Page 11 of Syndicate of Sin Bundle

“Do you want his debt to me to be gone?” I asked into her ear. “Do you want safety at all hours of the day? Money you can spend freely? Vacations you’ve only ever dreamed of?”

She paused for a moment, glanced down at the mere centimeters of space between us, and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be in debt,” she said, voice unusually broken and defeated. Those scared-voiced words sounded so foreign on her fiery tongue.

“You come with me willingly,” I said, knowing that it wouldn’t be something she could pass up.

What woman wouldn’t want to be millions of dollars richer, protected by the cruelest mob boss in all of Manhattan, and have to beg to leave his bed?

She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering from me to the door. She shifted uncomfortably beneath me, thighs grinding together, as if her sweet little cunt was just aching for me to press myself into her harder. To make every inch of her mine.

I waited. For moments. For minutes. For what seemed like an eternity.

She drew her tongue across her plum–painted lips. “No.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, brow arched. Did I hear her right? Did she tell me no? “No?”

Roxie shook her head of half-blonde, half-brunette dyed hair. “No, I’m not going with you. Especially not willingly.” She pushed her shoulders back and sneered at me, challenging the man who ruled the city and everyone in it. “You’d have to throw me in the back of your car, kidnap me, and kill Ben to ever have me.”

My hands balled into fists at the sound of no. I always got what I wanted, when I wanted it, where I wanted it. Nobody ever dared to say no to me with such confidence like she had. Nobody ever dared to look me straight in the eyes when they said it too. Nobody ever dared to challenge me the way she had.

People and business deals fell into my lap willingly.

After a couple of moments of staring me in the eye with her wavering gaze, she tore herself away and took a step to the right, turning around to face the other way. “No, Cristian.”

I stepped behind her, placed my hands on her shoulders, and squeezed gently. “Are you telling me or asking me, principessa? Are those your terms and conditions for me to have you in my bed, on my desk, wherever the fuck I want you?”

She shuddered and leaned a centimeter toward me, into my touch. Then, she ripped herself away from me again, twirled around, and glared up at me under those mascara-dressed lashes. “Get your hands off me, Cristian,” she said through clenched teeth. Her cheeks were flushed, nipples hard against her shirt.

She loved this. She fucking loved this.

If she didn’t, she would’ve stormed out of here by now.

I wrapped my hand around her small throat and shoved her hard against the desk. “Don’t fucking talk back to me, Roxie. I always get what I want, and I want you. If I have to kill your little stronzo fiancé to take you, then I will. But … if it comes to that, you’re dealing with his debt to me on your own terms. I will own you, principessa, for real this time.”

She swallowed hard and stared up at me, vein pulsing wildly against my palm. “You’re fucking crazy,” she said through her pouty, full lips. “Why do you even fucking want me? Is it because you’ve never found a woman who doesn’t want you? Am I a challenge to you? A piece of trash you’re going to throw out when you’re done?”

Gaining confidence, she pursed her lips. “Huh? Why bother with this at all? You don’t even know me, Cristian Ricci.”

I stared down at her, jaw twitching. She really didn’t know, did she?

Pulling her closer to me, I pressed my lips to her ear. “Tell me why you’re still here if you don’t want to be. Tell me why your cunt is wet, why you’re pressing your thighs together, why you’re giving those big brown fuck-me eyes, making me want to put you in your fucking place.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from me, shaking her head. “I’m not,” she said after some time, her voice softer this time. “This is a mistake.” She clutched her purse. “The bank made a mistake. Ben made a mistake. I made a mistake coming here.” She swallowed hard. “Ben loves me.”

A mistake.

This wasn’t a mistake.

The only mistake she could make was walking out of my office and into Ben’s arms.

“Does he love you, or does he need someone to make him feel like a man, like he’s wanted by someone he would’ve never had a chance with if she knew how bad his problem was?” I asked, tapping my index finger against the desk. When she didn’t answer me, I leaned in close to her again, taunting myself this time. “Answer me.”

She paused for a few moments and looked toward the window blinds. “And you think you can be that man?” she asked, brow arched. She blew a harsh breath out of her nose. “Highly unlikely.”

I rested my hands on the desk beside her, trapping her in, and growled in her ear, “Something that you don’t understand, principessa, is that I don’t need anyone to feel like a man.” I pressed myself against her thigh, letting her feel just how hard I was under my suit pants from her bratty mouth. “I’d give you everything you could ever ask for, take you to places you’d have to work hours upon hours to go to, only to find out that your loving fiancé gambled away all your savings. I could give you a life you’ve only ever dreamed of.”

8

roxie

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