Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Eleonora
Nico turns his back to me without warning and pulls his shirt off.
My breath catches.
The tattoos on his back are even more striking up close, bold, dark ink that stretches across his broad shoulders and down the powerful lines of his spine. Intricate patterns, sharp edges, and what looks like an old family crest woven into the design.
My fingers twitch at my sides. I have the sudden, insane urge to step forward and trace every line with my fingertips, to feel the heat of his skin beneath the ink.
I stare like an idiot until he disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Snap out of it, Eleonora.
I shake my head hard and look around his bedroom. It’s so unmistakably him. Dark, masculine, and expensive. Deep charcoal walls, heavy black wood furniture, a massive king-sized bed with crisp black sheets, and the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.
A leather armchair sits in the corner under a reading lamp. It feels like a king’s chamber.
I should leave like he already asked me to. Coming in here with him was a mistake. He’s not going to tell me what I want to know, whether he’s found Sienna, whether my father is meeting his demands, or what’s going to happen to me when this is all over.
His answer earlier, “I don’t know” disappointed me more than it should have. I don’t know what I was expecting, so why did it sting? My mind is getting completely messed up. Why am I even thinking about any of this?
I turn toward the door to leave, but when I try the handle, it doesn’t budge.
Locked. Of course it is. The man has a special talent for locking me in places. There’s a digital keypad beside the door, and I don't know the code.
I huff and walk back to sit on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom so he can unlock the damn door.
A few moments pass.
Unable to sit still, I get up and wander over to a door on the far side of the room. I open it quietly and step inside.
It’s his walk-in closet, bigger than my old bedroom at home.
Rows of perfectly tailored dark suits hang in neat lines.
Designer shirts, crisp white and black. Shelves of expensive watches gleam under soft lighting.
Drawers filled with neatly folded ties in silk and cashmere.
Casual sections with soft t-shirts, polos, and hoodies.
Everything is organized with military precision.
I pick up one of his polos, running my fingers over the soft fabric before bringing it to my nose, breathing in the faint scent of him.
“Look at you,” a deep, amused voice drawls from behind me. “Sneaking through my stuff like a little thief.”
I spin around at the sound of his voice and freeze.
Nico is leaning against the doorframe, shirtless again, tying a white towel low around his waist. His hair is wet, water droplets sliding down the hard planes of his chest and carved abs.
The man looks like he was sculpted, every ridge and valley defined, the sharp V of his hips disappearing beneath the towel like an arrow pointing to sin. My gaze follows one particular droplet as it trails slowly down his stomach… lower… lower…
I want to trace it with my tongue. I want to drop to my knees and follow that path until—
For God's sake, Eleonora.
“Find anything interesting?”
I snap my eyes back up to his face. “I’m not a thief.”
He pushes off the doorframe and steps deeper into the closet, a dark smirk playing on his lips. “And yet here you are, in my closet, snooping through my things… holding one of my shirts.”
I look down. Sure enough, I’m still clutching the polo. I drop it like it burned me, letting it fall back onto the shelf.
Nico keeps coming closer until he’s right in front of me. The scent of his body wash floating around me like smoke. It’s intoxicating.
“I thought I asked you to leave?”
“I tried to leave,” I say, my voice slightly breathless. “The bedroom door was locked.”
“So you decided to snoop around instead?” His voice is low, almost amused, but there’s heat underneath it.
I shrug, trying to appear unbothered even though my heart is racing. “What can I say? Idle mind and all that.”
He hums, the sound vibrating through me, then steps away. Before I can even process the relief, he reaches for the towel at his waist and drops it to the floor.
I let out a soft gasp thinking he's naked underneath.
But luckily, he's wearing tight black briefs, which however leave nothing to the imagination.
The fabric clings to his powerful thighs and the very obvious, very impressive bulge at the front.
When he turns slightly to grab a pair of trousers, I get a clear view of his tight, muscled ass.
I whip my head away so fast I nearly give myself whiplash, cheeks burning.
Get it together. You hate this man.
My eyes dart around for something, anything to focus on and land on the large center island in the middle of the closet. His phone is sitting right there on the marble surface. He must have brought it in with him.
My pulse spikes.
If I could just get my hands on that phone… hide it… I could call my sisters. I could—
Nico’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Careful, little thief. I can see you thinking.”
