Page 36 of Phantom Mine

He’s still laughing when he turns, his skin digging into the blade with every deep chuckle. He doesn’t seem to care or even notice.

“Fascinating,” he grins, eyes on the knife before they rake erotically slowly down the length of my body. “You’ll have to show me where you kept that later.”

“You’ll be dead later,” I answer, digging the knife further into his throat to emphasize my point.

Matteo doesn’t fight against the knife, he doesn’t make a move to counter attack. Instead, his body relaxes. He tilts his head back against the wall.

“Will I? Pity,” he pouts. His smile fades. “Now you really can’t deny that you’re not who you say you are,Melody.” He says my fake name mockingly. “I’m at your mercy. You’ve just said that you’re going to kill me, so why don’t you tell me the truth?”

I frown at him. “You don’t seem overly concerned by your fate.”

A charming smile is back on his lips in an instant. “If your beautiful face is the last thing I see before I die, that’s a far better fate than I could have ever imagined for myself.”

My treacherous stomach flutters at his words. I steady my hand at his throat to neuter that reaction.

“Flirting won’t save your life.”

“Maybe not, but it’s certainly making my final moments a little more exciting, don’t you think?”

I should already have killed him by now and put a third notch in my belt, but it’s not jitters halting my hand, it’s something far worse. That same hesitation, that same doubt from earlier.

Come on, Leni.

All I need to do is add a little bit of pressure and I’ll slice his carotid.

Just fucking do it.

If he sees the internal battle waging inside me, he doesn’t comment on it.

“You know, I thought you were running from an abusive boyfriend.” His eyes flick down to the knife and his lips twitch. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

I press the knife closer. “If I ever have an abusive boyfriend, he’ll run from me.”

Matteo grins, that same easy, alluring smile that makes him look like a GQ model.

“I see that now,pavona.”

“Stop with the nickname,” I grit, annoyed by the clenching in my stomach every time he says it.

Matteo tilts his head to the side. “Do you even know what it means?”

“No.”

I frown.

Should I?

His face relaxes, then settles like he’s made a decision. He sighs. “Too bad.”

In the next heartbeat, he straightens with lightning speed and grabs my knife-wielding wrist, clutching it in his closed fist.

“Mat—” I’m cut off by my own pained whimper as he squeezes my wrist. “Stop!”

“No,” he replies easily. “Game’s over.”

He bends my arm back at an unnatural angle, continuing to clamp down on my wrist with force. The savagery and ease with which he crushes my limb and forces me to release the blade show that he was only employing a fraction of his strength earlier. Now at full power, he does as he wants with my body, maneuvering me like I’m a puppet with appendages to be moved however he pleases.

He snatches the knife out of the air a second time and keeps it clenched in his fist as he walks me backwards and slams me down on his brother’s desk. The air expels from my lungs when I make contact with the hard surface.

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