Page 70 of Runaway in the Mafia
Didn’t mean I wanted it to be. My chest crawled with need. I wanted to be selfish. I wanted my history to fade to a memory the size of a dot. One pixel amongst a million. He’d dragged me back here and offered nothing but locked doors, steel frames, and iron rods. But I wanted this more than the bare cement walls Rajesh had imprisoned me in.
I couldn’t afford the time to lament about a future I couldn’t have. What I should have been doing was figuring out a plan B for leaving this behind before the bomb exploded in Delhi. This was all a dream, anyway. I was only kidding myself that this was all about me. If I told him, if I really told him what my history was, the expectations of my family, he’d leave tire marks on his way out.
His obsession was addictive. But it had nothing to do with me. How could it? I was meant to be a lot of things. But his, wasn’t one of them. But it did nothing to stop the hollow feeling carving deeper into my chest. One that bit at the fragile edges of my heart like acid.
“I’ll only need halfan hour, max.”
Romeo scratched the back of his neck and shifted on his feet. Uncomfortable, but not adamant.
The morning had passed in a blur of activity for Sara’s wedding. She looked gorgeous. Her groom another weapon-carrying prince charming. The wedding was one out of a fairytale. The afternoon was filled with crystal clinking and bubbles of laughter seeping into all corners of Remigio and Fiorella’s home. Somehow, it failed to penetrate me. Only fear tangled in my chest. More than twenty-four hours had passed since I last called Rajesh, and all I could hear was the agitation inmy heartbeat. I kept my eyes on my target. Plan B. Shift my focus to the weakest link.
I’d done my part. Gritted my teeth through a wedding I didn’t want to be a part of. My jaw ached from all the plastic smiles I’d let slip through my stiff lips. My shoulder throbbed from the tension tightening into it every time I’d caught insane eyes following me.
I shoved the guilt nipping at my edges, placed my hand on his forearm, and squeezed gently. Alluringly. “Please?” I could say it was an effort to pull out my Bambi eyes. It wasn’t. I was that desperate. Less than two days. That’s all I had. Nothing could distract me from getting to Rajesh. Stopping him from destroying Papa. A wedding going on in the background only intensified my need to do it. The cheers and giggles in the background screamed in my ear. All I wanted was to get out of there. For Papa. For Amara. And for me too.Right?
“I don’t know, Ahana—”
“I just need a few minutes.” I took a step closer to him, in the doorway to Remigio’s office, where I’d followed him to. “If I don’t deliver the printouts, they’ll fire me from my contract.” I didn’t even feel bad about lying to him.
“Vitale’s going to kill me.” His hand rubbed his shoulder as if he were remembering his past injury.
I fought not to follow the movement. It might be his other shoulder this time or something else. But I had a bigger problem in the future if I didn’t make it.
“He doesn’t need to know.”
The instant the words left my lips, awareness prickled me. My bad timing, a blemish that hindered my path. It wasn’t even Romeo’s demeanour shifting that got the hair behind my neck rising. It was the subtle barnyard smell, the richness of cedar, and the burn on my back like an open flame.
My hand on Romeo’s arm itched, but I refused to remove it. I would not allow this man to own me. He already had my body, my thoughts, but not my actions. I wasn’t allowing it. Romeo, though, had other ideas about it. He took a hurried step back and released his arm underneath mine, weary eyes on the lunatic brushing my back.
“I wasn’t—”
“Fuck off.”
Romeo gave me a helpless look, then thought twice about standing up to me and sneaked out as easily as an eel to oil. The weakest link. No doubt about that.
I didn’t turn. I wasn’t giving in to him. I ignored the wrath radiating behind me. But when his soothing voice hit me right behind the dip of my ear, I almost shrieked from the shock of it. He was much closer than I’d thought. I was so out of balance that I lost his words in the mix.
“What?”
“What did I tell you about being mine?”
His growl was laced with danger. Lunacy danced behind it. Only an idiot would negate him.
“I. Am. Not. Yours.” Me being the idiot.
“Let me be the judge of that.” His tone was quiet, controlled.
That gave me courage. A false sense of safety. “So, we fucked. That doesn’t say anything.”
I winced.
What was wrong with me?Both the vile language and the attitude were off the charts for me. It was all him. He made me feel brave. Sometimes falsely so.
I prepared for the consequences, expected a blast. The room to go up in flames. The ceiling to collapse on me. At the very least, a slap on my ass. Nothing but silence greeted me, and after two painfully shallow heartbeats, I let out a relieved sigh. A shotof adrenaline flashed through me. I couldn’t help but be thrilled that I got away with it.
“Fucking, not fucked.”
False alarm.
