Page 70 of Betraying Family Vows
His eyes darken dangerously. "So another performance? You're good at those. Maybe you're softening me up so you can cover your tracks. Delete evidence before I find it."
"You're unbelievable," I scoff. "All this macho attitude because you can't handle a woman who doesn't beg for your approval. Who maybe doesn't need you to save her at all."
Something shifts in Dimitri's expression, something primal and hungry.
"I can handle you just fine," he says, voice dropping.
"Whatever. Tell me now. Admit it. You don't trust me. Not for one second."
"Trust isn't a luxury I have," he snaps. "Especially with someone who drugged me and handed me over to be tortured."
"And yet here I am," I yell. "In your house. In your fucking sister's clothes. You think I'm plotting something? You think I'm going to slit your throat while you sleep?"
He doesn't answer. Just stares at me like he's already decided I'm a problem he has to solve.
For one awful moment, the silence between us feels bottomless, like there's no coming back from this. Like maybe we were always going to destroy each other.
Then he turns and walks out of the room, slamming the door so hard I think the walls shake.
23
ATHENA
The silence after he leaves feels worse than any threat he's ever made. My hands are still trembling.
I stand there, breathing hard, working through my emotions.
I don't know how long I stay frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the door like it might open again. Like maybe he'll come back and say something that makes any of this make sense.
But he doesn't.
So I sink onto the edge of the bed and drop my face into my hands, fighting the urge to scream.
My blood swooshes in my ears, loud and fast.
I'm not sure how many minutes pass before I hear it, the heavy steps in the hall.
I lift my head just as the door bursts open.
He's there, standing in the doorway, his shoulders rising and falling with every breath. His muscles tense. Biceps flexing. Jaw muscles twitching.
His eyes find mine, and in them I see something unhinged. Dark.
He doesn't say a word.
He just steps inside, slamming the door behind him, and locking it.
I don't have time to take another breath before he moves.
In three strides, he's in front of me, so close I can't see anything but the dark fury in his eyes. His hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back as he slams my body against the wall. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, but the shock is instantly overtaken by a rush of heat.
In one fluid motion, he draws a knife and brings it to my throat. The cold steel grazes my skin.
"You think I can't handle you?" he asks, his voice dark.
I go to hit him, but he pins my wrists above my head with one big hand. His knee pushes between mine, forcing them apart.
His body leans against mine, every hard plane of his chest and hips pressing against me. "You think I don't see right through you?"
