Page 57 of Bound in Promise
Obviously.
“Who is Weston?” I ask, forcing a quaver into my voice and trying to convince Angelo of my fear. Really, I want any information I might be able to turn to my advantage. If this guy isn’t a part of the mob, he may not be used to killing. And if that’s the case, he hopefully won’t be armed when he comes for me.
“A senator. A very powerful one.”
I’m feeling better by the second, stupid as my relief may be.
“When do I leave?” I begin twisting my fingers, not bothering to disguise the movement. The nervous fidget will help paint the picture of a helpless damsel.
“Tomorrow.”
Perfect.
“Can I see Dante?—”
“No.”
“Before I leave,” I finish stubbornly. “I want to say goodbye?—”
“No,” Angelo snarls, taking a step closer. “You’re done with him. Moretti doesn’t deserve a goodbye.” A wicked gleam lights in his eye and his face twists with sick glee. “I’m here because I want to tell that son of a bitch I fucked you to kingdom come while you screamed his name. That I made you bleed—” I jolt backwards, scrambling to the other side of the bed to restore the distance between us.
That asshole does not get to touch me.
I’m done with these fucking entitled men wanting to use me for their own pleasure. For petty revenge. That shit started and ended with Liam.
Angelo’s laugh cuts through my angry thoughts. “Where are you going? The only escape is the window…”
My eyes dart back and forth, desperately seeking anything that could become a weapon.
The lamp.
I rip the damn thing from the wall, plug and all, and the cord whips around and hits me in the thigh. My mind barely registers the sting as I shift my hands to clutch the base like a batter at home plate.
“Now, now, now,” he taunts. “Don’t fret. We can do this the easy way. I’m sure even a lie would?—”
“Go ahead, come closer,” I dare. “I’d love to shove this up your ass.”
He frowns. “You really want to threaten me, little girl? I will beat you until your skin is stained red and you’re crying for mercy.”
God, if only he would shut up.
My thoughts are racing a million miles an hour, trying to find a way out of this hellhole. Trying to decide what I can do in the next minute, the next second, to enable my escape.
Even if I knock Angelo out, I know I won’t be able to get through the door without being seen. The prick always has at least one guard shadowing him. His backup is probably waiting in the hall.
But there is a window.
An idea starts to form, and I make the decision to commit before I can think too hard about everything that could go wrong.
My best chance lies in acting my ass off.
Blindly, I back towards the exterior wall, the window just visible in my peripheral. It’s dark outside, making it hard to see what waits on the other side of the glass. Is there a tree? Is it just sheer brick? Are there pavers or bushes directly below?
Does any of that even matter? Seriously, what other option do I have?
“Bella, darling,” he calls, his voice syrupy and slimy at the same time as he moves closer. “Let’s not start the night off badly.”
What does he think happened when he appeared at our home and took my husband and I hostage? What about what happened downstairs when he let his fucking friends grope me before bidding on me? When he made it clear that Dante and I would be separated?
