Page 115 of Filthy Little Games

The blow of what I think is a wrench to his forehead barely slows him down as he grabs a handful of my hair and slams my face into the sharp corner of the workbench.

Every muscle in my body goes slack, dropping me to my knees. The entire room is edged in darkness as I fight to keep my eyes open. I blink to try to clear my murky vision with no luck.

I hear muffled voices coming from the hallway, and assume they’re more of Emilio’s men he called for backup.

“Guess we’ll see if he loves you or not,” it sounds like Emiliosays with a jerk on my hair, pulling me to my feet. I try to swallow, but there’s something pressed against my throat.

It’s like a bad case of déjà vu — the night Izaiah died.

That’s when I realize Emilio must be out of time, and he’s hedging his bets because Creed and his men are here. I just hope they get Oriana out safely, without any of Emilio’s idiots hurting her.

“Stupid fool,” I slur. “Creed would rather kill you than save me.”

“Let’s find out,” he pants next to my ear. “I think he cares for you more than he wants my death.”

“You’re wrong. I can’t wait to see you in hell when you find out.”

“Why else would Creed Ferraro marry you? Why would he risk his life to kidnap Oriana and let you both stay with him if he wasn’t in love with you? He’d never do that for any amount of money, not that you had any to pay him. And he certainly wouldn’t do that for a cheapputtanahe could fuck for free.”

We don’t have to stand there long before I see a blur of men in dark clothes, dark hair. I think it’s Creed, but can’t be sure until he says, “Like father like son, you brought a knife to a gunfight.”

God, I missed his growly threatening voice. And I have no doubt he’s holding a gun, but it’s all blurring together.

“Is Oriana safe?” I ask him.

“She’s safe. The nannies too.”

“Thank you,” I whisper in relief. Whatever else happens, at least my daughter is going to be okay.

Creed wouldn’t actually be willing to trade himself for me, would he? Does he honestly think Emilio will just let me walk away from him with a few broken bones and a giant scar of Izaiah’s name? No, I’d rather die by Emilio’s knife than ever have him inside me again.

“You and your men better let us leave, Ferraro, or I’ll slice open her throat.”

“No, you won’t,” Creed asserts.

“Before you can kill me, I’ll take her life! Or you can put your guns down and let us both leave here alive. I won’t give you the choice again.”

“You were Zara’s first, weren’t you?” Creed asks, making me wonder if I’m hallucinating. “When you brought her to the city?”

Emilio must be as surprised as I am by the random remark, since his knife presses even harder against the thin flesh of my throat.

“What about it? I put her up in a beautiful apartment, helped her get modeling gigs she was so desperate for, and gave her anything she wanted for years. She thanked me so hard for it all and thanked me often.”

“I hated you every fucking second, and you knew it!” I tell him. “Do not let him leave here alive, Creed.”

“But youneverdenied me, did you? Such an obedient girl, a loyal daughter to parents who sold her off to save their dreams while she chased her own in the city.”

My husband just stares at us, at me, and I can’t tell for sure what he’s thinking, what his plan is here.

Emilio’s mouth is right against my ear when he says, “A sweet, innocent girl from Pearl River. I’m guessing you haven’t met Samuel and Rita Riley, Zara’s parents yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” Creed grits out.

“Nice couple. They run the Main Street Brewing Company in Pearl River thanks to my generous investment.”

“I don’t give a shit about her worthless parents. I know that you care about Zara,” Creed says. “That’s why you haven’t killed her, isn’t it? You wanted your daughter’s mother to suffer, but you were never going to give her up, not even to death. And you’re angry that she prefers me, that she married me, the man who killed your oldest son because he killed my brother!”

“I knew it was you!” Emilio bellows.

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