“I’m not kidding, Giada, I’m not above chaining you to my bed. I’m sure I could find a chain that would reach the bathroom.”
I twisted around, horrified.
He stood there, grinning, his handsome face at odds with the warped things he was casually saying.
“I’d kill you the first chance I got,” I warned him.
He nodded. “And I suppose you’d have a right to, but you wouldn’t get the chance. I’m always watching you, wee one. Honestly, I can’t look away.”
His gaze was fixed on mine, and I had no answer for that statement.
He put the showerhead back on the wall and stepped back. “Take your time, finish up. I’ll be back to check on you later,” he said before stepping out of the shower.
I stared after him, his words slowly registering.
“Wait! Where are you going without me?”
The asshole locked me in.Once I’d gotten out of the shower and found a towel to dry off with, he was long gone, and the apartment door was firmly locked.
That arrogant prick thought I was going to sit around and wait for him to come home and let me out for walkies when he felt like it?
He had another think coming.
First, I hunted for my phone. That was nowhere to be seen, obviously. Okay, so that had been a long shot. More surprisingly, he’d also removed any trace of tech from the entire apartment. That was more annoying. Being underestimated was my superpower.
Next, I went to work on the door. I dressed in the smallest clothes I could find in his dresser. The man was a giant. His jogging pants pooled around my ankles like a clown costume. I rolled the hems and pushed up the sleeves of the plaid shirt I’d chosen and got to work on the door. Despite it appearing ancient, the lock was decent.
After a few minutes of fiddling, the lock rolled back, and I turned the knob.
“Top of the morning to you,” Declan said cheerfully from the chair he sat in outside the front door.
I glared at him.
“Were you needing something?” he asked.
“Yeah, a gun would be nice,” I said sweetly. “But I’d settle for using your cell phone for five minutes.”
Declan chuckled. “Nice try. The answer is obviously no.”
“I’m not going to call anyone. I only want to beat my score on Candy Crush,” I pressed.
He laughed.
Nodding, he grinned at me. “I can see why the boss likes you, Santori. Sorry, my bad, it’s O’Connor now, isn’t it?”
“No! It isn’t,” I hissed and slammed the door.
Okay, stay calm. That left Plan C. I went to the windows and looked out. The street was busy. Kids played with a ball in the middle of the street, and the sidewalks bustled with the good people of Hell’s Kitchen going about their days.
I banged on the window. I was two floors up. Some people glanced my way but didn’t stop to wonder why a woman was pounding on the window of the apartment over the pub. I tried to open it, but it didn’t budge. Next, I picked up the stiletto heel I’d been wearing last night and shoved the point at the glass. It bounced off without a mark. Just as I’d suspected when I was banging on it, the window was reinforced glass. It wouldn’t be easy or quiet to break. The biggest waste of time would be smashing the difficult glass and shimmying down a frosty drainpipe only for Declan to be waiting at the bottom.
This was karma, I thought dully, sinking to the floor next to the window. My very own sister-in-law, Charlie, had been in this situation only weeks ago, and I’d helped Renato get her down the aisle. I’d had this coming. Charlie would never have helped a mob boss keep me captive. She was a better person than me by a mile. Usually, karma missed the real bad guys, so maybe this was just the universe correcting itself for once.
Sitting on the floor, I shivered. A chilly current of air blew around my ankles. It was damn cold, too, like there was a window open.
A window open?
I shifted to my knees and crawled toward the draft. Where was it coming from?