CHAPTER TWELVE The Devil’s Gift
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Devil’s Gift
Some men use words as weapons. He used silence—and it was far deadlier.
The intensity of his gaze pinned me to the chair. It wasn’t just a look; it was a goddamn assertion of his dominance like he was sizing me up, deciding whether I was worth breaking or keeping.
I curled my fingers against my lap, pressing my nails deeper into my palm. Anything to keep my expression blank. To keep my pulse from betraying me.
He was now sitting behind his desk, and I was sitting just opposite him. I didn’t know why he called me here, but whatever the reason was, I wanted to leave. A lion studying an outsmarted mouse.
Then, finally—finally—he spoke.
“What were you doing in the library?”
My heart slammed against my ribs. Fuck.
No. No, no, no. He knew.
I felt the blood drain from my face, my stomach twisting so hard I thought I might be sick. Stay calm. Stay—Did Elena tell him? Did someone see me? Oh my god. He must have had cameras around. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He was testing me all this time, then? Wanting me to tell him myself?
I gripped the armrest of the chair as my nails dug into the leather. I needed to think. One wrong word and I was done.
“I was looking for something to read,” I forced my voice to remain calm.
He didn't move. Didn’t even blink. Just watched me like a predator watches a wounded animal—knowing it was only a matter of time before it collapsed. I swallowed hard.
He assessed me with that sharp steel gaze of his, and I forgot to even think. He’d make me speak anyway.
“And you found it… behind the hidden door?”
I stopped breathing. I should react—deny, lie, or run. But my body had locked up, frozen in some kind of sinful way. I was hyper-aware of his gaze. That steely grey piercing gaze. Threatening to rip me alive.
Shit. Shit. How did he know?
“I—I got lost,” I tried, visibly shaking.
He let out a low chuckle. The kind that sent more ice down my spine.
“Lost?” He casually tilted his head, leaning onto his elbows and meeting my nervous eyes.
The way he said it made my pulse stutter.
“It’s a big house,” I muttered.
“It is,” he agreed, nodding. “Plenty of places to get lost. Plenty of places to hide things.”
I swallowed hard.
He didn’t break eye contact. He didn’t need to.
Oh god.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to hold his gaze. If I cracked now, I was as good as dead.
But then… he smirked. A slow, knowing curve of his lips.
“Did you like what you saw?”
My stomach dropped. My breath caught in my throat.
The red room.
Leather. Steel. Restraints bolted to the walls. Silk ropes, whips, clamps—things I didn’t even have the words for.
Heat licked up my neck. Not the good kind. The terrifying kind.
“You went through my things, Dolcezza, you saw what was there,” he mused, rounding the desk like he had all the time in the world to play with his prey. “Curiosity is such a dangerous thing. Especially when it leads to places you don't belong.”
I gripped the edges of my dress, trying to keep my hands from shaking.
“I didn't touch anything.”
“Ah, but you wanted to.”
My throat tightened. No.
He took another step. I took one back. A mistake.
His hand shot out, gripping my jaw. Fingers pressed into my skin, forcing my head back so I had no choice but to meet his gaze.
“Tell me, Dolcezza,” he murmured with dark amusement. “Which one fascinated you the most?”
My pulse slammed against my ribs.
“The cuffs?” His thumb dragged over my lower lip. “The blindfolds?” His grip tightened, making my breath hitch. “Or was it something else? Something hard?”
I let out a shaky breath, but it barely made it past his fingers.
“None of them,” I forced out, my voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t—”
“Lying doesn’t suit you.”
His thumb dipped into my mouth, pressing down against my tongue.
I went rigid.
Heat. Shame. Fear. It all crashed into me at once. My body locked up, my nails digging into his wrist, but he didn’t let go.
“You should’ve asked if you wanted a demonstration,” he murmured, voice nothing but silk and sin.
I yanked my head back, and he let me go. A slow retreat. A calculated one. He was toying with me, and we both knew it.
I swallowed hard, my throat raw.
“You think this is funny?” I bit out, trying to steady my breath.
He just smiled.
“No,” he said. “I think it’s cute.”
My stomach twisted. He was enjoying this. My fear. My helplessness. The way he could bend me without lifting a single finger.
Then, as if he hadn’t just spent the last minute making me question every choice I’d ever made, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out.
A small, black velvet box.
I stared at it.
“A gift.”
I didn’t move.
“Take it.”
My fingers trembled as I reached for it, the velvet soft against my skin. I flipped the lid open— and froze.
It was an anklet.
Delicate, shimmering under the low light. Diamonds woven into thin platinum links, gleaming like something stolen from royalty. Too expensive. Too beautiful.
And too intimate.
“Why?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
His head tilted, watching me like I was something fragile. Breakable.
“Because I like seeing pretty things in places only I can touch.”
I sucked in a breath.
“Put it on.”
I hesitated. His gaze sharpened. “Do it, or I’ll do it for you.”
I shook my head, my fingers tightening around the box. “No.”
His smile didn’t falter, but something dark flickered in his gaze. So dangerously amused it terrified me. Like I’d just told him something utterly ridiculous.
“That wasn’t a request.”
I turned to move, to put space between us, but he was faster. His fingers clamped around my wrist, yanking me forward so fast I barely had time to gasp before I was against him, his body a wall of heat and dominance.
“Stubborn little thing,” he murmured. “Should I punish you for making me work so hard?”
I opened my mouth, but the next second, I was airborne—lifted like I weighed nothing and dumped onto the desk. A sharp yelp escaped me as papers and pens scattered to the floor.
He caught my ankle before I could kick him, fingers wrapping around the delicate bone. His grip was firm, unrelenting, as he dragged my leg up—higher, higher—until my calf was slung over his shoulder.
“Let me go,” I gritted out, shoving at him, but he didn’t budge.
“Shh.” He stroked his thumb over my ankle like mocking me with tenderness. “You should be thanking me. Not every girl gets jewellery on her pretty little feet.”
I gasped as I felt the cold metal brush against my skin. He was slipping the anklet on, slow, methodical, like he was savouring every second. The clasp clicked into place, locking me in.
And then—
His lips grazed my ankle.
I sucked in a breath, my entire body tensing as his mouth lingered, warm and wet, tongue flicking out to taste the anklet.
“Perfect,” he murmured, breath ghosting over my skin. His voice dripped with satisfaction. “Now every step you take, you’ll feel it. My mark on you.”
I shuddered, torn between fury and something else. Something that made my stomach tighten and my skin burn.
He lifted his head, eyes gleaming. “I wonder…” His fingers trailed up my calf, lazy, teasing. “Should I put something else on you? Something only I can take off?”
My pulse stuttered.
His smirk deepened. “Say no again. I dare you.”