Page 12 of Control

Up close now, I see how those gray-blue eyes cut right through me. I didn’t notice them that night, but now I can’t look away. They pierce me with something cold, something sharp that I don’t want to understand.

I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. Not since that night. Not since he was so close, the heat and darknessthat burned off him, a reminder of everything I shouldn’t want. Even now, I can’t shake the thought of him. I tried, believe me. I went back to the warehouse, hoping—foolishly—I could find something, some trace of him.

But it was burned to the ground.

Everyone says it was arson. That some notorious gang leader pissed off the wrong people, made the wrong enemies, and got his whole life set on fire. But I know better. I know it was a cover-up.

Of course it was.

He shakes me once, snapping me out of my thoughts. His grip is firm, relentless.

“Is that understood?” he says coldly.

I nod, and he smiles. That damn smile, so sinful, so dangerous. I hate myself for wanting to see it again. He leans in closer now, too close. His breath brushes my cheek, and I can feel his eyes on me like a weight I can’t shake.

“Let’s try this again,” he says again, his voice low.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“I’m Remo Callegari, but I’m sure you already know that by now.”

I glare at him, trying to stay calm. “What am I doing here?”

The corners of his lips twitch, but it’s not amusement. He leans in a little further, his presence overwhelming, like he’s trying to consume me.

“You saw something you shouldn’t have,” he says, his voice dropping to a darker pitch. “Now you’re a problem. A loose end.”

“I already told you I wouldn’t talk,” I snap. “You didn’t have to abduct me. This is a crime. You have no right.”

He steps forward, closing the gap between us until I can smell the dark, expensive cologne he’s wearing. It should repulse me, but it doesn’t. Instead, it draws me in like a drug I can’t resist.

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong.” His voice drips with confidence, so much so that it makes my blood boil. “I have every right. When I see something I want, I take it. No rules. No time to waste on the consequences.”

“So I’m what now? Your prisoner?” I can’t keep the bitterness from slipping into my voice. “This isn’t a Beauty and the Beast spin-off. You can’t just keep people against their will.”

His jaw clenches, a muscle twitching beneath his skin, his anger barely contained. “I can, and I will. You don’t have a choice anymore.”

His words hit me like a slap.

“In the meantime,” he says, his tone shifting slightly, “make yourself at home. Over there is Livia.”

He points to a petite woman standing across the room. Her sharp green eyes are scanning me with curiosity. Her short blonde hair is messy, and she’s dressed in black leather combat boots. She gives me a quick salute and a wink, but I can’t help but wonder why she’s dressed like she’s about to go to war at this hour.

In fact, they all are. The three men and Livia who are surrounding me in this lavish, absurd penthouse. It’s too much, too polished, too perfect. The marble floors beneath my bare feet are like ice, and the windows show the city outside, distant and unreachable, a world I no longer belong to.

I want to run. My feet itch to move, to escape, but I know better. There’s no way out, not without a fight, not without being dragged back and locked away again.

This place is like a showroom. Everything is immaculate—too immaculate. It’s like they’ve scrubbed away any trace of humanity and replaced it with something cold, shiny, and impersonal.

And I? I’m the filthy little secret they’ve decided to claim.

I can feel my heart still pounding, but now it’s mixed with a rising anger. The kind of anger that comes from being underestimated. From being handled like I’m nothing.

I glance back at Remo, and there he is, still standing too close, his body heat making my skin tingle. I refuse to let him see how rattled I am. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

He studies me, his eyes sharp as knives, cutting through me, stripping me down. It’s like he’s trying to read my soul and see through every wall I’ve built, and I hate him for it.

“Don’t worry,” he says again, softer this time. “You’ll be safe. For as long as you’re here.”

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