Page 25 of Surprise Pregnancy for Villain

“You might as well take that mask off, dick, or explain why I’m here, at least.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” I growl. “You’re going to quit trying to escape and be a good girl.”

“A good girl,” I laugh. “I find it hard to believe that you know who I am.”

With my free hand, I rip the mask off, lashing her with a firm stare. “I know enough to tell you this. You’re not getting out of here any time soon.”

Nicki gapes at me, then sucks in a breath.

Good. She finally gets it—

“Somebody help me! He’s going to kill me!” she wails. “He’s going to kill me—somebody help!”

“Shut up!” I yell. “I most certainly am not going to kill you, and no one can hear you anyway—nowcalm the fuck down!”

Her face is just inches from mine as I lay on top of her, so close. Too close. I pull back as tears stream from her eyes, tracking gray streaks of mascara across her cheeks. She has chunks of scrambled egg in her hair from the scattered food on the floor. This is not at all how I wanted things to go.

“Do you always attack people who bring you breakfast?” I ask.

Panting for breath, she finally ceases her struggle and meets my gaze, her beautiful eyes wet and glistening as they peer into mine. “I attack assholes who kidnap me,thenbring me breakfast. I don’t need your food. The only thing I want is to for you to get off me and let me out of here.”

“I can’t do that,” I reply, shifting my body weight and loosening my grip somewhat. “But I’ll let you up if you behave.”

She stares back at me for a moment, then exhales a reluctant breath. “Fine. Alright. Just get off me.”

Carefully, I ease off her petite body and let go of her arms. She scrambles to her feet that are now unfettered—why am I not surprised? — and stumbles backward onto the bed, stepping on chunks of egg along the way. I pick up the dropped plate that still has a pancake and a few strips of bacon on it. As I set it on the nightstand, I notice the missing drawer and glance back at the broken slats of wood on the carpet. My head is already throbbing where she nailed me. “You hit me with furniture?”

“My aim is better with a gun,” she says. “But I had to improvise.”

I admire her fiery spirit. My father wouldn’t. Neither would those disgusting men who leered over her photo during the meeting. They wouldn’t even mind her putting up a fight; it would heighten the excitement. If only she knows how lucky she is that she’s got me instead of them.

“Just let me go, Ezio,” she pleads.

“I already told you. Not an option.”

“Then tell me what it is you want.” Her dewy eyes flash a searing plea, which tugs at my heartstrings. I force myself to look away. What I want will create more problems that what we’re facing now.

“The police are looking for you, and when they find you, the consequences will be nothing compared to what my father will do to you.”

I almost laugh at her empty threat. The cops are the least of our worries. She ought to know they’ve been in the pockets of the mob since the first boats arrived from Italy. “Who I am is no secret,” I reply. “All you need to know is that it’s better for you if you stay here, for your own safety.”

“My safety?” she splutters. “I’ve been drugged, kidnapped, tied up, abandoned, left without food or water. How is that for my safety?”

“If it’s food you want, it’s right under your nose,” I say, pointing to the half-empty plate. “I’ll get you water, and much more, if you just cooperate.”

“Cooperate,” she scoffs. “I’d rather die than cooperate with a piece of Rossi filth like you.”

“I doubt that,” I say, rubbing my temple where a swelling lump is forming.

“What do you really want from me, then? Not money, obviously.”

With a sigh, I give an inch. “It’s complicated. I can’t tell you more than that. But I’ll make you a deal. You can have anything you want, your every whim catered to, so long as you behave, do as I say, and don’t try to run away.”

“Be a good little prisoner, is that it? Sounds more like a threat than a deal. And what if I refuse?”

“If screaming, kicking, and starving is what turns you on, go right ahead. But you’re not a prisoner. Your stay doesn’t have to be unpleasant; in fact, it can be quite enjoyable if you want it to be.”

Nicki’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Enjoyable for me or for you?” she asks, her voice sounding like the warning growl of a wild cat.

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