Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Eleonora
I should turn around and run. Right now. Bolt up the stairs and pretend I never saw this.
But my legs can’t seem to move. They feel bolted to the concrete floor. And I can’t look away from Nico either.
His back is turned to me, powerful muscles flexing and shifting under sweat-slicked skin as he continues to drive his fist into the man hanging from the chain.
Every brutal punch lands with a sickening crack of bone.
The man is sobbing, blood dripping from his split lip and broken nose onto the floor in dark, wet splatters.
“Please… please, Mr. Lombardi… I have kids,” the man begs, voice hoarse and broken. “Two little girls… they’ve got no one else, please don’t kill me. Please…”
Nico lands another punch, a wet crunch, and the man screams. I should be horrified. I am horrified.
He suddenly pulls a gun from the waistband of his shorts and presses it to the man’s forehead.
The man starts sobbing harder, snot and tears mixing with blood. “No—no, please! I’ll do anything! I swear on my daughters’ lives! They need me… please don’t—”
Nico pauses.
The gun stays pressed to the man’s head for a long, terrible second. Then, slowly, he lowers it. He unhooks the chain, and the man collapses to the floor in a whimpering heap.
Nico crouches beside him, voice low and ice-cold. “Today happens to be your lucky day. I’m not going to kill you.”
The man sobs with relief, babbling thank yous over and over.
“But now I own you,” Nico continues flatly. “I own your life. I own everything you have. When I call, you fucking answer. Understand?”
“Yes, sir… yes, thank you, sir…”
Nico grabs the man by his shirt and hauls him up like he weighs nothing. He slams the man’s hand down on a metal table covered with tools. Before I can even process what’s happening, Nico picks up a pair of pruning shears.
And cuts off two of the man’s fingers. The scream that rips out of the man is inhuman. Blood sprays across the metal table and onto the concrete floor in bright, horrifying arcs.
I flinch hard, but I still don’t run. Nico is capable of this kind of cruelty. And for some twisted, terrifying reason… it doesn’t make me want to run away from him.
It makes something dark and breathless unfurl low in my stomach. I stay hidden in the shadows of the doorway, breathing shallow, watching the most dangerous man I’ve ever met wipe blood from his fingers like it’s nothing.
Nico slowly turns his head, and our eyes lock. His whiskey-brown eyes are almost black now, pupils blown wide with violence and adrenaline. For one long, terrifying second, the entire world narrows to just the two of us.
He drops the bloody shears with a clatter and starts walking toward me, abandoning the sobbing man without a second glance. Pure, barely-leashed rage rolls off him in waves.
I should run.
But my feet still stay glued to the floor as he stalks closer, chest heaving, blood splattered across his bare torso and busted knuckles, muscles still pumped from the beating.
“What the hell are you doing down here?” he snarls, voice low and deadly.
His hand shoots out and clamps around my upper arm. He yanks me forward so hard I stumble, then starts dragging me back up the stairs. I try to pull away, but his grip only tightens, fingers digging into my flesh.
“Let go of me!” I snap, twisting against his hold. “You fucking animal, get your filthy hands off me!”
He ignores every insult I hurl at him, dragging me through the hallway like I’m a child. I stumble again when he suddenly shoves open a door and pushes me inside. I catch myself before I fall, spinning around to face him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
Nico slams the door shut behind him, the sound echoing like a gunshot. He’s breathing hard, covered in another man’s blood and his own sweat, eyes still wild.
“What were you doing down there?” he demands, stepping closer. “Trying to eavesdrop? Thought you could spy on me and run back to your father with information?”
I roll my eyes, even though my heart is hammering. “And then do what with it? Write a strongly worded letter? I was just looking around the house and found the stairs. Is that suddenly a crime now?”
His jaw clenches so hard I can see the muscle jump. He closes the distance between us in two strides, towering over me, blood still dripping from his knuckles onto the floor.
“And what exactly were you hoping to achieve by wandering around the house? I told you not to leave your room.”
I shrug, refusing to back down, even though every instinct is screaming at me. “I don’t take orders from you.”
His eyes darken further. “Careful,” he growls.
“And where the fuck is your bodyguard?” He looks around like he’s expecting Daniel to jump out and explain to him why I was out of his sight. From the looks of it, he’s going to rip Daniel a new one when he sees him.
