Page 69 of The Devil's Deal

Rushing back into the kitchen, I start on lunch, taking out the steak she had in the fridge and slicing it on one of the cutting boards she had out. Hopefully, I can manage without burning anything.

I figure if Brian and I share an intimate meal or two together, he’ll warm up to me. There’s this strong carnal connection between us, and I need to light the fire. I need to lead him into the flames.

Placing the seasoned chopped potatoes into a pan, I turn on the oven before putting them inside. After they’re halfway done, I proceed to fry up some chopped-up steak and cut the tomatoes and cucumbers while it’s cooking. Before I have a chance to finish, a heavy crash of footsteps comes nearer.

“Sonia, I’ll be—” Brian’s voice cuts off when his confused expression lands on me.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, irritation marking his words. “Where’s Sonia?”

I grin through his unhappiness. “I sent her home. I wanted to cook us a meal as a thank-you for not killing me yet.”

I turn off the stove, noticing the steak is already too black to be edible.

Why did I even bother? I don’t know how to cook at all.

His jaw flexes as he pins me with an angry stare.

“Did I tell you to do that?” His tone splashes with frustration as he takes a single menacing step closer. “Did I ask you to send my staff home? Who the fuck do you think you are? This isn’t a hotel or your home.”

His body is closer now, and with a single step, he’s in front of me. He grips my chin in between two fingers and lifts my face up to the fiery pits of hell within his gaze.

“You’re nothing more than a helpless little girl I’m using to get what I need. So stop getting comfortable where you don’t belong.”

The back of my nose burns from the cruelty. And as his eyes continue to hold mine, I feel the ache of the tears filling my gaze.

Of course this was a stupid plan. Why did I think this man would ever like me enough to want me? He hates me as much as he hates my father. That much is clear now.

I grit my teeth, my rage-filled gaze sharper than the knife I was just using. “Fuck you, Brian. I’m so damn sorry for trying to make this tolerable for the both of us. I’m so fucking sorry eating a meal I made is so inconceivable to you.”

He peers down blankly at me now, his Adam’s apple vibrating as he swallows, his eyes never leaving mine. We are at a stalemate, both of us hotheaded and refusing to give in.

“You’re going to make some poor woman miserable one day,” I throw in. “I feel sorry for her already.”

Gripping his wrist, I pull it away from my face, marching away from him to the other side of the counter. Lifting up a knife, I start unevenly slicing up cucumbers, taking out the anger on them instead.

“Easy there before you chop off your finger.”

My hand goes still and my eyes slowly crawl up to his. Picking up a piece of cucumber, I throw it at his face, but he instantly catches it and pops it into his mouth as he smiles cruelly.

I grunt with disappointment, gritting my teeth harder, my jaw rattling with the force. I hate him so much. I can’t believe I ever wanted to fuck him.

“You’re so lucky that didn’t end up on my work shirt, Chiara.”

“Oh, yeah?” I snicker. “And what in the world would you have done if it did?”

He rushes around the counter so fast, his front pressing into my back with the knife still in my hand. I could flip it and cut him in an instant.

“Whatever you’re thinking with that thing in your hand, I suggest you stop. Now.” He leans his body over mine, pushing me into the counter, my body falling over it, the knife close to my chest. “I wouldn’t want to dirty up my kitchen with your blood.”

“You’re not as scary as you think you are,” I bite back with a hiss.

He fists my hair, pulling my head back so hard that I wince from the pain, laughing viciously despite the ache.

His eyes land on mine.

Cold.

Brutal.

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