t hurt me. Right?

He’s not your Roman, stupid!

His nostrils flared. “Some women want me because the danger turns them on. You are one of those women, aren’t you, Jules?”

“I’m not,” I protested weakly.

His gaze dragged lazily across my breasts. If I wasn’t so busy holding on to the door, I’d have covered my chest with my hands. “Didn’t you come here to walk on the wild side? To relive our night together?”

“No.”

His eyes snapped to mine before narrowing. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Tell me what really happened that night.”

He shook his head slightly. The motion made the strands of his hair fall over his forehead. I wanted to brush them out of the way, to touch his soft hair. “I already made a statement.”

“I don’t want your statement. I want you to tell me.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t be this near to him and not touch him. I lifted my hand towards his face.

He grabbed my wrist before I could reach his cheek. “You need to stay away from me. Do you hear me?”

I wasn’t sure I could. “I can help you. You just need to trust me.”

“You can’t help me. No one can.”

“Please…” I begged, although I had stopped knowing what I was begging for. His proximity and his smell and his heat, all of it were drawing me in like a moth to an open flame.

Something banged behind me and we both jumped.

“Roman!” A deep male voice came muffled through the door. “Open the hell up. It’s Abel.”

My blood turned to ice at the name. Abel “The Butcher” Montero was Giovanni Tyrell’s right-hand man, linked to over two dozen murders, a convicted rapist and ex-surgeon so he knew how to wield a knife. I found his thick file amongst our list of Tyrell’s known associates and recognized him as Scarface from the cemetery. There had been something in Abel’s eyes that chilled me to the bone as I stared at his grainy black and white arrest photo; they were dead. No soul left.

Now, I was trapped in Roman’s apartment without a weapon, a violent man on the other side of the door. The only thing between us was Roman Tyrell. He was my only hope of getting out of here unharmed.

I watched as an emotion flashed across Roman’s face too quick for me to discern what it was. He was a Tyrell. On their side, not mine. Once he opened the door, who knew what Abel and Roman would do to me. His earlier bluff to rape me, kill me and make my body disappear flashed through my mind.

I was so screwed.

JULIANNA

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In all my nightmares of how my life would end, I never expected it would end like this. Trapped in the apartment of my mortal enemy, an apartment I walked myself into. Weaponless. And wearing a stupid red dress.

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