Page 172 of My Sweetest Temptation

“Is that a threat?” I questioned.

“I don’t make threats,” he replied, his voice smooth yet chilling. “I make promises. Remember that.”

“Why are you doing this, Nico?” I asked, each word heavier than the last. “I thought you loved me.”

Nico remained silent, and I felt my heart shatter with each passing moment.

Enzo stepped inside the room and wrapped his hand around my arm. “Let’s go, Winter,” he commanded.

I stood, rigid with terror, too overwhelmed to move. “Wh-what are you doing to do to me?” The question slipped out, laced with desperation. A reflection of the twisted scenarios he might be planning played out in my mind.

Nico didn’t respond verbally, but his cold gaze was like a silent accusation. “What do you think happens in the basement?” His eyes glinted with cruel amusement, as if my fear was a game to him.

“You bastard. Go to hell," I said, my voice wavering slightly despite my attempt to sound firm and in control.

Anger replaced my fear as I watched him walk away with a cold expression.

"Where do you think I came from?"

The air was thick with an unsettling tension as Luca and Lo silently escorted me down the staircase into Nico's basement. They steered me into the center of the cold room, and my heart pounded against my ribcage like a frantic bird trying to escape. Luca secured me to a sturdy chair with ropes that bit into my skin.

My gaze was drawn to the drain directly beneath me, its purpose all too clear. A chill slithered down my spine. This was no ordinary basement; it was a pit designed for something sinister.

“I don't know why this is happening,” I managed to croak out.

Luca and Lo exchanged glances, their silence echoing louder than any words could convey. I pressed my lips together, desperately searching their eyes for some hint of understanding, some flicker of compassion. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”

Nico, the man I loved, was treating me like I was some criminal in his world, like I was one of the bad guys he hunted down without mercy.

Still, they remained mute, their expressions hardened. I struggled against the ropes, my breath quickening, panic clawing at my throat.

With every second that ticked by, the truth sank in deeper that I was utterly alone, trapped in a nightmare crafted by the man I had let into my heart.

“It’s been three hours, Nico,” Matteo reminded me for what felt like the hundredth time since Luca and Lo dragged Winter down to the basement.

“How much longer are you going to make her sweat?” he pressed. “She’s been sitting on that hard-ass chair without food or water, for God’s sake.”

I continued dancing my fingers over the piano’s keys, playing “The Sound of Silence.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve let our prisoners wait it out,” I responded dryly, but inside, I was a storm of emotions—fear, guilt, and doubt crashing against each other.

“Jesus, Nico. She’s not one of your regulars,” Matteo shot back. “I’m all for having a conversation and asking questions, but this? This is torture. She hasn’t earned that.”

I bit back, my patience fraying, “She didn’t deny anything, did she?”

Matteo countered, his frustration evident, “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment. You can’t just bully the truth out of her.”

I wanted to believe what Matteo was saying, but doubt was a fickle bitch.

The door opened after a knock. “Boss?” Enzo called out.

“Yes,” I replied, my gaze still fixated on the keys, as if they held the answers I was searching for.

“Winter, I mean Gigi, is asking to use the bathroom.”

I stopped playing, my fingers stilling over the keys. I rested my arms on top of the piano, gripping it tightly, and leaned my forehead against it, releasing a shaky breath.

Fuck. The thought of hurting her and most likely causing her death was something I didn’t think I could live through. That girl walked into hell and pulled me out with just one smile. One look. One kiss. One touch. But the monster in me was hungry and wanted to come out and play. Who was I to deny him his desire for blood?

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