Page 216 of Fallen Omega

I sweep up a bag.

And I turn.

I walk.

Out the door.

Chapter

Forty-Three

Lizette

“God fucking damn it, Angel.”

That’s the first thing I hear when the elevator doors ding open.

Dante’s breathing hard, there’s sweat on his brow and his suit is not made for running downstairs.

Good. I hope it’s ruined.

“Too late, Dante. Have a nice life.” I only have one bag. It has my important things in it and I try to push past him but he grabs me. I shake him off, stalk across the foyer, and head out the door.

“Fuck.” He races after me. “Where the absolute fuck do you think you’re going, Angel?” He nabs my arm and I shake him off.

He clearly lets me go but moves between me and the door.

My breath pushes hard at my throat as I struggle to get the anger, the hurt, in check. “Where do you think?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes narrow as he sneers. “To sell your fucking wares?”

I snarl and hit him.

Almost.

He catches my hand.

“Be very fucking careful, Angel.”

“Or what?” I glare. I want to pull free; I need to. But the sear of his fingers is too good, too right, to ignore. “You’ll beat me up?”

“I’ll tie you the fuck up and take out my nastiest whip and brand your ass so hard you’ll think about getting it tattooed.”

A jolt of desire shoots through me. “I hate you.”

And he smiles very slow, very dirty.

Another jolt hits me and he’s grasping my wrist, his thumb rubbing slowly over the sensitive spot that makes me want to moan.

“Oh, I know you fucking do,” he says, shifting closer, looking down at me.

No one’s in the foyer and even though I can see people passing through the glass paneled front door, I don’t think they can see in. And if they could, if this foyer teemed with people, I think he’d keep on doing whatever he wanted.

“And you want me. Too bad you belong to us.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

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