Page 80 of Ruthless Lord
A shadow’s moving near the desk. It’s a person hunched over, rifling through the drawers. I stare in surprise, my brain so shocked that it’s not really computing what’s going on. I step into the room and open my mouth, thinking this is one of Stefano’s guys sent here on some bizarre late-night errand, but he’s a criminal. That sort of thing happens, right?
Instead, the person looks up.
I’ve never seen him before in my life.
His nose is hooked and crooked. He’s got sharp, narrow eyes and a bald head that could use a fresh shave. His scalp gleams, greasy in the weak light. I open my mouth to say something, but before I can make a sound, he’s flying across the room at me, leaping over the desk and sprinting head-on.
I yelp, barely an aborted scream, before the man slams into me, knocking me back against the wall.
My head smashes into the corner of the doorframe. Lights burst in the edges of my vision and pain flares on my scalp. I groan, trying to turn away, but the man grabs my wrist and yanks me deeper into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.
I twist away, yelping as I grab a picture frame from a shelf. I throw it at the man as hard as I can, but he dodges to the side. The frame smashes against the wall and shatters.
“Bad timing,” he snarls, rearing back his fist.
This can’t be happening.
He snaps his arm forward and slams his knuckles straight into my face. I gasp at the pain and buckle to the floor.
Nope, definitely happening.
God damn it, that hurt. How does Stefano get hit like this all the time and keep going? I roll to my side and try to crawl away, but the man kicks me hard in the ribs, knocking the wind from my lungs. I heave, almost throwing up, fingers scrambling at a chair leg. I have to fight back, I have to get away. I need to scream for help and wake Stefano but I can’t breathe.
The man kicks me again. And again. I’m struggling to keep myself conscious, let alone to make noise. He kneels down on my stomach, putting all his weight on me, and wraps his hands around my throat.
Black jacket. Black jeans. His nails are yellow and dirty. His lips pull back in a snarl, showing off clean white teeth.
“Real bad timing,” he growls as his fingers dig into my windpipe. It hurts and I can’t breathe. “I’m going to get in trouble for this.”
Then let go. Please let go. Please, please, please, I just decided I want to live, I just decided I want to be with my husband,please don’t kill me?—
But I can’t make a sound. I gag and choke, struggling weakly against him, but the man’s too strong and too big. I’m dizzy and more spots are forming in my vision. They’re growing bigger, starting to eat my world like hungry black holes.
“What a mess,” the man sighs, shaking his head, tightening his grip. “Gonna be a long night.”
Please don’t do this. Please, I can’t, I won’t, please… Stefano… I don’t want… please…
Chapter 24
Stefano
The sound of breaking glass wakes me. I stare at the ceiling, frowning to myself, waiting for more noise. There’s nobody in the bed beside me. I reach out and don’t feel her, aware that I’d break the rule if I touched her. But not caring.
Something’s wrong.
There’s a thud. Followed by another. Slowly, I kick the sheets off, listening.
Something’s fucking wrong.
It’s late. A little past midnight. Charlie should be asleep beside me. Was that really glass? Or was it part of a dream? I drift toward the bedroom door and find it’s slightly open. Like someone didn’t close it all the way.
Something’s wrong.
I drift into the hall, listening. I’m almost about to go back to bed when there’s another thump. Weak this time. Barely audible.But it’s definitely coming from the back of the house. I hurry toward my office, heart racing, adrenaline hitting my veins.
There’s a light on inside. Nobody should be in there.
What the hell is happening?
