Luciana
I didn’t move from the spot on the floor.
My stomach growled as I stared at the open door and the empty hall. The house felt haunted, forlorn; there was a heaviness to it that managed to suck the life right out of a person.
Everything about it screamed enough money to buy an island for every friend of the family, but it was half empty, and what furniture I had seen was either covered in plastic, or broken.
What the heck had I gotten myself into?
I contemplated calling the police.
My fingers had hovered over my cell screen for at least ten minutes before I finally put my phone away and continued to wait.
Because what was I going to say? “My employer, the one paying me an obscene amount of money that I’m now realizing he most likely got illegally, just pulled a gun on me. Send help?”
Plus, the phone in my hand had just been given to me. I suspected there was a reason I wasn’t allowed to use my old phone, mainly because he was going to track every single conversation I had.
I was a logical person.
Rational.
Until I walked in that door and saw my life flash before my eyes.
It was unfortunate he was so gorgeous.
Then again, even his inked skin and blue eyes couldn’t cover up the monster lurking beneath. He’d threatened me, yelled at me, made me feel unsafe and unwanted.
Ugly.
Stupid.
All within the span of six minutes.
The sound of a door slamming jolted me out of my pity party long enough for me to start to panic again as footsteps neared. I could feel my heart racing beneath my chest as I counted the steps.
One.
Two.
Three.
Pause.
I lifted my head.
Chase stopped directly in front of the doorway and braced on it with both hands gripping the sides. His middle finger and pinky both had black inky tattoos on them in Italian. I couldn’t make out the script, but they stuck out against his tan skin and the white walls he was currently clutching as if he was seconds away from snapping the wood in half, or maybe just the door.
“You.” His blue eyes jerked to mine in such a jarring, hateful way that I almost made a run for it; probably would have if I hadn’t been trapped in a small room with him blocking the exit. “You didn’t move.”
Was that a question?
I gulped.
“Why?”
Was he crazy? I licked my lips and answered in a small voice. “Because you said not to.” Dumbass. Was this guy for real?
“I had you pegged as a more defiant type.” He waved his hand in front of me and then turned around and started walking away. “Keep up.”
I stumbled after him and nearly ran into him when he stopped in the middle of the hall and turned around.
I was still barefoot.
“There’s glass.” He pointed to the floor.
“Okay.” I turned to grab my shoes when he suddenly heaved me over his shoulder and stomped down the hall as if it was completely normal to manhandle employees.
My ass was pressed against his right cheek.
Great.
I looked down.
His ass, on the other hand…
Firm.
He clearly didn’t miss a squat day.
A black handgun was tucked in his jeans.
I gulped.
Guns freaked me out in a very serious way.
So the fact that he casually waved one around and kept one on his person made me so nauseated I almost puked down his back.
He walked a few more feet then set me down and jerked open a door. “This is where you’ll be working.”
About twenty different screens faced us; it was like the inner workings of a control room.
The screens showed the back of the house and several of the rooms and common areas.
“Okay.” I nodded. Freak. Did he have a camera in my room, too? I made a mental note to only change in the bathroom. Then again, someone like him? Constantly armed? Probably had cameras in the freaking shower. “Is there a computer I can—”
“A computer will be provided,” he interrupted. “Those…” There were at least seven free-standing metal files. “…are all the old records of transactions, payments, court cases, pay offs—”
Did he just say pay offs?
“—everything you need to know about our business dealings and our past is in these files. This key…” He held out an old-school-looking key. “…is how you access them. If you make a copy of it, I’ll slit your throat.”
He looked as if he meant it.
With shaking hands, I took the key. “Noted.”
He crossed his bulky arms. “I don’t want you here, but I also don’t have much of a choice, unless I feel like killing the boss and taking his spot.” He didn’t even flinch at the idea, just smiled down at me.
Did he say boss?
“I suggest you get started.”
He turned to leave.
“Wait!”
His back flexed beneath his shirt before he turned to look over his shoulder. “Yes?”
I had so many questions.
Mainly, was I allowed bathroom breaks and food?
“I’ll need sleep. Bathroom breaks. Food. Water…” I tried to steady my voice. “You can’t just assume I’m going to lock myself up in here until I finish.”
“Of course I can.” He smiled.
I hated that smile.
It was spiteful.
Smug.
It was also gorgeous.
Beautifully cruel.
As if he only smiled to mock people, never to convey joy or laughter. What the hell had happened to this beautiful man to make him so cold and bitter?
“And if I don’t? Do I get my throat slit? Or will you just pull that gun on me again?”
“See.” He performed a slow clap. “You’re getting the hang of it. This is my house, my world, my business. I don’t want you existing in any of the air around me. As far as you’re concerned, I own it. I own you. Finish the damn job, and then you can leave.”
“That’s—” I clenched my fists. “—that’s abuse!”
His eyes flashed. “You don’t know the first thing about abuse. Try not to throw around words you aren’t capable of understanding.”
Fear trickled down my spine.
This man. He would hurt me.
It was in every fiber of his body, in the way he carried himself. He didn’t make light, empty threats.
He meant every word.
“I’ll… try,” I finally managed, when all I wanted to do was yell at him for being such a jackass. I suddenly wished I had taken karate so I could at least make him hurt and make a run for it. Was this punishment from Nikolai? Was this why I got paid so much?
Because I was going to end up dead anyway?
At least from starvation and lack of sleep.
“Bathroom.” Chase pointed to the right. “And the only reason I’m even allowing bathroom breaks is because I don’t want your filth getting all over a room that cost me over a million dollars to set up.”
I frowned and looked around. “But it’s just cameras and—”
He held up a finger. “First off, don’t insult the room. It’s rude.” A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. “And things aren’t always what they seem.”
He left it at that.
Left me.
With all the files.
And when I stopped hearing his footsteps down the hall, I finally released a few tears and slunk to the floor.
Trapped.
In a prison I’d signed up for.
And afraid for my life.