Page 8 of Santa Daddy
"I'm not your?—"
His hand shot out. Grabbed my jaw. Forced me to look at him.
"Say that again."
The threat in his voice made my stomach drop.
"I'm not?—"
He leaned closer. Close enough I could see the exact shade of his eyes. See the complete absence of mercy in them.
"You are mine, Daniela. Mine to keep. Mine to use." His grip tightened. "Mine to fuck if I want. Or mine to kill. Your choice which you prefer."
Neither. I preferred neither.
"So." His thumb pressed against my jaw. Hard. "You be good girl and play fiancée. Or you be dead girl. Simple."
He released me.
Turned away.
Like it was decided.
My jaw throbbed where he grabbed me. I could still feel the imprint of his fingers.
He was going to kill me. Maybe not today. But soon.
The thought should have terrified me.
It did.
But underneath the terror, something else whispered.
Something about the way he stepped between me and those guns. The way he said 'mine' like he meant it.
Stop. Stop looking for humanity in a monster.
We turned onto the highway. Leaving the city. Everything familiar.
Gone.
Konstantin pulled off his coat. Dropped it over my lap without looking at me.
"You're cold. Put it on."
Not a request.
The coat was heavy. Warm from his body. Smelled like cedar and money.
I didn't move.
"Now, Daniela."
The way he said my full name made it a command.
I pulled the coat around my shoulders because I was freezing and because defying him over a coat seemed stupid when he'd already threatened to break my legs.
The city slid past outside. Christmas lights everywhere. Families. Joy.