I quickly look away from the phone, but it’s too late. He’s watching me with those sharp eyes, like he already knows exactly what I was planning.
I try to distract him before he can read me too well.
“How come you have so many watches?” I ask, walking casually toward the center island where his phone is resting.
Nico has his back to me as he buttons his shirt. I move quickly, snatch the phone, and slip it into the back waistband of my leggings, tugging my tank top down to cover it.
He turns around, now dressed in tailored black slacks and a crisp white shirt that stretches across his chest. He walks straight toward me.
“Because I can,” he answers simply.
He stops right in front of me. Too close. The air between us feels charged, electric. We stare at each other in silence. My pulse is hammering so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
“Your breath is hitched,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “Are you okay?”
My response comes out breathy. “I’m fine.”
He lifts a hand and brushes his knuckles slowly down the side of my face. The touch is feather-light but it burns. He trails them along my jaw, down my neck, then across my collarbone. Everywhere he touches, my skin ignites.
He leans in until his lips are at my ear. “Are you sure?” His forefinger presses gently against the frantic pulse in my neck. “Because I can feel how fast your heart is racing.”
I can’t answer. My mind is blank, overwhelmed by the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, the way his breath fans across my ear. And fear of being discovered.
“What?” he whispers, clearly enjoying this. “No smart response?”
He nips my earlobe with his teeth, just enough to make me gasp. A soft, involuntary sound slips from my throat.
His hands slide down my sides, slow and possessive, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Goosebumps erupt across my skin. He grips my waist, then moves lower, palming my ass with both hands.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmurs against my ear, voice dark and filthy. “Sneaking around my room… getting all worked up while I’m right here…”
Then, smack.
His hand comes down hard on my right ass cheek. I gasp sharply, shock and heat exploding through me.
Before I can even recover, he yanks the hem of my tank top up with one hand. His fingers close around his phone, pulling it from the waistband of my leggings.
He holds it up between us, a wicked, satisfied smirk on his face.
“I’m not stupid, little thief.”
My face burns with humiliation and lingering arousal as he holds his phone up between us, waving it slowly like a trophy, eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
“Really?” he drawls. “What were you going to do with this? Call your daddy to come rescue you? Or maybe your lover, Andrea?”
“For the last time,” I snap, “Andrea is not my lover.”
He lets out a low, mocking sound. “I find that hard to believe, considering you were willingly walking down the aisle to become his wife.”
I open my mouth to explain again why I switched with Sienna, but I stop myself. He won’t listen. He doesn’t care about the truth. To him, I’m just another piece in this twisted game.
“I only took it so I could talk to my sisters,” I say instead, lifting my chin.
Nico tilts his head. “Then why didn’t you just ask?”
I quirk a brow at him. “Would you have given it to me?”
“No.”
“Exactly,” I mutter. “That’s what I thought.”
He steps even closer, voice dropping into that dangerous register that does terrible things to my body. “Don’t try to steal from me again, Eleonora. I kill people who steal from me.”
My heart stutters, but I refuse to back down. “Then why don’t you go ahead and kill me?”
A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest. He leans in until his lips brush the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
“And ruin the fun?” he whispers. “Nah.”
He pulls back slowly, eyes locked on mine with that predatory glint as he tucks the phone into his own pocket, eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
“Nice try, though.”
Then he reaches past me, picks up the polo I’d been holding earlier, and holds it out to me.
“You can keep it.”
I stare at the shirt, then at him, completely thrown off balance.
He doesn’t wait for me to respond. He simply takes my hand and places the shirt in it, turns and starts walking out of the closet.
Getting to the door, he pauses, his back still to me.
“I suggest you follow me,” Nico says, his voice low and dangerously calm, “if you don’t want to remain locked in my bedroom.”
Then he glances over his shoulder, dark eyes dragging slowly over me. A smirk pulls at his mouth.
“Except if you’re ready to be folded in half, legs spread wide, and fucked until you can’t walk straight… I suggest you leave.”
Heat explodes through me, rushing straight between my thighs. The image he just forced into my head, me bent over, completely at his mercy, him driving into me hard and deep, makes my knees weak.
I stand there clutching his shirt to my chest, heart racing, thighs pressed together, trying to ignore how wet I’ve become.
I take a moment to regain my composure, and follow him, heart hammering, thighs slick, cheeks burning with a mixture of fury and unwanted arousal.