Chapter 23
“Idon’t think it’s necessary,” I blurt out in a moment of despair.
I don’t want him to leave my side, not even a few feet.
“I insist, my dear,” he says with a smirk, resting his hand over mine.
Adam moves in and plants his hand on the table right next to Leo’s, close enough to touch.
The bodyguards react fast, drawing their guns and aiming straight at his head again, but Adam doesn’t even glance at them. His focus is locked on Leo, like nothing else in the room matters.
“My instructions were clear. I was told to bring her back alive—and not kill you.” Adam leans closer. “But if you touch her again, I’ll make sure no one finds what’s left of you.”
“You’re a bold one,” Leo says, settling into his chair. He crosses one leg over the other, eyes never leaving Adam. “I can’t tell if it’s stupidity or guts driving that mouth, but either way, it’s entertaining.”
Adam gives a lazy half-smile, already bored of the conversation. “If you say so,” he says, his voice low. “It’ll make what I shove down your throat easier to swallow once you see how far I’ll go for her.”
Silence clamps down like a noose. The low hum of lounge music plays on.
Then Leo chuckles lazily. “I’m sure Calvano pays you enough.” He intertwines his fingers on the table. “But I pay more.”
Sloane presses the muzzle to his temple, but Adam doesn’t even wince.
“No!” I gasp.
“Calm down, dear,” Leo says. “This whole thing would have been avoided if he’d simply obeyed and stayed outside.”
Adam’s jaw twitches and his gaze darkens, but he remains still.
“Come on, pretty boy. I’m sure you and I can have fun without blown-up brains on the floor,” Sloane purrs quietly, cocking her head with a sickening smirk.
Eventually, Adam pushes himself back and steps up to the bar a few feet ahead of me. My breath catches in my throat as I watch him walk away. He’s the only one who can protect me, the only one willing to do so, and the only one I want to.
This whole thing was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.
Forcefully, I stand up, only to see Sloane’s gun aiming at him once again. He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t know it.
“Sit, sweetheart.” Leo gestures calmly. “Let the kids have fun.”
Figlio di puttana! Son of a bitch!
That smug bastard struts around like the world is his carcass to pick clean, convinced his money makes him untouchable.
Just like my father, he’s another man who thinks power is a birthright and everyone else is furniture, wearing proudly this cold belief that the rest of us exist only to be bent, broken, or ignored.
My ego is torn into pieces, but I do as he says. I take the fork between my fingers, pretending I’m interested in the food, when all I want to do is stab it in his eyeball. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding looking at him. Besides, I don’t see any point of this “date.”
He still hasn’t said a word, and I feel he’s doing in purpose. As if the only thing he wanted out of this circus was to see whether I, my father, or even Adam would obey him.
Eventually, my eyes rise, only to see him staring at me in the creepiest way I’ve ever known.
“You haven’t touched your food.”
“I’m not hungry,” I say, as least scornfully as I can.
He clicks his teeth as if he’s trying to take out some stuck food or something. “Eat what you’ve been given.”
I let out a resentful gasp, trying to contain myself and not explode. “You talk like I should be grateful.”
“You should.”
“Excuse me?”
He barely reacts. If anything, he looks bored—and that makes two of us.
“Don’t act surprised,” he says. “You’re not here by accident.”
I blink at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He wipes his mouth with a cotton napkin. “It means stop pretending you don’t understand your situation. Eat. Or don’t. Either way, you’re already spoken for.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He doesn’t reply again. He merely looks at me with that disgusting, wrinkled, smug face of his.
“Hey!” I snap my fingers in front of his face. “I asked you something, mister.”
He chuckles sinisterly. Then, apathetically, he takes out his phone and scrolls down on it, demonstrating how bored he already is. “In my day, beauty like yours came with a price. Your father’s a very reasonable man.”
I bang my hand on the table, causing the glasses to clink. “If you don’t tell me why the hell you called me here, I’m gonna leave right now.”
Slowly, he raises his eyes and looks at me over his phone screen. “I’m sure your pet doesn’t want to go now, does he?”
My eyes drift back to Adam. He’s … smiling at her. He’s actually smiling, like she’s the best thing he’s seen all night. She leans in, laughing at something he said, and her hand lands on his shoulder. And he lets it. He even leans a little closer.
Of course he likes her. Why wouldn’t he? She’s gorgeous, confident, built and sculpted just to be admired. And she knows exactly how to touch a man and make him like it. I’m sure she can please and pleasure him in ways I can’t.
I mean, how could a woman not like Adam?
The tattoos hidden beneath his long sleeves give him a serious, almost untouchable edge at first glance.
But the rings on his fingers and his slightly messy hair break through that control, clashing perfectly with the elegance of his tailored suit.
He’s the perfect mix of a bad boy and a dangerous gentleman.
My stomach twists hard enough to make me dizzy.
For a second, everything I told myself I needed him for just slips.
None of it matters. Not his help, not the plan, not the fact that I can’t do this without him.
All I feel is that sharp sting in my chest, and suddenly I am the pathetic one standing alone, invisible in a crowd, watching him give someone else all the attention I’ve been begging for in silence.
What the hell is this feeling?
It hits me like a blade to the ribs. It’s jealousy, I guess. I’ve never felt it before, and now it’s eating through me so fast I can barely breathe.
Why is it so consuming? Why does it feel like someone else’s hand is already on what should be mine?
I have to leave—now.