Page 18 of Savage Prince

I’m sure I look ridiculous, limping along the street in my stilettos. There's nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, but I have to keep moving. The pain in my ankle is becoming excruciating. I grit my teeth, biting my tongue not to scream with each step.

I’m hobbling now, nowhere near a jog even, and his footfalls slow, growing ever closer. The hair on the back of my neck rises, every sense on high alert.

“If you keep trying to run, you could break that ankle.”

“What the fuck do you care?” I shout back over my shoulder.

“It would be a shame to retire those red heels. They’re sexy as hell.”

An odd mix between a laugh and a sob bursts through my clenched teeth. I whirl around, clutching the gun in my fist, my finger on the trigger. “Too bad you’ll never get to see them again.”

I level the muzzle at his head and at this distance, just over a yard, I know I won’t miss. Velvety midnight orbs sear to mine, the piercing intensity just as powerful as the first night we met outside his nightclub in Rome. A tiny pang of regret squirms its way into my chest as my finger skims the trigger.

And I squeeze.

My heart stops as I wait for the earsplitting bang, for his body to crumple, for the crimson bullet wound to bloom across his forehead. Only none of that happens. Instead, he simply stares at me, a savage grin curling the corners of his lips.

It wasn’t loaded…

“You were never going to get away,tesoro. Don’t you see? You’re mine now.”

CHAPTER 10

A GOOD LITTLE HOSTAGE

Antonio

The familiar scent of leather and polished wood greets me as I step onto the private jet I hired for this little excursion. It’s likely an extravagance I shouldn’t have indulged in given the precarious state of the business, but with my prizedtesoroin tow, I didn’t have any other option.

Even with a sprained or possibly broken ankle, not to mention the handcuffs I was forced to use to restrain her, Serena doesn’t stop fighting. I find it oddly endearing. The woman has fire, and a mouth that would seem more appropriate on aputtanaon the streets of Napoli. I watch my new hostage as Ottavio, whose eye is still bleeding, drags her onto the plane. She’s kicking and scratching him, more feral animal than female.

And fuck, if it doesn’t make my dick hard.

What is it about this woman?

I sink into the plush leather seats across from the polished mahogany tables which shine under soft ambient lighting. Thehum of luxury and relaxation is shattered by the screams and curses coming from my newest guest.

I huff out a breath and drag my fingers through my hair. “There’s no point in fighting him, Serena. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Her eyes are wild, the brilliant sapphire ablaze with fury. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I did a damned good job hurting good old Otto.” She twists her head back and tosses my scowling colleague a shit-eating grin. His bloody left eye is bandaged, the right one bruised but still functioning.

She’s not wrong. The man may lose his eye from those lethal tongs. At least now, I’ve learned never to underestimate Serena Valentino.

With a growl, Otto shoves her toward the seat beside me. She trips, her bad ankle faltering and she barely gets her hands out in time before her face slams into the back of the seat.

A jab of unexpected fury lances through my insides as I see her fall. “Enough,bastardo,” I snarl as I leap up and curl my fingers around his throat. “That’s the last time you lay a hand on her.”

“But,capo?—”

“I don’t want to hear it. She is to be treated with the respect a woman deserves. From now on, no one touches her but me.Capisci?”

My fingers tighten until he finally nods reluctantly. I release him and stalk back to my seat. Serena is curled into the supple leather, her gaze shooting daggers as I slide past to sit beside her.

Once I’m settled in, I pivot to face my new captive. “Let me see your ankle.” At least I could wrap it, like I did Otto’s eye.

“Vaffanculo,” she hisses, folding her arms around her legs and turning so that her back faces me.Go fuck yourself.

“I see that went well.” Pietro appears from the back of the jet, and a woman scurries out behind him. His dark curly hair falls in messy tangles across his forehead, and the redheaded flight attendant has that just-been-fucked look about her. She lowers her gaze as she zips by and disappears behind the curtain to the cockpit.

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