Chapter 2
2
I twirl my key chain around my finger while circling the Range Rover, unsure of my plans for Pippa. I didn’t have take someone’s hot-as-fuck daughter as collateral on my agenda for today.
Pippa should consider herself lucky she got me and not Vinny. His psycho ass would’ve played games with her and not been so gentle. He and his brother, Antonio, usually deal with debt situations, but they’re out today.
Well, Antonio is out.
No one knows where the fuck Vinny has been for the past week.
When they’re unavailable, that responsibility falls in my lap.
Thank fuck it did today.
I unlock the SUV, slide behind the wheel, and inhale Pippa’s sweet floral perfume.
“Do you live with your father?” I ask, starting the engine.
“No,” she snaps.
“What’s your address?”
“I’m not telling you. As a matter of fact, let me out of here.” She presses the lock .
It doesn’t make a sound or move.
I smirk at her next unlock attempt. She curses and smacks the door when the lock doesn’t budge. After I purchased the Range Rover, I had the lock system modified. No one gets in or out without my permission.
While she fights with the lock, I snatch her purse and dump the contents in her lap. She stops as her phone, the cash, and other random, useless shit falls out. As soon as a wallet lands on her lap, I swipe it.
Her pouty lips pucker as I unzip the wallet and pluck out her ID. It takes only a few seconds for me to memorize her address. I toss the ID back to her and reverse from the spot.
“Um, excuse me?” she asks. “Where are we going?”
I turn out of the parking lot. “You’ll figure it out the closer we get there.”
“ Or you could just tell me.” She starts tossing her shit back into the bag. “God, what a way to spend my day off work. Kidnapped by a crazy my dad owes money to.”
“If I were kidnapping you, you’d be gagged and tied up in my trunk.”
She twists in her seat, scanning the back, as if expecting to find someone in that situation. It’s comical she’d think I’d ever kidnap someone in my personal vehicle. You steal cars for that.
But I’m almost positive Pippa doesn’t know who I am yet. Otherwise, she wouldn’t give me this much lip. She’d be as terrified of me as she was while waiting for Vinny to enter the room earlier.
She slumps in the seat. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“It should, considering you’re not tied up.”
Her cheeks warm, a stroke of pink on her sun-kissed skin. “Do you plan to tie me up?”
“Not unless you ask for it.”
“Spoiler alert: I definitely won’t. ”
“Bummer.” I tsk.
“No, what’s a bummer is you not letting me out of this car.”
“Sweetheart, the biggest bummer of the day is your father sending you into the casino as his scapegoat.”
“What was the alternative? You killing him?”
“Better him than you.”
Paul knew the danger he was putting her in, yet he did it anyway. If Pippa wasn’t with me, I’d have done more than break his nose. I’d have cut the fucking thing off. You don’t use women, especially your daughter, to handle your debts. That’s some cowardly shit.
Just as I told him, if he attempts to use her as leverage again, I won’t make an exception, even if she’s standing right next to me. The asshole racked up the debt. It’s his responsibility to pay it.
The drive from the casino to her apartment is short, but New York City traffic is a fucking nightmare. When she grabs her phone, I veer to the left, causing her shoulder to smack into the door.
“Put it down,” I snap.
She lowers her phone, glowering at me, but keeps it in her hand.
No spots are available in front of her building, so I parallel park across the street. I step out, straighten my blazer, and watch her glare at me through the windshield as I walk to her door. When I open it and extend my hand, she crosses her arms, refusing to take it like a goddamn child.
“I’m not above dragging your stubborn ass out,” I warn, biting each word out and kneeling so we’re eye level. When she doesn’t move, I up the ante. “Fine, we’ll drive around until I find your father. I’ll make you wait in the car and watch me kill him. Does that sound like a better time for you, Pippa?”
She uncrosses her arms and reluctantly accepts my hand .
“You try to run or scream, you’ll regret it.” I draw her to her feet.
It’s busy around us—people jogging, biking, jaywalking. I tighten my grip on hers, hoping she’ll behave. It’d be a headache, bribing or killing someone she asks for help.
We walk toward an older building I’d bet my entire stock portfolio isn’t up to code.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks, keying in the code to buzz us in. “Is this some kind of sick game you play before killing someone?”
“I don’t plan to kill you.” I crowd closer to see every number she hits. “I’m only curious.”
“Be curious about someone else.”
“Too bad. Blame yourself. You should’ve never come to the casino.”
“If you think this is my fault, you need a trip to reality land.”
“Considering what you did today, it seems you should join me.”
The door buzzes, unlocking, and I hold it open, allowing her to enter first. As soon as we’re inside, I nudge her toward the stairs. The entryway is tight and reeks of mothballs and BO. Chipped wall paint surrounds us, and locks are broken on a few doors. As we climb the cramped stairs, I can’t stop myself from staring at her ass.
It’s small yet plump.
Toned yet enough to fill my palms.
My hand tenses, urging me to smack it.
We pass two people on our way up. She doesn’t ask either for help or show any signs of distress. But from the way they lower their gazes to the floor, I doubt they’d help her even if she asked.
We stop on the fifth floor and pass two doors before reaching hers. As soon as she unlocks the door, I follow her inside. Good thing she’s the size of a bite-size Snickers. The place is as tight as a hamster cage .
Not that I expected anything lavish. Her father is a giant piece of shit and can’t pay his debts.
While small, the apartment is clean and decently furnished. Pippa tosses her keys on the narrow kitchen counter as I shut and lock the door.
Leaning back on my heels, I look around. Tokens of her personality litter the place, giving away hints of who she is. A hideous purple couch, colorful pillows, mismatched kitchen stools, and so many family photos.
I pick up a framed photo from a small end table. It’s a young girl, cheesing for the camera, front teeth missing, wearing a tutu.
I pick up another.
And another.
All while her gaze stays glued to me.
“You dance?” I ask.
She shyly bites into her lower lip. “Yes.”
“Ballet?” I return the frame to its place.
“Since I was three.”
I collapse on her stiff couch and drag my gaze down her petite body. Desire rushes through me like a drug.
I want to taste every inch of her skin.
I know it’d taste sweet.
Her pussy probably even better.
Pippa is beautiful. Her beauty is what caught my attention when I watched her on camera before entering the room.
She chews on the edge of her lip. They’re light pink and delicate, like no one has ever kissed her passionate enough to rough them up.
That’s exactly what I want to do.
Widening my legs, I prop my elbows on my knees. “I’ll knock off half your father’s debt if you dance for me, Pippa.”
She freezes, gaping at me.
I check my watch. “You have ten seconds to say yes or no.”