Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
T he city lights blurred past the car window, a kaleidoscope of neon and shadows as Vince’s car sped through the streets. Nervous energy coursed through me—replacing the slight buzz from the alcohol.
My fingers trembled as I pulled out my phone to text Fiona while my mind was still trying to come to grips with what had just happened.
When I’d seen Vince, I thought for a moment I was hallucinating until he opened his mouth, barked orders, hurt my friend, and dragged me out of there.
And what the hell? Iset—aka Isabella Salvini—was his sister?
How on earth did that happen? This was too much of a coincidence. Was every single Salvini family member targeting me?
I shook my head. It was all too much right now for me to handle. Focus on what is important. My thumb hovered over my chat with Fee.
Seven messages waiting. Shit. I should’ve told her where I was before she started to freak out and sent the Evil Prince himself.
I cast a sideways glance at Vince. His jaw was clenched tight as he navigated the late-night traffic. The lights cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles and dangerous shadows.
He met my eyes, and my stomach fluttered. Damn him for being so attractive even when he was annoying as hell. The air between us crackled with unspoken tension. He’d carried me out of the pub as if I was a child, as if I was his to order around.
Which I was not.
I focused back on my phone, ignoring the man next to me. What should I tell Fee? I started typing, then deleted, then started again. The words felt hollow, inadequate.
Hey, sorry I disappeared. I’ll explain everything later.
That was all I managed to type before unwanted thoughts crept in.
What would happen if I disappeared for real? Would she and my sisters understand and forgive me or would our bond crumble because of my decision? But I, at least, needed to let them know beforehand or write a letter or something to let them know I was okay.
I sighed. I’d planned to get my freedom in any way possible, so why was I suddenly hesitating? Why did saying goodbye suddenly feel too overwhelming to even think about?
Damn. Saying goodbye to everyone and everything I’d known would suck. But if my identity got out, I wouldn’t have another option.
And even if not. I side-eyed Vince again. I would not marry his brother. Not ever.
The weight of everything going on pressed down on me and made it hard to breathe in the confines of the car all of a sudden.
My hands shook slightly as I sent the text, then stared at the blank screen. Just thinking about my situation, it hit me: I was in way over my head, playing dangerous games with very dangerous people.
I side-eyed Vince. And yet here I was, sitting next to one of those, if not the most dangerous man, who could make me disappear without a trace. And instead of doing what every halfway-sane person would do—staying as far away from him as possible?
What was I doing? I was partying in his city, with his sister like a complete idiot.
And as if that wasn’t dumb enough, the first thought running through my head when I looked down from the bar and saw him was how annoyingly attractive he was and how happy I was he was there.
I was going mental.
I leaned back and closed my eyes. I’d had so much fun tonight. Everyone was in the mood to let loose since our gym had been pretty successful in the tournament. And Iset—Isabella—fit in with my friends as if she’d been a part of the group forever.
I hadn’t been ready to leave. Not yet, not without saying goodbye.
But he hadn’t even given me the chance.
The leather of the seat beneath me squeaked as I shifted and turned to face Vince.
His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, jaw clenched tight enough I could see a vein jump in the twilight.
I bit back a smirk. For someone so controlled, he sure lost his cool easily. “So, is this what you do?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Act like a caveman on impulse, then regret it and pretend like nothing happened?”
Vince’s eyes flicked to me, dark and intense. “What exactly are you referring to?”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks as memories of our kiss in the library flooded back. The urgency, the hunger, the way his body felt against mine. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the tingling sensation that raced across my skin.
“Oh, I don’t know, there’s so much to choose from,” I said, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe kidnapping me? Or whatever this was right now. Or that kiss.”
The car swerved slightly as Vince’s grip tightened on the wheel. “You really think if I acted on impulse I would still be alive?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Trust me, Punk, there’s hardly anything I do that isn’t calculated.”
I rolled my eyes, even as a shiver ran down my spine. “Right. Because almost drowning me in your pool was totally part of some master plan.”
He gritted his teeth, which I couldn’t see, but I heard the grinding sound.
