Page 17 of Runaway in the Mafia
My throat worked. “That’s just rude and—”
“Agreed.”
Ugh.My teeth chewed on my bottom lip. Why was he so confusing? I couldn’t remember where I was going with this.
He shifted in his seat. “And direct. I am anything but—” With a groan, he rolled his head back and ran his hand through his hair. “Stop fucking biting your lip or I’ll do it for you.”
My teeth released as fast as a metal spring.I’ll do it for youheated my ears.
His gaze pinned back to me with direct intention and hot awareness. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t pull mine away. He was metal. I was magnetic. My skin buzzed and pulsed with need. My toes tingled. I crossed my legs to soothe the heat between my thighs, and his gaze dropped and followed.Knowingly.There was only one way to end the tension in this room, and it didn’t have to do with one of us walking away.But maybe we should. I should.
He crowded me in. Overwhelmed me from a distance of ten feet. Made my legs feel like jelly and my heart flutter violently. This was bad. He was bad. I needed to get out of there. My hand clawed at the sheet and clenched. His “Stay,” warmed my skin before I could pull myself up and off the bed.
No. I shouldn’t stay.But my hand released the sheet. It shook when I nervously rushed it through my hair.
“It’s perfect.”
I froze. His voice was warm honey. I prayed to all the Gods I worshipped. Get me out of here because I was about to sin.
Like they had heard me, my phone rang next to me. Shrill. Startling me. His brows creased into a frown. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. The amber of his cigar burning hot in between. I suddenly realised he hadn’t taken a single puff since he’d glanced my way.
“Ignore it.”
I was anything but obedient, but with him I couldn’t be. I shouldn’t. I snatched my phone and glanced at it. A twinge of happiness touched my chest. My sister. Amara was the only one back home who knew the real me. This meant she was alone and she could talk, but… my gaze shifted up to find him watching me under his intent gaze. I wasn’t. I swiped it off.
“Who was it?” His tone was annoyed.
“No one,” I muttered.
He glared at my phone as if I held a weapon in my hand. “No one, huh?” He let out a short laugh. “Is your name even real?”
“Yes.” A mistake, obviously. I shouldn’t have done that. But I couldn’t bear to be called by something else. I’d lost everything. I wanted to at least own my name.
The ash from his cigar dropped to the floor, but he didn’t even seem to notice. “What’s your surname?”
I opened my mouth. To tell him the same lie I’d told so many others before him, but he stopped me with his next words. “And don’t fucking lie to me.”
My lips clamped shut.
The silence between us was heavy. Five long pulse beats passed between us. Each one constricting within my ribcage. His voice softened. “Tell me the truth...” if I had even an inkling to do that, the next words took it over. “I’ll find out, anyway.”
No, he wouldn’t.
That arrogance wouldn’t do him any favours.
I trusted Ada, and she’d closed off any leaks. Hopefully.
He saw it in my eyes, and his short patience slipped. A frustrated growl spilled out of him. “Just fucking tell me, Ahana. Who the fuck are you running away from?”
Rajesh.It was so easy to name my husband, hopefully my ex-husband, soon. A nightmare that I could forget. The man who had promised my father he’d look after me like a princess but had kept me like a slave. The man with the limp dick who hadn’t been able to get it up except for one very memorable time. The man who blamed me for everything. Who’d beaten me to cover up for his frustrations. Again and again. The husband who couldn’t satisfy with words or deeds but who was obsessed enough to cover up the sunlight from the windows. It would be so easy to name him.
If I can’t fuck you, no one else will, Ahana.
But I couldn’t. Because this shame wasn’t only mine to carry. What it would do to my family weighed on me as heavy as concrete. Enough to be poured in to seal a foundation of guilt. There was no doubt. The way this don looked at me… if he knew what Rajesh had done, I might have that final piece of paper that I desired so badly, but shame would be sealed in thick red letters within it.
He saw me come to my decision. I didn’t have to open my mouth to voice it. He saw through me at that moment like I was tracing paper to the bold black line drawn beneath it.
Anger and pure frustration itched across his face and fisted in his hands. What he would have said, I didn’t know, because the loud knock on the door broke the tension between us.
