Page 40 of Owning Nicci

The moment the car pulls into the garage, she bolts out of it, heading straight for the garage door that leads into the building, as if she’s forgotten she can’t get in without my key. Her shoulders are stiff, her body purposefully turned away from me, and that anger vibrates through me again.

“I think you’ve forgotten the rules,principessa,” I growl as I walk up to her. “You wait for me. You do what I say and you go where I tell you?——”

“Just let me in.” Her voice is flat, wet with tears, and I grit my teeth.

“Your insolence?—”

“Let me in!” She slams her hands against the glass of the door, startling me. Before I can stop myself—and think about how she should be reprimanded for this—I pull my key out of my pocket, flashing it in front of the reader.

The door clicks open, and she bolts through it. She’s up the stairs faster than I can catch up to her, all the way to the elevator. She flings herself into it, the doors closing on me, and I see her huddling into the corner as I let out a sharp breath of frustration, slapping my hand against the button just in time.

“You can’t get up to the penthouse without me, pet,” I snap. “And this behavior?—”

“Leave me alone.” She twists away from me, her eyes red, leaking tears again. The moment the elevator doors open, she’s out of them again, clearly beyond caring how I might punish her, what might happen because of this. She only waits long enough for me to unlock the front door before she’s up the stairs, flinging herself into her room, and I follow her in, standing several feet behind her.

“Come with me, Nicci.”

“No.” Her voice is hollow. “I’m not doing it.”

“Clearly you need another lesson in who you belong to?—”

“Fuck off.” She wraps her arms around herself. “Call off the deal, whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

I blink at her, unable to believe that she actually means that. I saw the fire in her when we took down Lucas, saw her anticipation of killing Marco tonight. There’s more left, and we haven’t even gotten to her father yet. That’s the reason, I think, she really made this deal in the first place.

“I’ll give you one more chance,principessa.”

I’m not sure why I’m offering her another chance. I should be dragging her to the playroom right now, punishing her thoroughly, reminding her that her body, her will, her desires are all mine now. That this kind of attitude is unacceptable. I should be calling off our deal, just as she said, locking her in this room until I’m finished taking my pleasure from her, and then finding somewhere different for her to be of use. I could put her in a club in Vegas, in LA, in Miami, somewhere far away from me—somewhere I could forget about her.

Instead, I stand there, rooted to the spot as I wait for her to give in. To break and say she’s sorry. To go down on her knees and beg me to forgive her.

Somehow, the image of that repulses me, even as I feel myself get hard. The thought of breaking her feels wrong, even as it arouses me. I want her submission—and I want her rebellion, too.

I grit my teeth, taking a step forward. I need to master this—both her and myself. “Take your clothes off and give them back to me,” I bite out, trying not to think about my cum dripping out of her right now, soaking her panties, her jeans.

She stiffens, on the verge of refusal, and I start to take another step forward, unsure of what I’m going to do when I get to her. But I never get the chance to figure it out.

Instead, I hear the sound of the front door crashing open below—and a voice shouting in Italian: “Look upstairs!”

I reach for my gun, cursing aloud when I realize it’s still on the floorboard of the car. “Stay here!” I snap at Nicci, pivoting on my heel. “Don’t fucking leave this room.”

And then I bolt toward my own room, and the gun that I know is in the nightstand there.

14

NICCI

My thoughts feel so fragmented that it takes a moment for me to realize what’s happening. I turn as Savio runs from the room, startled out of my fog, and the noises from downstairs start to filter into my consciousness.

Shouts. The sound of boots against the wooden floor, heading for the stairs. Savio’s footsteps in the hall, heading to meet them. I know I should go out there, that I should help him. That I should defend us. I can shoot a gun now, fight back against someone trying to hurt me. But instead I stand there, frozen to the spot, fear flooding me until I can’t move or even really think.

Someone is attacking the house. Why, I don’t know—maybe it has to do with the Crows, or maybe it’s something else Savio has done, some other enemy that he didn’t tell me about. And why would he? I’m just a possession. Something he bought to use, to enjoy. I’m not apersonto him.

A sudden sob clogs my throat, a shudder running through me. I haven’t had time to think about what happened behind the bar, in Savio’s car afterward. I haven’t had time to figure out why it’s making me feel this way, and now…

Thecrackof a gunshot tears through my racing thoughts. It spurs me into action, but not enough to rush out and try to help. I can’t make myself go further than the door, which Savio slammed closed behind him as he ran out into the hall. I can’t make myself open it. Instead, I flip the lock and retreat, shaking, tears starting to run down my face again as I ball myself up next to the far side of the bed, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

Make it stop. Just make it stop.The thought runs through my head, over and over. I hear another gunshot, another, and I press my forehead to my knees, shaking all over. I don’t know if I want Savio to survive this or not. If he’s dead, I might be free…but my father would find me. My brother might look for me. And who’s to say that whoever is downstairs wouldn’t take me for their own?

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