Page 17 of Broken Pawn

When I looked down at my hand, I noticed that it was bandaged. It didn't make sense why Ethan would have my hand treated despite the fact that I was his prisoner. However, I was concerned that he had ulterior motives for me other than merevengeance.

I was only a waitress and a business student. What has a Mafia boss got to do with me? At the very least, I hoped he'd realize how boring I was and leave me alone.

I took a look around the room and noticed that it was quite large. It was a demonstration that Ethan had money and power or that his boss did. I had no idea how the Mafia hierarchy operated.

Ethan was hard to talk with. Everything I said to him, whether rude or polite, seemed to amuse him. I only hoped there was someone above him with whom I could come to terms.

There were only two doors in the room. The first must have been the entrance, while the second most likely led into the bathroom. I went to the second one because I had no other choice. As I had predicted, it led to a large bathroom.

It was made of gold-plated metal and covered from top to bottom with expensive tiles. Everything appeared to be made of gold, and I wasn't expecting a man like Ethan to appreciate something so gleaming and opulent.

This is far too much for my poor eyes.

The bed was larger than I had initially noticed, and there was a sofa in the room next to a center table and a hugeTV. It was more than twice the size of my uncle's 32” screen, and I assumed it would be my only company.

I hadn't realized how wealthy the Mafia was until that point, even though Anna's family was not considered poor either. I knew they were dangerous and lacked empathy for those they killed, but I had no idea they lived so comfortably. That made Ethan even more dangerous than I had previously thought.

My thoughts returned to my present predicament. Despite knowing my uncle had a history with Ethan and his family, I blamed myself for what had happened. From the moment I agreed to switch places with Anna and go up to Room Thirteen to the moment I failed to kill Ethan, I considered the many different choices I could have made. I knew that nothing would have changed.

I need to get out of here. I knew he would come forme. It was almost as if I could sense it. That dread gave me a sense of urgency, and I dashed back to the door. I grabbed the knob and turned it again, but nothing happened.

Still, I twisted and turned, hoping it would give way and I'd be able to escape.

Tugging for what felt like the twentieth time, I heard the door unlock and stepped away. It was everything I had wished for in the previous few minutes, but when itslowly opened, it scared me to death.

Ethan walked in with aface,oddly enough, devoid of his cocky smirk. Without his suit and coat, his muscular body was more defined. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and jogger pants, the sleeves hugged his muscles, making them appear even larger. Even though I hated him, I had to admit that his physique was trulyflawless.

Coming to my senses, I backed away from him.

"Whyare you doing thisto us?" I dared to ask him, hoping he'd respond as he usually did.

"Because your uncle, Fred Westbrook, attempted to kill my uncle ten years ago. He nearly succeeded as well. You realize that men like us don't take this lightly."

"I don't believe you," I said flatly, knowing my uncle. "Unlike the rest of you and your men, he isn't a monster."

Ethan was walking further into the room, attempting to close the gap between us, as he had done previously. The difference between that time in the alley and this one in his lavish home was that I hadn't made an attempt on his life. We were really way pastpleasantries by now.

"Believe it or not, your uncle was once a member of my family. We treated him like one of us, and he was until he betrayed my uncle," Ethan kept going, but I didn't believe him. How could I possibly take a man like him seriously?

The more he spoke, the closer he got to me, and I had to move away from his overwhelmingpresence. Being alone with him terrified me.

I stepped back to the bed, knowing he'd follow me. I saw the door past him while trying not to think about his addictive musky scent.

My strategy was simple. Once he was close enough, I'd sprint across the bed and sprint for the door. I was confident that if I ran fast enough, he wouldn't be able to catch me.

"Where are you running to?" For a brief moment, I thought he had read my mind when he asked.

I was trapped between the bed and him, just as he and I had desired, albeit for different reasons. He drew closer to me again, and my mind went blank for a split second. As he closed the gap between us, his body seemed to grow larger and larger.

Although his hands remained by his side, I felt goosebumps on my arms as if he had touched me.

Why can't I move?

I thought it was fear, but it wasn't. It was something else that botheredme and made my skin crawl. He was attractive, so much so that I almost forgot how dangerous he was. But then I remembered my uncle, and reality set in.

I put my hands on his chest, and he let me because he thought I was flirting with him. His eyes darkened with lust, which rooted me to my feet and made me acutely aware that we were in bed together.

He didn't lean in to kiss me. He waited as though he could make me do whatever he wanted.That arrogance of his snapped me out fast enough, and I pushed him. I pushed him as hard as my slimmer arms could, and Ethan finally moved.

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