REBECCA #2
"You think you can just finger me against a window, and I'll spill my fucking guts just so you can get me off?
Like my life is some game you can play with your dick?
" My voice rises, shaking with fury and hurt.
"Selfish, self-absorbed asshole! You don't know shit about me.
You don't know what I'm fighting for, what I've lost. You think you can use this—" I gesture between us, voice breaking, "—to control me? "
Rachel's face flashes in my mind. The empty bed. The unanswered calls. The years of searching and failing. And now this man—this dangerous, beautiful man—is trying to leverage my body against me like it's nothing.
I shove at him again, harder. "Fuck you, Alessio."
He catches my wrists in one big hand, firm but not bruising, and pins them above my head against the glass. His body presses into mine, holding me there as I struggle.
"Beccs—" His voice is rough, strained. His eyes burn with a mix of lust and something darker.
I glare up at him; my chest is still heaving, tears of rage and frustration threatening to spill.
"I'm not your toy," I whisper fiercely, even as my traitorous body still throbs for him. "And I'm sure as hell not telling you anything while you try to fuck the truth out of me."
The air between us crackles, thick with sex, fury, and something far more dangerous: neither of us is willing to back down.
I glare at him, my chest still heaving from all my jumbled-up emotions and, yes, sexual frustration, but I'm not going to give him an inch. "I want to go home. Take me home."
Alessio shakes his head slowly, eyes locked on mine. "No."
The word lands like a door slamming shut. I yank my tank top back down, covering myself, and march toward the door. "Fine. Have it your way."
The second I reach it, the four guards outside snap to attention, blocking the exit like silent walls of muscle. I whirl around and glare at Alessio. "Really, Vitali?"
He nods once, calm as ever. "I'm afraid so."
I slam the door shut so hard the sound echoes through the massive penthouse and stalk back toward him, ready to kill him with my bare hands.
"So what, you're kidnapping me now?" I demand.
He grins, slow and dangerous. "Something like that."
He's actually admitting it. This unbelievable, arrogant asshole is standing there looking smug while holding me prisoner in his sky palace.
I snatch my purse and phone off the counter. "I'm calling the cops."
Alessio crosses his arms over his broad chest. "Good luck with that. I'll tell them you broke in here and harassed me."
I stare at him, mouth open. "You… you are unbelievable."
A thought occurs to me. "Security footage shows you entering with me, guiding me to the private elevator."
He shrugs like we're discussing the weather. "Tapes go missing all the time in this city."
I'm so furious I want to rip his hair out. Or his heart. How the hell did I ever let this man fuck me? How did I let those crystal blue eyes and that filthy mouth make me forget what he really is?
I narrow my eyes at him. "So what do you want? What's it going to take for you to let me go home?"
God, I should be terrified. I'm standing in the penthouse of a mafia boss. Charly's warnings flash through my head, rumors of dozens of people dead or disappeared because of him. He's dangerous.
But I'm not afraid of him.
If anything, I hate myself for how much I'm still attracted to him. Even now, with my body still buzzing from his mouth on my breasts, part of me wants him to push me back against that window and finish what he started.
Another thought cuts through the anger like a blade. He's wealthy. Powerful. Connected. He has resources I could only dream of. The kind that could help me find Rachel.
I swallow hard, forcing my voice to steady. "Beyond knowing why I'm with the Reapers… what else do you want?"
Alessio's grin turns darker. "Isn't that self-explanatory?
" He steps closer, and his voice drops. "We both enjoyed the other night.
Let's do it again. That's not a bad bargain, right?
" He lowers his voice even more, his fingers walk up and down my arm, creating goosebumps on my skin and havoc in my stomach.
"You're under my skin, Beccs. I need to get you out of my system. "
I nearly laugh. Because… I'm under his skin? For a second, my rationality flickers. The heat between us is still there, hot like a furnace. But then suspicion crashes in.
I tilt my head, studying him. "Why? What do you really want, Alessio?"
He doesn't answer right away. Just watches me with those intense blue eyes like he's trying to peel back every layer I have.
My heart rate spikes. With the anger, lust, distrust, and something deeper neither of us wants to name hanging between us, I'm not sure which one of us is more dangerous right now.
"It's really as simple as that," he reiterates.
He steps closer, his eyes burn into mine.
"I want to know why you're with the Reapers.
Why you keep popping up in my life. Who the fuck you work for.
" His gaze drops to my mouth for a second before returning to my eyes.
"And yes… I need to get you out of my system so I can think like myself again. "
The last part hits hard. Because God, I need the same thing.
He's driving me completely crazy. Every time I close my eyes, I feel his mouth on my skin, hear that filthy growl in my ear, and remember how easily he made my body betray me.
I hate how much I want him. I hate how much space he's taking up in my head when Rachel is the only thing that should matter.
But then the cold reality crashes in.
He showed up in Idaho. He was at that gala. He's clearly acquainted with the Reapers. And he's mafia. Which means human smuggling. Sex trafficking. The exact nightmare I've been terrified of for four years, the one that might have swallowed my little sister whole.
I stare at him, and my throat tightens. What if I tell him I'm looking for Rachel and he's involved? Would he kill me to shut me up? Would it even matter anymore? The not knowing is slowly eroding every part of me. The search is exhausting me, physically, mentally, soul-deep. I'm so fucking tired.
I swallow hard and gather what's left of my courage. "Let me ask you one thing first. And you have to swear to be honest."
Really, Beccs? my inner voice mocks. 'You have to be honest'? What is this, kindergarten? Or what, you'll tell his mommy?
Alessio's eyebrow lifts. "What?"
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "What do you know of—or do you have anything to do with—human trafficking?"
The words hang in the air between us like a live grenade. Alessio stares at me for a long, heavy moment. The silence stretches until I can hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.
"That's actually two questions," his voice is deceptively calm.
But his eyes… his eyes have gone dark and unreadable.
I don't back down. I can't. Not when Rachel's life might be on the line.
The tension between us shifts again, sharper now, more dangerous.
Lust and suspicion twist together into something I don't know how to survive.
And yet I still want him. God help me, I still want him.