Page 12 of Queen of Vice

"What do you want?" she asked, her grip tightening on her fork. I could tell she wanted nothing more than to stab me with it, and I wouldn't have minded seeing her try.

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

"Can't you just tell me?" She dropped the fork, causing me to chuckle at her frustration. We were going to have so much fun together.

"Let's get back on track," I said, trying to focus on the task at hand. My phone had been vibrating nonstop in my pocket since we sat down, so now wasn't the time to push her too far. There would be plenty of opportunities for that later.

"I assume this isn't about what kind of person my sister was," she said quietly.

I kept my expression neutral. Most people knew exactly what kind of person her sister was; it wasn't a secret.

The only one who seemed oblivious was Elena. But that wasn't what I was asking her, and she knew it. Trying to deflect or redirect wouldn't work with me. If she wanted to play games, she'd quickly learn that I always had the upper hand. I was always steps ahead. And most importantly, I always won.

“I know you’re naïve, Elena, but not to the extent that you have no idea what’s happening around you or what I could possibly mean.”

She scanned the diner, pausing on the elderly gentleman who was now peacefully asleep, thanks to Paula's spiked coffee. We couldn't afford any loose ends. "Do you really want to discuss this here?"

I tilted my head. "I thought you might feel more comfortable here than alone with me at my house. But we could always go to that other room I mentioned." Neither location would necessarily be safe for her, but for now, I needed to create a trap with sweet lies and half-truths. It would be for her own good.

"Right," she sighed. "I assumed this was about Eva, but I wasn't sure what your intentions were."

"There was never anything between your sister and me," I interjected quickly. She sounded resigned, which I didn't like. It wouldn't be far-fetched for her to think I only pursued her because of the disaster that was her twin. That wasn't entirely true. "My interest has always been in you, Elena."

"But why? Where did it come from if not from my sister?"

Ah, I had made a mistake. It didn't happen often, but it happened sometimes. I couldn't fix her self-esteem issues in a small-town diner, so I wasn't going to try. I knew it was something I would have to build back up after breaking it down, but I hadn't considered it during this conversation. “Elena, any man with eyes and half a brain would want you. Unlike me, they wouldn't have the slightest clue how to handle you once you were in their grasp."

"That's... quite an assumption," she replied slowly, her cheeks blossoming with a telltale flush. "But not everyone is interested in being possessed or handled. I'm not some prize to be won or a puzzle to be solved."

Her attempt at standing her ground was admirable, yet I could hear the slight tremble in her words, the unspoken emotions that danced just beneath the surface. It was clear my bold declaration had surprised her, stirring a blend of resistance and an undeniable spark of interest. A grin spread across my face as I absorbed her flustered response.

"Well, we don't have to worry about anyone else daring to try any of that, do we? You're going to be mine." Before she could muster a reply, I leaned closer, lowering my voice to ensure she understood the gravity of my next words. “The sooner you come to terms with what I'm telling you, the sooner I point you in the right direction to find your sister."

I could see the moment my words truly registered, the realization hitting hard. It was unspoken knowledge between very few that her sister wasn't present at her own funeral, but she should’ve expected me to have it. I knew everything that went on in my city, even the most decrepit corners of it. Her face was a picture of poorly masked shock. There was probably a flurry of questions racing through her pretty little head. It was a calculated revelation on my part, dropping just enough information to keep her tethered to me, to ensure she understood that I held the cards to the mystery she was so desperate to unravel.

Rising from the booth, I casually tossed a wad of cash onto the table. The amount was extravagant, enough to cover every meal on the menu a dozen times over. It was my way of paying for more than the service since Paula adamantly refused my money directly.

“Wait,” Elena demanded as she rushed to follow me.

The moment she stood, I moved, caging her between me and the booth. She tilted her head back and looked up at me, immediately realizing her error. I contemplated turning her around and bending her over the table. Unfortunately, that too would have to wait until another time. Her pouty lips parted, and she began to question me again, but I cut her off before she could finish.

I brought one hand to the back of her head and weaved my fingers into her hair to keep her still. “Don't say anything just yet," I advised, my tone softening ever so slightly. "Take your time. It's important that you make the right decision because once you do, there’s no going back.”

In reality, the choice had already been made. The paths before her, seemingly diverse, all led to the same inevitable destination. A carefully constructed maze with one with a predetermined end. Patience, in this instance, was a virtue I could afford.

It wouldn’t hurt me any to wait a little longer, let her grapple with the illusion of choice. The implication I’d made was clear. If she wanted to find her sister, she'd be doing it only after she agreed to be everything that I demanded of her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ELENA

Things were worse than I thought.

On top of my father’s legacy being beyond repair, Eva was still missing, and I had as many answers about her whereabouts as the day I found our aunt brutally murdered.

None.

I didn’t know what to do. With each passing day, I became more frustrated and disheartened. I’d spent the past two weeks enduring the company of my uncle and his lingering, sick fucking stares. When I realized he wasn't going to be forthcoming with any information he may have, I tried to be tolerant of him for my grandmother’s sake. His phony display of grief for Eva, and the sudden affection he developed seemingly overnight concerning me, was nauseating. My sister had told me herself, multiple times, that she couldn’t stand him on the few occasions they'd crossed paths.

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