“I don’t know,” I say with a nonchalant shrug. “Not my fault your employee is incompetent.”
Something dangerous flickers across his face, but he doesn’t react. Instead, he steps even closer until I can smell the copper of blood mixed with his sweat and the faint trace of his body wash.
“You deserve to be punished for this little stunt,” he says, voice low and rough, almost a growl.
My breath catches.
I should be terrified. I should be begging him to let me go and not punish me. There must be something wrong with me, because I’m not.
Instead, I’m staring up into those stormy eyes, daring him to go ahead and punish me. Because some dark, treacherous part of me desperately wants to know exactly what kind of punishment Nico Lombardi has in mind for me.
My eyes keep dropping to his mouth. To those firm, cruel lips still slightly parted. What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn’t want them on me. I shouldn’t be imagining how they would feel against mine. But I do. God, I do. The thought alone makes my breath hitch.
A rush of heat floods between my legs, warm and slick and completely unwanted. My core throbs, the sensation so strong it makes my knees feel weak. I press my thighs together tightly, but that only makes it worse
Nico’s gaze darkens as he notices. A slow, predatory sneer curves his lips. “What?” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “No smart comeback this time, princess?”
The air between us feels charged, almost suffocating. I take a shaky step back, trying to put distance between us.
Nico follows, stalking forward like a predator who’s scented weakness. I retreat again. He advances. We continue this dangerous dance until my back suddenly hits the edge of a heavy wooden desk. There’s nowhere left to go.
He stops just inches away, towering over me, still covered in blood and sweat. The scent of violence and raw male heat rolls off him and wraps around me like smoke.
He braces his hands on the desk on either side of me, caging me in. My nipples tighten painfully against the thin fabric of my top.
Nico leans in until his lips hover just above mine, his breath brushing my mouth. “You’re trembling, princess,” he whispers. “Is that fear… or something else?”
My mind is screaming at me to shut up, to stop provoking him, to not make this worse. But I can’t seem to help myself.
“I’m not scared of you,” I breathe, even as my voice comes out shaky and breathless.
Liar. I’m terrified. But not of him hurting me. I’m terrified of how badly I want him to.
Stop talking Eleonora. Just stop.
His gaze drops to my mouth again, darkening even further. The muscle in his jaw ticks. He’s so close now that if either of us moves even an inch, our lips will touch.
Nico’s lips curve into the ghost of a smile, dark, dangerous, almost amused. “Hmm.” He brings a hand to my face, his busted knuckles grazing my skin, leaving trails of blood behind.
“You keep saying you’re not scared of me,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, “but your eyes tell a different story.”
His bloodied fingers sliding down to wrap loosely around my throat. “I see it so clearly… fear and desire, twisting together. You’re terrified of what I am…” His thumb presses lightly against my racing pulse, “…and even more terrified of how badly you want me anyway.”
Nico’s hand slides from the desk to my waist, gripping me possessively, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp.
“You’re so full of it, Lombardi,” I breathe.
“Liar,” he murmurs, voice rough and low. “You’re soaked right now, aren’t you?”
My breath hitches as heat floods my face, I open my mouth to respond but I can’t seem to form a word.
His grip on my waist tightens, and a soft involuntary gasp escapes my lips. Heat pours off his bare chest, brushing against me with every breath I take. His lips hover just above mine, close enough that I can feel the warmth of them.
The pull is electric, magnetic, almost painful. My nipples tighten, my core throbs with a deep, needy ache. I can feel myself getting wetter and needy for a man I should despise.
I tilt my head up slightly, almost daring him to kiss me.
Nico’s gaze drops to my mouth. His breath mingles with mine. Just one more millimeter and—
A knock sounds on the door, and it swings open. A man with a similar build to Nico steps inside. He’s terrifying, scarred face, cold eyes. He flicks a deadly glance at me, then turns to Nico, who doesn’t make a move to remove his hands from my neck or waist.
“Boss. We have news.”
Nico pulls away from me instantly, like someone flipped a switch. The heat between us vanishes immediately. He doesn’t even look back at me as he heads for the door.
“Stay here,” he orders.
The door slams shut behind them.
I hear the lock click.
That bastard locked me in. Again!