Prologue
LAYLA
This had everything to do with him. The fact that my hands and feet were tied. My body feeling like it had been run over by a ten-ton truck. How my head felt as if a jackhammer had been pounding against my skull. My mouth so dry, my tongue felt like sandpaper.
Everything about this exact moment hadhisname written all over it. The fear crashing against every bone, the terror flowing through every vein. It was because ofhim. Because of one man.
“You don’t seem too comfortable over there.”
I lifted my head and glared at the son of a bitch sitting on a chair across from me, his face painfully familiar. “That’s very observant of you.”
His lips twitched, a grin starting at the edges. “I have a feeling this is going to be fun.”
My heart thudded against my ribs. “What’s going to be fun?”
“Using you.”
I swallowed hard. “Using me for what?”
He rose from his chair and buttoned his black suit jacket. Dark eyes stared at me, his wicked gaze causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. I watched him as he held out his hand, an unfamiliar man placing a pouch in his palm.
My gut felt like it had been filled with concrete, my lungs struggling to expand under the pressure of panic. But I never took my eyes off him.
While he pulled out a vial from the pouch, testing it, liquid squirting out of the thin needle, my heart started to creep up my throat.
“What is that? What is in that vial?”
A malicious smile was his only answer.
I tugged against the ropes keeping my arms tied to the armrests of the chair. The closer he came, the more I yanked and jerked against my restraints. He nodded toward someone behind me, and two strong hands grabbed my shoulders, keeping me in place. I whimpered, tears finally slipping down my cheeks. I’d never experienced fear like this.
I closed my eyes when I felt his hand wrap around my arm, the coldness of his touch turning my spine to ice.
“Using me for what?” I whispered, my voice quivering.
A sob rolled over my lips when I felt the needle pierce my skin, the burn spreading through my veins. Within seconds, the fight in me calmed, my mind slowly drifting off into a maze of incoherent thoughts, pictures and memories that made no sense.
“Using…me…for what?” My voice no longer sounded like my own, echoing from far, far away.
And then I heard another voice break through—a dark, menacing sound that shook me to the deepest part of my soul. “It’s going to be fun using you, Layla…to destroy him.”
No.
God, no.
Everything darkened, my body numb and weightless. But there was one word, one name that resonated through the shadows.
“Dante.”
Chapter 1
Dante
Four months later
I needed a new ceiling design. The circles and swirls were making me dizzy. Or maybe it was my brain telling me to fucking sleep. I’d been lying there for two hours staring at the ceiling, listening to the rhythmic breathing next to me.
It was them, the women—the sex that made it impossible for me to sleep. A few hours ago, the three of us were fucking like savages, the black silk sheets covered in sweat. Big round tits, curvy asses, and tight pussies entertained me all night long. One would think I would be exhausted enough to at least get a good night’s sleep. But no. Not me. Not since my mind always wandered into the past after I indulged in some good old-fashioned fuckery. The irony of it all—the only time I was able to forget the past was when I found myself balls deep inside pussy. Other than that, the memories clung to me like a disease, and all the unanswered questions mind-fucked me every goddamn day.