Page 18 of Capo

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale. I’m tired. It’s not my last contact, though. It’s Ivan.

“She came by taxi.” His eyes dart to a swaying, shuddering Chloe. Her body has been wracked by sobs the last hour. I’ve been meaning to punish her for it, but it turned out to be an even greater distraction, and my cock liked it. A lot.

“Where is it now?”

Ivan shakes his head.

“Someone saw it?”

“Yes, sir. It’s on camera.”

I look at the blond, Russian giant and nod. “Find him and deal with him. He’s the only one who can tell she came here and never came out.”

New sets of strange, hitching sobs from Chloe makes us both look over at her. Then her knees fold and she falls into a heap, wailing wordlessly. I nod for Ivan to leave and study her crumpled body as I cross the room. Grabbing her hair, I crouch before her and pull up her head until she looks at me. Her gaze is dark and filled with pain, her cheeks drenched in tears.

“Please—don’t kill him,” she gasps between hitching sobs. “He wasn’t more than twenty.”

“That’s none of your business. You should be more concerned for yourself.”

Her lower lip trembles. “Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you or… Christian.”

I smirk. “No, you won’t. Get over here.” I pull her to her feet by her hair.

She grabs my hand with her free hand and then doubles over with a gasp, letting go of me, clutching her ribs instead.

“Are you in pain?” I ask softly.

She nods as a whimper escapes her, a ray of hope crossing her features at my seemingly concerned tone.

“I like it,” I say, watching that tiny spark of hope die as I push her toward the couch. “Go sit.” She cries out but stumbles forward. Fuck me, I want to spread those firm ass cheeks and do her. I’m unapologetically hard. Pushing her down until she sits, I stand before her, my crotch level with her face. Tears stream endlessly along her cheeks, wetting her chest. I glance down at her heavy breasts, the skin glistening wet. Letting go of her hair, I reach out and put a hand under one breast, weighing it in my palm, brushing the pad of my thumb over her nipple, reveling in the feel as it turns into a hard peak.

She flinches but doesn’t try to escape me. Clearly, she has already learned there’s no use in trying.

My breathing quickens as I think of my frustration the other night. Can I?

I decide to dig deeper and find out everything there is to know about Miss Becker. Who is she? Where did she come from? Who will miss her?

“Please, don’t kill me, Mr. Salvatore. I’m so sorry I threatened you. I didn’t mean it. I was angry. I was stupid.”

Oh yes, she was stupid. She was also incredibly unlucky to have ever met Kerry Jackson. It sealed her fate long before any of us knew it. Crouching before her, I grab her chin. Her desolate gaze fixates on me, terrified. “You’ll live,” I say, suddenly knowing what I’ll do.

Relief floods her features. I crush it.

“But you’ll probably wish you hadn’t.”

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