“Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?” He gives one of his sinful smiles before he takes a long swallow of the cabernet.
“Does it matter?” I finally manage to squeak out. “I should have assumed you’d come for me.”
“Interesting fact,” he says, taking another drink. “I got wind from one of my sources at JFK that Sasha Morelli had booked a trip to Italy. She had a direct flight to Florence.” He leans toward the table and tops off his glass with more wine. “The interesting part of this story is that I got this tidbit of information as Harrison was speaking face-to-face with Sasha.” He taps the glass with his fingertips and chuckles. “Funny. How could she be on a flight to Italy and in Bishop’s Landing at the same time?”
I can’t read him no matter how hard I try. I can’t tell if he’s angry—
But of course he’s angry. He doesn’t show it at all. Nick Hudson is a master at hiding his emotions with that smile of his.
I ready myself for the fury that is about to be unleashed on me as he stands up and closes the distance between us.
“I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just felt—”
His laugh cuts through my poor excuse of an apology and every ounce of bravado I can muster.
“I’m intrigued by you,” he says. “I can’t decide if you are extremely intelligent, or extremely stupid.”
His words feel like a slap to the face. His harshness and coldness breaks my heart because I never intended for any of this. If I could turn back time… But my pride also emerges, and my anger from being insulted simmers to the surface. I stiffen my spine and decide to speak my thoughts rather than squash them. “I feel the same about you. Intrigued.” I tilt my head, knowingly taunting. “Intelligent or stupid? You made it easy for me. I simply walked out the door.”
I have no idea why I’m rattling the cage of the beast. Why would I provoke this man? Why would I play with the devil when he’s only a few inches away from me?
He laughs again. “I’ll give you that, my dear. I was quite foolish in believing you wouldn’t try to escape. I was the fool, and I’m man enough to admit it.”
Something shifts—for the briefest of moments—in his demeanor. A flicker of sadness? A dash of pain in his eyes?
But as quickly as I see a change, he morphs back to the Nick Hudson I first met when we began this twisted tango of dark promises and threats.
“And why should I have stayed?” I ask, faking the toughest bravado that I can. “Because you signed a contract with a pen in my ass?” I huff and roll my eyes. “Hardly legal and binding.” I narrow my eyes on him. “I’m free to go wherever I choose to, and whenever I want to. You’re wasting your time here. I have no intention of leaving.”
Saying the words nearly sear my tongue. My heart tightens at the idea of Nick leaving without me, but the truth of the matter is he’s in danger being here. I left for a reason, and that reason was to keep him safe. Nothing has changed.
He laughs loudly, cuts it off midway, and then his face hardens. Deadly. Vengeful. And frankly, the most terrifying darkness seems to wash over him. This is the same person who almost cut off a man’s fingers in Wonderland. This is the man who kidnapped me and had me tied in his wine cellar. This is the man that I feared.
And right now… I’m suddenly really fucking scared.
I don’t need to worry about him… I need to worry about me.
“I misread you,” he begins. “I didn’t give you credit for being ruthless.”
“Ruthless?” I’ve been called many things, but never ruthless. I smirk to attempt to hide the quiver in my lip. “You have that one covered. Not me.”
“Oh, you are extremely ruthless. Did you not think of Dylan? His safety? His life?” He rubs his fingers over the ruby on top of his cane. “If you are intelligent rather than stupid, then you clearly did think of him and what would happen as retaliation for you breaking our contract. Which tells me you are ruthless. Casting your brother off…” He shakes his head and laughs. “…fucking ruthless.”
I freeze, prepared to fall to my knees and beg if I have to. No… no… oh God, what have I done?
His darkening eyes scan my face, lower down my body and then center on my eyes. “Did you choose yourself over your brother? Over your cousin? Did you not think there would be consequences?”
A sickness settles in my gut. “You wouldn’t do anything to them. That’s not the kind of game you play.”
“You changed the rules. We’ve started a new game now.”
His words are a slap to the face, a splash of cold water waking me to my new reality.
“Dylan?” My voice cracks. “Did you hurt him?”
He doesn’t answer. He just watches me.
I take a step closer, not sure if I should shatter into a million pieces and plead, or if I should wrap my hands around his neck and attempt to squeeze the life out of him.