Page 41 of Wicked Intentions (Wicked Games 3)
Those dead eyes slice straight through me. For a long moment, he simply stares at me. Then, horribly, he starts to laugh.
“Enzo! Have you ever seen such a look!” He motions to me with his cigar. A fat clump of glowing ash falls onto one of the girls, burning her leg. She pulls her lips between her teeth and whimpers.
“Ya,” drawls Enzo, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. He winks at me. “When some guy wants to kill me, he looks just like that.”
Smiling, Capo tilts his head back and looks at me from under hooded lids. “You want to kill me, Mari?”
Only every day, you worthless piece of shit. “I’m not in the murder business.”
His smile vanishes. “You’re in whatever business I say you’re in.”
I swallow. A cold bead of sweat trickles down the back of my neck. Behind me, one of the fighters lands a vicious blow.
The crunch of bone makes the collared girls shudder.
“Yes, Capo. I meant no disrespect.”
Gazing at me thoughtfully, he draws on his cigar. The tip burns red. He exhales a plume of smoke. Then, without looking away from me, he raises the hand that holds the girls’ leashes and turns to Enzo. “Get rid of this garbage.”
Enzo leads them off like they’re a pair of dogs on choke chains. They crawl behind him on hands and knees toward a door on the far side of the room. I can’t watch, because I can’t help them, and I’m concentrating on swallowing the scream of impotent rage building in my throat.
I start counting all the places I’ve hidden weapons on my body.
Left thigh. Lower back. Right forearm. Shoe.
I’m not going to attempt anything because I’d be dead within seconds, but it calms me.
Capo motions for me to join him on the sofa. “Come. Take off your coat and have some champagne.”
The six bodyguards watch me rebel for a moment against an order from their king. Try as I might, I can’t move, and my body remains frozen.
Capo’s hand is extended toward me. His eyes glitter with malice. Very quietly, he says my name.
I drag in a breath and find the will to get my shaking fingers to untie the belt on my coat. It falls open, Capo’s eyes flare, and I freeze all over again.
Abruptly, he stands and comes to me. He cuffs my wrists in his hands and gives me a short, hard shake. I smell his cologne, sandalwood and cloves, and almost groan in terror.
“You seem reluctant.” His voice is low, his face close to mine. “Are you afraid of me, Mari?”
I could die in this room, and no one would ever know. I’d never see Reynard again. I’d never see the sun again.
And the American… Will he think of me?
I’m hyperventilating. It must be my fear that answers Capo, because I would never be so self-destructive to utter the words I say next.
“Yes. But I hate myself for it. You’re not worth the wasted breath.”
A muscle in his jaw flexes. He looks at my mouth. “I’ve killed men for less than that,” he says softly, deadly. His gaze flashes back up to mine. His grip around my wrists is viciously tight.
I think of the American again, the way he touched my body with such reverence, how he was so sweet I couldn’t bear it. It’s comical that I should be thinking of him at this moment. Or maybe it’s madness. Either way, it gives me a welcome boost of strength.
“I can’t help it if you don’t like to hear the truth.”
Capo exhales slowly. His lids droop. He moistens his lips.
With a fresh dose of horror, I realize he’s aroused by my defiance.
“Always so reckless, Mari,” he says in a lover’s tender murmur. “Always so proud. Do you know what I’d like to do with that pride of yours?”
