Page 9 of The Beast of London & His Pet

I ground my teeth together and angrily tapped on my phone.

Me:You need help. Try a doctor first, and if that fails, try a priest.

I hit send but regretted it.

Why couldn't I stop antagonising him?

La Bestia:Tick Tock, goes the clock. Your time is almost up.

I put my phone on silent to fret about losing my jobs and how I managed to cross paths with a vicious beast like Alessio. His boyfriend, Nero, had the hots for murdering me, which didn't bode well for me. Perhaps he wanted me to resign, so when I was chopped up, placed in a suitcase, and dumped into the River Thames my disappearance wouldn't raise suspicion with the police. I groaned and banged my head on the glass window.

Why did it have to be his nightclub?

???

I noticed the cameras around his house when I stood in front of his door. I wasn’t surprised that he lived in a prime locationand in a fancy mansion. Rocco leaned forward and rang the doorbell. He stood directly behind me and I couldn’t chicken out and run because he would give chase.

The door opened, and The Beast stood there with an evil smile on his face. All day, I had been dreading this. There was no escaping him or his goon.

“Come in, I’ve been expecting you,” he said before he nodded to Rocco.

He was missing his suit jacket and he had a drink in his hand. I couldn’t see a gun anywhere so that was a positive sign. I followed him through the house looking for a room full of plastic sheets. He led me into a drawing room and turned to face me.

“Sit,” he said as he took a drink but kept his eyes on me.

I looked around to chose a seat furthest away from the crazy fuck.

Chapter 5

Alessio

I took a sip of my whiskey and observed her choosing a seat before she sat down. She wore a cream blouse, tight jeans and black boots. Her long black coat was tailored and fitted her perfectly. My eyes lingered on the see-through material of her blouse. She was a very attractive young woman but didn’t flaunt herself on social media or in life.

If anything, she was a homebody, spending much of her time with her grandparents. Vittorio and Benedetta Nardini. Her father wasn't listed on the birth certificate, and her mother, Bella Nardini, died while giving birth.

There was no point beating around the bush. I’d spent the last six days grappling with my attraction, and I couldn't get her out of my mind. The thought of her touching another man, let alone being intimate with them, made me murderous.

“What's your relationship with Curtis?” I asked, remembering the bastard she kissed.

“My manager?” she asked with a frown. “Uh, he is my manager. I don't have a relationship with him.”

“Care to explain why you kissed him outside of your work?”

“What does that have to do with the price of mangos?”

I scowled at her idiotic response, but I calmly sat my drink on the table next to her seat and turned to grip her throat.

“I want you, Francesca, and unfortunately for you, I’m used to getting my way. So be a good girl and tell me why you fucking kissed that cunt,” I said with my temper flaring when I remembered how he looked at her.

She might not know it, but the bastard was mooning over her like a lovesick fool.

“He helped me raise four hundred and eighty-nine pounds for a child protection charity in work. I was thanking him,” she squeaked out as she put her hands over mine in an attempt to pull me off.

Her dainty hands had little strength to them, but I loosened my grip around her neck when I saw her face was red.

“There, that wasn't so hard, was it?” I said.

She was dying to say something rude. I could see it in her eyes, but she wisely bit into her lip. I stared into her green eyes before I continued.

---