Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
I speed walk down the hall and around the corner. I’m so close...so close…and that’s exactly how far I get before running into a hard wall of muscle.
My hands fly up upon instinct, my palms landing against his chest. I jump back and retract my hands, as if touching Damon burns my skin.
“Didn’t I fucking tell you to stay in my office?” He is furious. The look in his eyes is deadly, and I’m so scared, I think I might throw up. Everything about Damon sets off my fight or flight instincts.
“If you don’t start listening to what I say, you’re going to end up like your stupid brother.”
All my fear transforms into fury, and in that moment of insanity, I slap Damon right across the face.
Pain sears through my hand, burning deep into my skin.
People down the hall stop their conversation and gawk, their eyes moving to where we stand. I take a chance and look up into Damon's dark gaze. Surprise flickers in his stare, but it quickly evaporates, leaving nothing but fury.
His hand comes up as if he’s going to hit me, and I instantly try to get away. My legs stumble backward, and like the klutz I am, I manage to trip over my own two feet, landing on the unforgiving ground. Pain radiates up my spine as soon as my ass hits the floor. I groan, and just when I think the worst of my fall is over, an ache develops at the back of my head.
Pain lances through my body. I knew coming here was a bad idea.
“You’re a pain in the fucking ass. A pain in the ass I have zero time or patience for. And now you’ve made a mockery out of me in front of my own people. You slapped me. You actually fucking slapped me.” Damon’s eyes are wild, and my vision blurs as I try to backpedal, but there’s nowhere to go.
With the wall directly behind me, I’m at his mercy.
Without another word, he grabs me by the upper arm. His grip is harsh, and I know there will be bruises, but he doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t give me a chance to get to my feet either. He starts walking, dragging me back toward his office. My head throbs, and a pounding begins behind my eyes.
“Apparently, you have a hard time following directions. I suppose I’ll have to show you exactly what happens to those who don’t follow my orders.”
His tone is clipped, and when we enter the office again, he releases me, and my body sags against the floor. I try to stand back up, but I’m too dizzy and weak in the knees. I look up at him as he towers over me like an overlord.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” he snarls. His eyes are as dark as the midnight sky, and I’m frozen into place with fear. “When I tell you to do something, you do it.”
I slither back across the floor, trying to put some distance between us, but he doesn’t want distance—no, he wants to prove he’s in control.
He reaches for his belt, and my insides twist.
“I own you now, and you’ll do whatever I say when I say it. You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you simply because I fucking told you to do it. Your protection is not guaranteed, and right now, I’m considering killing you myself.”
What the hell is he talking about? He owns me now? I’m too scared to ask…hell, I’m too scared to do anything right now. Just when I think this situation can’t get any worse, he slides his belt from its loops, sending me into a full-blown panic attack.
I close my eyes, trying my very best to get my breathing under control, but the air won’t enter my lungs. Fear is paralyzing me. I don’t know why I’m so scared.
Actually...I do.
Damon.
My head is already spinning from the fall, and before I know it, I’ve been holding my breath too long. My lungs burn, and darkness closes in around me, dragging me deeper and deeper into an abyss.
Chapter 4
Damon
What the fuck is wrong with this chick? I kneel in front of her crumbled body and examine her. Using my hands, I lift her head and feel for a wound. My fingers comb through her hair. The locks are smooth—so smooth, I envision tugging on them as I fuck her from behind. I blink, shaking the thought away.
No, you do not want to fuck her. You. Do. Not.
I make note of the large knot on the back of her head, then I inspect her face. Now I can see how pretty she is without the fearful expression on her face. Why the hell is she so scared of me?
I can’t leave her on the floor. I slide one arm underneath her shoulders, and the other beneath her knees, then I pull her into my body, tucking her into my chest.