“And dragging me out of there and ending my friend’s career by breaking his bones was calculated? That’s the kind of person you are?”
“You have no idea what kind of person I am. And you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Vince growled.
I leaned closer, the scent of his cologne making my head spin. “And you have no idea who you’re dealing with. Face it, you’ve got anger issues and zero impulse control.”
I had been so focused on him, I’d lost awareness of the surroundings, so when the car rolled to a stop in a perfectly lit underground parking garage, I was surprised and disoriented.
He pushed the button, and the engine’s purr went silent.
His eyes met mine, blazing with an intensity that made my breath catch. “Is that so? And since you know me so well, I suppose you think I regret that kiss, too?”
I nodded, and the air between us crackled with tension. I wanted to look away, to break whatever spell he had over me, but I couldn’t. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized just how deep I was in over my head with him.
Why was I poking the bear? And how could I be both attracted and appalled by him?
What was this strange pull he had on me? Somehow, beneath his menacing front, despite us being enemies; despite knowing I should stay as far away from him as possible, there was this craving to be close, to get under his skin, to get to know the real Vince Salvini.
“Let’s go,” he said, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. I was not ready to face him in his apartment or have this talk. “No,” I whispered, then cleared my throat and repeated louder, “No. I’m not going anywhere with you ever again.”
He exhaled noisily, then leaned closer, his scent—a heady mix of cologne and something uniquely him—even stronger. He grabbed my chin and forced me to face him. His eyes flashed dangerously in the low light. “Don’t test me, not again, not right now. You should know I’m not playing around. I’ll just carry you up and tie you to a chair if I have to.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks when I remembered how being tied to that chair had triggered the biggest panic attack I’d ever had. How it had felt to be thrown over his shoulder; how humiliated I was when he rested his hand on my ass earlier.
Humiliated—not even a little bit excited.
Right?
Right.
That tingly feeling had been caused by blood rushing through my head. It had just been adrenaline or the alcohol. I had surely not been turned on by being manhandled by this brute.
“I’d like to see you try,” I snapped, trying to mask my conflicting emotions with bravado.
A low growl rumbled in his chest. “If you insist on behaving like a brat, I have no problem treating you like one or disciplining you. A good spanking does wonders sometimes…”
He trailed off, and my breath caught in my throat, and my stomach fluttered. Did he just say what I thought he said? And did he mean…
The threat in his eyes was clear, but there was something else. He was somehow waiting, staring, gauging my reaction.
Did he know the kind of impact his words had on me? Did he know that his implied promise sent a thrill of excitement through me unlike anything I’d ever experienced?
Not that I had any experience. Hard to meet boys and explore your sexuality when you are under surveillance 24/7.
And what had happened in Italy kinda took away all desire to… I would not think about Italy.
But, at least, I knew now I wasn’t too broken to feel something, to still have sexual desires, to still want to experience it all.
Only, couldn’t my body and mind choose someone else?
Someone who wouldn’t swallow me whole, spit me out, and leave me in pieces after he was done with me?
Someone normal and less threatening to my physical health and my sanity?
I narrowed my eyes. I hated how my body responded to him, how easily he could affect me—in any way. “You wouldn’t dare,” I challenged even as a part of me hoped he would. The part that was apparently not interested in survival.
Vince’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. “Last chance. Get out of the car willingly, or I’ll make you.”
I glared back at him, my heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation. What would he do? What did I want him to do?
The air between us crackled with tension, and I found myself caught between the urge to flee and the desire to see just how far he’d go, which was bad, really, really bad.
Also, once I was in his apartment, there was no way he would let me go again.
And I needed to figure things out.
Alone.
I looked down. He was still strapped in. I opened my seatbelt as stealthily as I could. “Fine,” I said and glared back at him. I would get out, but not how he wanted me to. Instead, I would just run. I was leaner, lighter, younger, and I just needed to make it outside of the building.
He nodded once.
I tensed, waited, and as soon as he let go, I jumped into action.
I opened my door, slipped out of my seatbelt, and jumped out of the car, only to have his hand wrap around my wrist and be flung back into my seat. “Not so fast, Little One.”