Page 110 of Whispers in the Dark
“I need to get back to my table,” I say, compelling my voice to stay calm.
But he isn’t fooled.
His eyes track me the way a predator views its kill.
He’s the big bad wolf.
And I’m the lost little lamb.
He steps forward, and I retreat, stepping backwards until my back meets a door. My hand slips behind me, fumbling for the handle.Locked.
“Who are you?” I ask, buying time as my eyes sweep the narrow space, searching for an opening to slip past him and call for help. But he’s big. Easily twice my size. An escape isn’t possible.
His eyes darken. “Just a man who always gets what he wants.”
My throat tightens as he looms closer. “Don’t touch me,” I force the words out, even as my hands tremble.
“Or what?”
A shiver washes over me, and I hug my clutch before me. “My husband will—”
“He’ll do what exactly?” His smile spreads, slow and cruel. “Because I don’t see him here.” He chuckles, smoothing a hand over his slicked-back black hair. “Besides…” He adjusts his jacket. “You really want to spend the rest of your night next to that beast when you could spend it with me instead? You’re too beautiful to be with the likes of him. Come spend one night with me, and I’ll show you how good it could be.”
“Help!”
His hand slaps over my mouth, his fingers digging into my cheek. Panic surges. I stomp on his foot as hard as I can. He grunts out in pain, his face morphing into displeasure.
“Listen, bitch—”
The man is ripped away from me, slammed into the wall as if he weighs nothing at all. I collapse into the corner, my legs giving out beneath me as my body shakes uncontrollably. I curl inward, my arms wrapping around my knees, trying to steady my breath.
When I finally dare to look up, Mauro is standing between us.
He appears like a god about to execute his wrath onto this man. Fury grows deep in his eyes, his skin transforming into a deep shade of red as veins bulge on the side of his neck.
For a brief moment, his gaze flicks to me. It softens just enough as his eyes sweep over me, checking for any visible injuries. When he seems satisfied that I’m physically unharmed, even if still shaken, something hardens again inside him.
Slowly, he turns back to the man now clutching his head against the wall.
“Listen,” the man begins, “it’s not what it looks like. She asked me to take her here and—”
Mauro’s fingers circle the man’s neck, pressing him forcefully against the wall. The man futilely tries to remove his hands, clawing at them with everything he has, but can’t, as he struggles for air.
Mauro removes one hand and shoves the man’s temple backward, cracking the plaster. Blood seeps from the back of his head as his lids appear too heavy to keep open.
Mauro levels the man with a glare, a cruel smile appearing on his face. “My…wife,” he says with vehemence. The rough possessive timbre of his voice sends my heart into overdrive.
I know then what he’s about to do and immediately flick my gaze to the top of my knees as I hear the snap of the man’s neck and then the thud of his body hitting the floor beside me.
A violent shiver takes over me from head to toe.
I’ve always known what Mauro does for his family.
The way he wields his strength to destroy his enemies.
It should frighten me. Give me unimaginable nightmares. Have me running for the nearest exit.
But this is the world I’ve grown up around, one I’ve learned to understand if not fully accept. And strangely, instead of fear, there’s a sense of safety in knowing where his loyalty lies.
