The wind howled and my hair flew around my shoulders. He came at me again, clearly not even bothered about the fact that he had just shot a gun inside and shattered the window in his really expensive penthouse. It was like it hadn’t even transpired.
He swayed back and forth as he moved closer to me. His expression was demanding. Expectant. Arrogantly entitled.
He grabbed my upper arms and gripped the collar of my dress. He swung his arm back and my dress ripped down the front, the black lacy inlay decimated under the brute force of his attack.
“I said I wanted you naked, so you’re going to be naked,” he threatened.
No. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t allow it.
He may be rich and a condescending prick, but he wasn’t going to take my body without my consent. I had to fight back even though I was terrified.
I grabbed his shoulders. He smiled, taking it as my acquiescence, but it wasn’t. Instead of curling into his drunk embrace, I brought my knee up hard straight into his nuts. The high-pitched sound of pain was satisfying as he crumpled to the floor right in front of me. He rounded forward and cupped himself, as if that could make him feel any better.
“You have no right, asshole. You can’t just buy a girl a few drinks and expect her to put out,” I shrieked.
He started to laugh.
I got scared.
“If you run, I’m going to destroy you. You have no idea what you’ve stumbled into, little bitch. You’ve entered a whole new world and you don’t even know it’s over for you yet.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
Was this crazy talk? What the hell was he saying and what did that even mean?
He stood back up, rounding on me. I took a couple of steps backwards, but before I knew it, I reached the wall behind me and he used his body to block the pathway to the door. That left the only way out about thirty-five stories down through the shattered window.
“There’s nowhere for you to go. There’s nowhere for you to hide. My people knew your name before you even walked into that bar. They know the names of your parents, of any of your siblings and exactly where they live. There’s isn’t even the smallest detail about you they won’t know, including where your friends are right now. I know everything.”
I stilled.
“What about my friends?” I whispered.
“You don’t think it was by chance that the two of us ended up in the same bar by ourselves tonight, do you?”
“I didn’t realize...” I whispered, trying to come to terms with what he was telling me.
“Think about that before you try to run. Now take off your dress,” he demanded.
I stared at him, both angry and scared at the nonsense coming out of his mouth.
“Who are you?” I asked once more.
“My name is Vincenzo Santaro,” he answered cockily.
“And who exactly is that?” I pressed, trying to keep him busy so he didn’t focus on hurting me or taking what he thought was his to take.
“A very powerful name,” he answered evasively.
I scoffed in response.
“If you say a word about what is about to happen, I’ll end you. I’ll destroy your life. Those tickets back to America you already bought will be gone. Every single one of your friends will disappear and it will be your fault,” he threatened, slurring heavily once more now that the pain from my knee to his balls had likely faded to a dull roar.
My chest rose and fell with an eerie combination of anger and fear. I tried to reconcile with the words he was saying, but it just sounded crazy. No one had that kind of power.
“Are you a mobster or something? A mafia boss of some sort?” I asked, furrowing my brow as I tried to process the slurred threats.
“No. More powerful than that,” he smirked.