Page 12 of The Mob Boss' Pet

Chapter Five

Stephania

The windows aren’t locked in this room, but looking down to the ground, I groan. It’s a straight jump. No bushes below or trees to climb down, just a free fall at least fifteen feet. I could break a leg, or an arm. If it’s just my arm, I can still run. But if it’s my leg? I’ll be caught, and I doubt he forgives escape easily.

“One of Roberto’s friends jumped from that window when we were in high school. Broke his leg in two places and fractured his collarbone.” Vincenzo’s deep voice invades my solitude.

I turn from the window, leaving it open. “Why would a friend feel the need to throw himself from the window?” I ask. He’s changed his clothes. Instead of the tailored business suit, he’s in a black button-down shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of jeans. A thick black leather belt wraps around his waist. He’s rolled his sleeves up to his elbow. It’s harder to keep my nerves from fraying with him dressed so casually.

“They were playing some stupid game, and he didn’t want to get caught,” he shrugs. “I guess he thought the jump wasn’t so high.” He leans toward me. “But it is.”

I shove my hands into the pockets of my scrub pants.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I only wanted some fresh air,” I say.

He steps closer to me, near the bed. “You’re not a very good liar, Stephania,” he says with a knowing frown.

“I haven’t had much practice.” A truth that isn’t helping me in my current situation. “But I bet it’s one of your best skills.”

Sarcasm, however, is a skill I have sharpened over the years.

“Roberto’s been awake for a while now. We gave him something for the pain, but I want you to check him out and change the bandages.” He holds out his arm toward me, like I’m going to take his hand and skip down the hall with him.

“I’ll check in on him, change his bandages, and even call in a script for an antibiotic, but then you’re going to let me go.” I ball up my hands, pressing my fingernails into my palms. The little bite of pain keeps my mind focused, keeps me from falling to pieces. Because as Vincenzo’s lips press tightly together and his eyes darken, panic starts to rise in my chest. He’s not a man who takes orders. This man gives them, and he expects them to be followed.

He makes his way to me, keeping his steadfast gaze locked on me. When he’s close enough, he grabs my face in his hands, pressing my cheeks inward. I dig my nails in deeper.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I give you orders, not the other way around. You do what you’re told. You’re not leaving here, Stephania, until I’m done with you.” He gets closer to me; his nose brushes lightly against the tip of mine. “And I’m not done with you.”

I swallow back a groan when his fingers tighten into my cheeks.

“Have I made myself clear?” he asks, his voice lower.

I hate this. I’m innocent. I didn’t do anything wrong, but I’m being held captive by this man who could easily snap my neck and whistle Dixie at the same time.

“Yes,” I say as best I can through my squished cheeks. He lowers his head, turning until his ear is near my lips.

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