“You can go.” The sooner he’s out of my sight, the better for him.
Delilah, however, thinks I’m speaking to both of them. She starts to follow him to the door, freezing when I clear my throat. “No. Not you. We have more to discuss.” Marcel leaves without a backward glance. What a fucking surprise. He doesn’t give a shit about the fact that he might’ve gotten her in trouble. Too busy thinking about himself.
The moment he’s out of the room, she whirls around. “You can’t blame me for this.”
“Excuse me?” Standing, I glare at her until she shrinks back. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I can see that asshole getting an attitude. He’s not as intimately acquainted with me as you are.”
She begins to back away as I advance, and that’s good. It satisfies me. When she’s afraid and under my control.
“You should know better,” I murmur. “Just as you should know better than to make friends around here. Let me spare you the trouble. Nobody around here wants to be your friend, nor do you deserve any.”
She reaches the door, her back pressed to it. For one brief second, her hand grazes the knob like she’s considering making a run for it. I almost wish she’d try. All the more reason for me to make her beg for mercy.
“I was only talking with him about class,” she whispers, her chin quivering. “What did Quinton tell you?”
“You assume this has anything to do with him?” I take one slow step after another, eliminating the distance between us. Her breathing picks up speed, as does mine.
But she holds her head high, just the same. “I’m not as stupid as everybody thinks. I know it has to do with him. He’s the one who made a big deal about it.”
“Did you ever stop to think he has a good reason?”
“I had nothing to do with what happened to his wife,” she spits. “And he ought to know it by now. What else do I have to do to prove that?”
She stiffens when I reach out and brush my fingers over her throat, where her pulse flutters like mad. “You’re all worked up. Why is that? Because you know you’re lying?”
“No.”
“From what I heard, that Marcel kid wanted to be an insider with the Valentines.”
“Did he?” She raises an eyebrow. “How would I know anything about that?”
“You can’t imagine him ingratiating himself with you as a result?”
“Considering everybody’s dead, how would that make any difference?”
Always an answer for everything. I’m going to break her. If it’s the last thing I ever do, I will make her wish she had never challenged me.
My hand closes around her throat. She doesn’t flinch or tremble—if anything, it seems she was waiting for it. Her body relaxes. Obviously, I haven’t gotten my point across.
Tightening my grip, I cut off the blood flow to her brain and watch with glee as the panic finally reaches her eyes. Her fingers wrap around my wrist, trying to pull me away, but that only makes me hold on tighter.
Using my hold on her neck, I spin her around and start walking her to my desk. Only when her face turns a hue of blue do I release the pressure on her jugular vein.
“What are you—”
“Shut up. No talking from you. Just nod or shake your head when you are asked a question.”
Her whole body jolts when her ass bumps into the edge of my desk. I guide her body to lay flat on the surface, never releasing her throat.
“Are you flirting with other guys to make me jealous?”
Confusion flashes over her face before she slightly shakes her head no. Lucky for her, I actually believe her.
“Either way, I think you need a reminder of who this pussy belongs to.”
Using my other hand, I make quick work of unbuttoning my pants and freeing my hard cock.
“Pull down your leggings and panties,” I order while stroking myself.