Page 27 of Bitter Queen (Advantage Play 4)

“Is she giving you any trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Sounds good. I’ll upload the movies to Matteo’s online theater system as soon as they’re ready. You should be able to play them on any of the TVs connected to his internet.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Then I hang up and take a hot shower, while the haunted look in Q’s eyes plagues me. She’s so hot then cold that I don’t know how to handle her, and it’s slowly chipping away at my sanity.

9

Q

I’m fuming. I have been for the past forty-five minutes. Pretty sure the lush carpet beneath my bare feet is going to get track marks if I keep this pacing up for much longer, but I can’t help it. Something about his comment pissed me off.

It made me miss the old me. Gave me an inkling of what it felt like to feel normal before realizing it was ripped away from me and left me spiraling out of control with no identity and no idea how to move forward.

Knock, knock.

Chewing on my lower lip, I stare at the piece of solid oak that I can’t make myself close before marching toward it and wrenching the damn thing the rest of the way open.

“Dinner’s ready,” D announces as if our little confrontation from earlier didn’t even happen. But maybe that’s how mafia men settle their arguments when they can’t shoot someone to get their way. By pretending they never happened in the first place.

His hair is still wet from his shower, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch it. He just looks so…human right now. So normal. So not like the big bad mafia bear I’ve grown accustomed to. My heart continues its frantic pace but for an entirely different reason that I refuse to acknowledge.

“Would you like to come downstairs and eat it with me?” he prods. It’s a request, not a demand. Grudgingly, I acknowledge his effort to make me feel comfortable but can’t decide what to actually do about it.

“Please?” he adds before tacking on a crooked smirk that would’ve made the old me melt into a puddle at his feet.

I would’ve been a shy mess around him before I was taken. I would’ve probably run in the opposite direction because the guy oozes sex, confidence, and bad decisions. But that wouldn’t have stopped me from crushing on him from a distance. He just…has this charisma that could be so addictive if I allowed myself to taste it.

But the new me would never do that, and the old me would’ve been too terrified by his bad boy demeanor to try.

“Come on, Blue. It’ll be fun. I might even have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t like surprises. Not anymore.”

“You’ll like this one. I promise.”

I used to love surprises. Now, I’m not so sure anymore. But it’s the pleading in his gaze that finally does me in and convinces me to step into the hallway.

I bite the inside of my cheek and mutter, “Fine.”

His eyes flash with surprise before he covers it with a warm smile. “Perfect.”

The silence is deafening as we walk down to the kitchen, where a white paper bag is resting on the counter. He grabs it but keeps walking. “Follow me.”

Leading me down a winding hall on the main floor, then down a set of stairs into the basement, he opens a door on his right and motions to the dark room. My heart rate is off the charts, but I try to calm the hell down as I take in the space.

It’s a theater room. There’s a large screen on one wall with a projector hanging in the center of the ceiling and a few rows of recliner chairs and loveseats placed on ascending platforms to the back of the room.

It’s…legit.

Licking my lips, I scan the area a few more times to remind myself that this basement is literally nothing like the one I was imprisoned in. Well, other than the fact that it’s in the basement.

“You okay?” I can feel him inspecting me, watching me to see if I’m about to snap and lose my damn mind more than I already have. And the fact that he’s already learning to anticipate my mental breakdowns is…depressing. And a little impressive. He might even know me better than myself.

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