Page 99 of Kept

The woman looks between us, her lip curling. “Jesus. I’m not that bothered. Keep your little fuck toy.”

She steps back, but Enzo is there, and she squeaks as they collide. “What did you just call him?” he asks softly, and she blanches.

“Do you even know who I am?” She takes a step away from him, backing up towards the door. “He’s not worth the trouble, you know. He’s not that good of a fuck.”

I lunge, and glass flies everywhere as Maverick wraps his arms around me and pulls me back. “Zella. Enough.”

He looks at the woman. “If you don’t leave immediately, I will throw you out. Consider it a first and final warning.”

The woman slides out of the door, and I watch as Enzo sidles after her. He glances back at me with a question in his eyes, and I shake my head.

As horrible as she was, I don’t think she’s a candidate for his table.

Unfortunately.

Maverick releases me, and I spin around, my hands landing on either side of Ryder’s face. He swallows, his jaw flexing. “Why did you do that?” he asks quietly. “Why did you grab her wrist?”

“Because you didn’t want her to touch you,” I say slowly. He blinks, scrubbing his hands down his face with a harsh laugh.

“Sorry, princess. There’s no getting away from it sometimes.”

“Hey.” I lean in until he focuses on my face. “You said that I belong to you. Well, you belong to me too, Ryder. It doesn’t matter what that woman said.”

He sighs. “More than the sum of the people who made us, right?”

I nod. “She does not define you, Ryder. None of them get to decide who you are. Only you.”

He cracks a smile. “You’re like a little mini Yoda, you know.”

My brows crease. “What’s a yoda?”

He leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. “So many things to show you, little thief.”

“Little thief,” I whisper. “Why do you call me that?”

My heart flips over in my chest. I like it.

He presses his lips against mine, a soft caress. “One thief recognises another. You stole my heart the first time I saw you, Zella. You and that damn wok.”

“It was the only thing I had,” I protest weakly, but my heart is singing. “And I apologized!”

His laugh shakes his whole body. “Never apologize. I’m putting a wok in every room. Those things are lethal.”

He pulls away from me slowly, giving me a reassuring smile as he stands. “I’ll be back.”

I take another sip from my champagne, and glance around. Enzo is still hovering in the back, and Maverick is sitting silently across from us, his eyes on the dancefloor and his hand wrapped around a glass of amber liquid.

He looks over when I shift. “Do you need anything?”

Silently, I shake my head, pressing my knees together and gripping them. “You don’t like it here, do you?”

He holds out his hand, and I glance at it questioningly. “Come here, Zella,” he says softly.

I’m on my feet before my brain fully catches up, and as I reach him, he tugs me down into his lap, setting his glass down and curling his hand around my thigh. “I don’t hate it. What makes you say that?”

I study the long, fluted glass in my hands. “I can tell. You don’t look as comfortable here as you do at home.”

He captures my chin, turning me to face him so I can’t hide my face. “Is that how you think of the house? As home?”

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