“Who are you?” I whisper.
A devious smile forms on his lips. “Come now, kitten. Don’t play dumb. You know who I am.”
“A mobster.” The word rolls off my tongue like a secret finally spoken out loud.
The silence that follows is deafening. The only perpetual noise is his fingers tapping against each other.
Marcello leans back in his seat again. “Then you know what I’m capable of.”
My lip twitches. He didn’t deny it, so it’s true. “Is that a threat?”
His brows rise playfully. “Perhaps.”
“Oh, please,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You still haven’t answered my first question. Why me? As a mafioso, you can get any girl you want. You’ve got money, right?”
“I don’t want a girl who’s only after my money,” he says.
I make a face. “But you also know the way to a girl’s heart can never be won by force.”
He takes in a deep breath and pauses before answering. “Touché, kitten. Perhaps I’ll try with food, then.”
A faint smile forms on my lips, but it disappears quickly. Two men walk in that I don’t recognize, but they don’t seem bothered by my presence, just like the other staff I’ve met so far. Marcello’s really paying them well for them to accept the fact he takes women as prisoners.
They bring plates with copious amounts of food to the table and neatly place it down between us. My mouth waters, but I’m not going to touch it. What if it’s poisoned? What if they only mean to drug me again until I faint, and Marcello can have his way with me?
Marcello picks up some salmon and cuts it into thin pieces, spearing a piece. He brings it to his mouth like it’s a little cloud of heaven, and it almost makes me jealous to watch him eat. And he knows it. He revels in it.
“Are you not going to eat?” he asks.
“I’m not hungry,” I lie without blinking.
He knows I’m hungry because I can see him smile.
“Of course you are. They didn’t feed you on that boat. You must be starving.” He grabs a plate of chicken and slides it my way across the table. The scent almost sets me off into a ravenous binge, but I stop myself by closing my eyes and breathing through my mouth instead.
“C’mon now, kitten. It’s not poisoned,” he jests.
“It might be,” I retort.
He laughs. It’s the first real, genuine laugh he’s given me. “You know, I’ve been accused of many things but never poisoning women.” He puts down his fork. “Poison is a woman’s method of murder.” He reaches for his belt, and I hold my breath when he pulls out a gun and places it on the table. “Men like to be a bit more obvious.”
“So, what do you want?” I mutter, staring at the gun as though it could go off at any moment.
“If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already,” he says with a stern look on his face. “Relax. Don’t be so uptight.”
That’s easy for him to say. He’s in charge, ruling over his little kingdom with me as his pet. And I’ve never felt more out of balance and out of control than now.
“Eat something. It’s good for you, I promise,” he says.
“So you can drug me?” I snarl.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Why would I want to do that?”
“So you can have your way with me,” I add.
He smirks. “Kitten, I can have you any way I want, whenever I want.”
My heart almost beats out of my chest, and I swear my pussy thumped from those words, but I willfully ignore it.
“I will never resort to drugging you. I have plenty of other ways to make you get on your knees.”
When he looks up from his food and gazes at me with that same hungry, seductive look, all the moments we’ve shared together—him touching my leg, his tongue brushing over my neck, and the fact that we almost kissed—flash through my mind. My legs squeeze together in an effort to keep the lust at bay.
“Trust me,” he says after a while.
“Trust? You’re asking me to trust you?” I say through gritted teeth.
I can’t believe he’d ask that. As if I could ever trust a mobster.
“That’s how relationships are built,” he replies.
I make a face and shake my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Believe what you want, kitten, but I’ve never and will never resort to poisoning or drugging any girl, let alone you. You’re special to me.”
“Oh, yeah?” I rub my lips together. “Then how did you bring me to this mansion? By drugging me.” I grab a fork and stick it into the chicken just to make a point.
He shifts in his seat. “That was different. I had to bring you to safety, out of the claws of the Russians, which you must understand.”