Page 69 of Stolen

“Go ahead. Then you’ll have two pains in the asses to deal with,” I retorted.

Why I said that, I didn’t know, but I didn’t fucking believe him. It was too petty for him. I was sure Jordan was going out of her mind with worry, and it pissed me off that he had been monitoring my personal life so closely, violating me further. But then again, I wasn’t exactly surprised. I was sure he knew a lot more about me than I wanted him to.

“Do not challenge me, little slave. You know I’m a man of my word.”

“And I’m a woman of mine,” I choked out.

He slowly rose from his chair, pulling me up by my throat with him.

“Do you want to know what the saddest part of all my research was? That poor excuse for a man you called a boyfriend.”

Motherfucker.

He was really pushing it now. Especially as he presented the statement in a past tense form as if my captivity automatically severed all my current relationships.

“Maybe I should pay him a visit as well and put him out of his misery? I’m sure he’d appreciate me alleviating the pain from his obvious broken heart. It’s not like you’ll ever be seeing him again, anyway.”

Fear put me back in my place. After what I’d already seen this man do, the resources he had, and the clear lack of remorse in his eyes, I didn’t want him anywhere near Jason.

Jason had never killed anyone before, but I’d seen him in plenty of bar fights. I knew he could always handle himself. I sometimes felt bad for the guys he wiped the floor with who tried to challenge him. Jason was a damn good fighter and a fucking animal when it came to protecting me, but I knew if it came down to it, he’d absolutely pull that trigger if he had to. Zero fucking doubt.

But that didn’t mean I wanted his next challenge to be this fucking guy.

“Touch him and I swear to God it’ll be the biggest mistake you ever make,” I threatened.

The owner responded with an amused scoff before releasing a devious chuckle that made my entire body shudder. All I had to do was lift my leg, and I could kick his balls halfway up his spine.

“Cute,” he stated. “But also incredibly stupid, considering you have no idea who the fuck I am or what I’m really capable of.”

“I don’t care!” I nearly shouted. “I stand by my words. Who you are makes no difference to me. You’re all the fucking same anyway, and sooner or later, someone else will eventually come along and knock whatever crown you think you’re wearing right off that arrogant head of yours.”

The smile that slowly curved up his lips made my quaking insides turn to molten lava, melting my resolve with a power that should belong to no one. It was unfathomable how terrifying this man’s smile could actually be.

“Keep talking, princess. You’re making this decision easier and easier by the second,” he said, his voice smooth and dark, distracting me from the warning he was trying to give.

“What decision?”

He didn’t answer and instead drew his forefinger gently along the side of my face, his eyes following the burning trail he’d left behind, making my body shudder in response.

“What decision?” I repeated, my anxiety getting the better of me. What did he mean by that?

“Shhhh,” he hushed me, his demeanor now appearing relaxed and patient. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Panic began to eat away at me at those words. When? When would I find out? Tomorrow? Next week? Days from now? What was he going to do? Publicly execute me? Finally make a true example out of me? Go after Jason or Jordan?

Fuck!

Attempting to quell the terror growing inside me, I tried to focus on other things, like how amazing it was knowing that even if he did kill me, at least I’d left my handwork behind for him to admire in the mirror.

His massive body came closer then, blocking out everything else in my sight until I saw nothing but his broad chest wrapped in a pretty package. His grip on my throat loosened, no longer life-threatening, but just…possessive.

“I can see how difficult this is for you,” he said above my head, his thumb traveling up the column of my throat. “I can admire your self-control, as well as your courage. But I can still see that fire in your eyes. You'd love nothing more than to lash out at me again, but you won't. You know better now.”

Fuck him, but I did. Mainly because I knew he loved my defiance. It gave him the excuse he wanted to hurt me and to put me back in my place. But if not fighting denied him any sort of satisfaction, then maybe that was what I would do. That was the only way I could get back at him. Blatant indifference.

“Still...” he continued, “I can’t help but wonder how much Hellfire you’ve got packed away in that tiny body of yours. And what you could do with it if given the chance.”

I narrowed my gaze at him in suspicion. What the fuck was this? An invitation to burn his ass alive? Gladly.

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