Chapter 7 Athena
ATHENA
I'm going to get out of this.
Somehow. Some way.
I repeat it like a mantra in my head even as the rope burns sting my wrists as I shift in the chair.
Ten minutes. Fifteen? I've lost track of how long he's been gone.
The house creaks around me, wind whistling through cracks in the stone.
My shoulders ache from being pulled back, and my throat feels raw from screaming obscenities after he walked away.
The bastard didn't even flinch. Didn't even come back from wherever the hell he went behind me.
Finally, footsteps approach from the hallway. I straighten in the chair as best I can.
Dimitri returns, his face expressionless. Not angry. Just in control.
I hate that more than anything.
I can handle rage. I can handle violence. I can handle the kind of men who want to hurt me or scare me because it pushes me to react.
But this... it's harder. It makes me think too much.
And on top of all that, he doesn't even look at me now, and that pisses me off the most.
I'm sitting here in nothing but oversized clothes, with rope binding my ankles and wrists, my heart hammering against my ribs like it's trying to break out.
And he's ignoring me as he moves around the room.
Like I'm nothing.
He leaves again and returns. This time, I see a bottle of water in his hand. No knife visible, but that doesn't mean anything.
He unscrews the cap and stops in front of me, towering. "Thirsty?"
I glare up at him. "I'm fine."
"You're lying," he says, bringing the bottle to my lips. "Drink."
I turn my head away. "Fuck off."
He shrugs and sets the water on the floor beside me. "Suit yourself."
He's right. My tongue feels like sandpaper, but I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me need anything.
I press my knees together and rotate my head from side to side. My skin still burns from where his knife touched it, from where his hand gripped my throat.
I can still feel the heat of his body when he pressed me to the wall.
I hate how aware of him I still am.
Focus. I can't be so wrapped up in all my emotions if I want to live and break free.
Then, I hear my mother's voice:
"Men are simple creatures, Athena. They think with their cocks. Make them want you and you can make them do anything."
It always worked before.
I take a slow breath and shift in the chair, adjusting my posture and arching my back slightly. I let the baggy shirt fall off one shoulder as I slide my legs slightly apart, giving him something to focus on after I get his attention.
His gaze flicks to the exposed skin, then away.
Nothing.
Not a lingering stare. No twitch. No flicker of interest.
He's just standing near the window now, looking out.
I lean forward slightly, letting the shirt gape at the neck.
Still nothing.
My confidence is turning to frustration.
Why isn't this working?
Any other man would've already been circling me, licking his lips, creating small talk. Something.
But Dimitri doesn't even blink.
"Are you going to stare out the window all night?" I snap, letting irritation lace my tone. "Or are you too afraid to face me now that you're not chained?"
No reaction.
I press harder but remind myself I'm trying to seduce him, not piss him off.
"You know," I say, softening my voice, "this could go a lot easier for both of us."
No response.
I clear my throat to get his attention while still leaning forward as much as the ropes allow. "Untie me, and I'll make it worth your while."
"No."
"You don't even know what I'm offering." I spread my legs as wide as I can. "I've been told I'm very talented."
Silence.
Motherfucker.
"What's wrong? Not man enough to handle me without the ropes?" I taunt, injecting honey into my voice.
"Maybe you're just a coward after all. Big bad Dimitri Kastaris. Hides behind ropes and knives."
His head tilts slightly.
Finally. Something.
I hate this more than if he'd hit me.
"Or maybe..." I say, voice dropping to something sultry, "you're just trying to prove you're stronger than your cock. Is that it? You cut my dress off and now you're afraid if you touch me again you'll lose control."
He grabs another chair and drags it across the floor, placing it a few feet in front of me before taking a seat.
He just stares at me with those stupid blue eyes.
"I saw how you looked at me in that dress," I continue, growing desperate to break through that stillness. "I know you want me."
Still, he doesn't speak. His silence slices through me sharper than his knife.
He leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest, head tilting. Watching. Waiting.
"Fuck. Say something, you bastard," I say, my frustration coming out finally.
"You think your body is a weapon," he says finally. "It's not."
Heat floods my cheeks. "Worked well enough to drug you at the wedding, didn't it?"
He nods. "You've been taught to use what you have. I understand that. Me too," he says, leaning forward and resting his right elbow on his knee.
"Don't pretend to understand anything about me." My voice rises, the honey evaporating. "You know nothing."
"Look, you can strip naked right here," he says. "Wouldn't change a thing. You drugged me. Tried to kill me or have me killed. And now you think a little sultry tone and your come-fuck-me eyes will save you?"
I stare daggers at him. If looks could kill, I'm pretty sure he'd fall over in that chair right about now.
"You're not in control here," he says. "I am." He just looks at me. Still as a predator. I hate how he refuses to rise to my bait.
God, I hate him.
I want him dead.
So why does my heart pound like this under his watchful eyes and his close presence?
"You know what else I know?" he continues. "You're smart, Alepoudítsa. I'll give you that. I mean, you fooled me. So whoever told you your only value is what's between your legs did you a disservice."
"I don't need your analysis," I snap, yanking against my restraints.
The ropes hold. Dimitri doesn't move.
Shit. No one's ever spoken to me like this. I don't like it.
"What the hell do you want from me?" I shout.
Dimitri reaches forward suddenly. I flinch, but his fingers brush the hair out of my face. His touch burns against my skin.
"Answers," he says, pulling a gun out and resting it on his lap. "So let's begin."