Page 34 of Savage Don's Captive

What hits me first isn’t even his face—it’s that sharp black shirt hugging his body, and those crisp pants that scream control. Every inch of him radiates lethal precision.

No. No, this can’t be happening.

My heart slams to a halt—fear crawling up my spine like frostbite. For a terrifying moment, I forget how to breathe.

I’ve been running—running for my life—and now here he is, blocking my escape like a living nightmare.

Gone is my first plan to lunge for the knife in the sink. My chair crashes to the floor as I bolt for the door, lungs burning as I gasp for air. My body floods with adrenaline, every nerve screaming in flight mode.

But just as my fingertips brush the handle, his iron grip locks around my arm, yanking me back with terrifying force. His fingers dig into my flesh, pressing against bone, with calculated pressure.

“No!” I scream, my free hand clawing at the door, nails scraping against the wood. I twist in his grip, tendons straining as I fight against his hold. But it’s pointless. I’m caught—trapped once again in his grasp.

“You think you can run from me, Alessandra?” Dominic’s breath is hot against my ear, his chest pressing against my back like a wall of muscle and rage.

“Please!” My voice cracks, desperation making it sound foreign even to my own ears.

I thrash against him, heels kicking back at his shins, but he doesn’t even flinch. Every movement I make seems to tighten his grip, like fighting against quicksand.

“I’m always ten steps ahead of you.” His lips brush against my ear, sending a shiver of terror down my spine. “There is no place in this city where you can fucking hide from me.”

Chapter nine

Dominic

Ragefuckingblindsme.

I can’t think, breathe, or see anything but the red-hot fury searing through my veins. The moment I realized Alessa was gone, every other sense just fucking shuts down.

Gone.

She didn’t just leave. No, that would be too goddamn simple. She had the nerve—the fucking gall—to make her bed first. Tucked it all in like it was any other day, like she wasn’t about to rip everything apart and disappear. A final “fuck you” to me, neatly wrapped in sheets and pillows before she slipped out of her room.

Out of the house. Out of the fucking estate, Goddamnit!

It doesn’t make sense. How could I have missed it? How could anyone have missed it?

I picture her, that defiant little smirk she wears when she knows she’s got the upper hand, walking out like she owned the place. Maybe she took her time. Maybe she looked back one last time just to savor it, to savor me not having a fucking clue she was already gone.

It’s the thought of her laughing at me that makes me want to tear the whole damn place apart. Punch a hole in the wall, set fire to every fucking thing she’s touched. Because she played me. She fucking played me, and I let her.

She’s gone.

But where? Where the hell would she run to? She knows there’s nowhere she can hide that I won’t find her. When I get my hands on her—she’d better pray I don’t.

The scales tip back in my direction when TJ informs me that Alessa is at Luna Rossa.

My lips curl into a dark grin. Of all the places she could’ve run to, she ends up at the club.

My club.

One of many pieces in the empire I’m building, brick by bloody brick. I’ve spent years studying how the Dons operate, watchingtheir strengths and their weaknesses. Once I’m at the table, I’ll change everything. But first, I need to handle this Russo situation.

God really does work in my favor.Dio gioca davvero dalla mia parte.

I drag her ass out of the kitchen, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her arm. Her body stumbles to keep up with my pace, and I don’t slow down for shit. I feel her tugging, trying to pull away, but it’s fucking useless. She’s not going anywhere. Not this time.

“Let go of me, Dominic,” she grunts, twisting her arm in my grip, and I couldn’t care less if it bruises that perfect skin. She almost fucking ruined my chance at being made—a chance I’ve been clawing and bleeding for since my father died.

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