was a scared little girl, she found a way to use her situation to her advantage in an attempt to make an escape.
A futile one.
We both know she’s never escaping.
And yet, she still tried, knowing she’d get caught. Knowing I’d punish her pretty ass for her grave mistake. My dick, still hard and aching in my slacks, has me eager to murder this person who’s come into my home shooting, so I can get back to toying with my little pet.
With each step down the stairs, I listen for the intruder. So I don’t get myself shot, I make three quick clicks of my tongue. The sound is mirrored from somewhere close, like the living room, and a little farther into the kitchen. Now that I’ve located my men, I need to find where this person is.
A crunch can be heard near the entryway, but as I reach the bottom step and peek around, no one is there. Just broken glass littering the floor and the door standing wide open.
Hyde comes into view from the dining room. I motion to him and then wherever Roscoe must be and indicate they need to check the perimeter of the house in case the perp got back out.
I creep down the hallway and head toward my office, since that’s the only door that’s open. My ears are on alert as I listen for sounds. Inside the office, nothing is amiss. I check the closet and under the desk before I make my way back into the hallway.
I’m about to check another room when I hear a cry of surprise from upstairs. Then, heavy footsteps before a door slams. I stalk up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
No one comes to my home.
No one knows where I live.
If I want them here, I lead them here.
This has Silas Westwood written all over it.
The stupid bastard thinks he can outplay me, but he’s sadly mistaken. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. He might have been able to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes and make them think he was a powerful badass, but I’ll always see him for the weak asshole he is. The one who thought he could take from the Vitale name and go unpunished.
Foolish fucking man.
Earlier, I went to his home myself. As my men said, there was nothing of use. I did, however, notice the man parked down the street watching our every move. Westwood must think I’m an idiot.
I usually take extreme precautions to make sure no one follows me to my home. This time, I led them to my front door. And Silas fucking Westwood fell for it.
Unfortunately, his old ass isn’t here. He’ll send his goons, but eventually, I’ll draw him out. I’m certain of it.
I reach the top of the steps and peek into Melody’s room. She’s gone. Her blanket remains. My heart tightens inside my chest. If they took her, I will burn down this city until I have her back in my arms. This shit goes beyond revenge and proving who has the bigger set of balls.
She’s my prize.
I’ve lived my life working my ass off and having her here means I can enjoy the fruit of my labor. I almost got to bite into that juicy, nearly forbidden apple, when my day was ruined by this trespasser.
“Be quiet,” a voice hisses from my bedroom. “I’m trying to help you.”
I stride into my room, my Glock raised and pointed at the trespasser. The man wears a black ski mask and all black clothes. In his arms is a naked, quivering girl. His palm covers her mouth and the other one holds a knife to her neck.
My girl.
Mine to punish and taunt and keep.
Westwood and I made a deal, one he obviously decided he wants to renege on. Some contracts can’t be torn up, though. This one can only be broken by spilling blood. And he’s a fool if he thinks he’ll ever get the chance.
“Did her daddy send you?” I ask, my voice low as I quickly skim her lovely flesh, looking for injuries I didn’t inflict.
“Not here to negotiate,” the guy says. “Just doing my job. Now move or I cut her pretty throat.” The knife in his grip glints as he pokes it into her neck.
Ignoring him, I inch closer, forcing the guy to back up near the window. A crimson rivulet of blood races down her neck. My mouth waters to run my tongue up her salty flesh and