Page 34 of Bound in Vengeance
Before the bastard can pull the blade back for a fatal plunge into my ribs, I drop my gun, grab his wrist with my good hand, and twist it until the bone snaps. He screams, dropping the knife, but I don’t give him a chance to breathe. I drive my knee directly into his chest, forcing him back, and plunge my fingers into his throat, slamming him onto the concrete until he goes limp.
Across the dock, Valerio eliminates the last two standing men, the sharp cracks of his weapon fading into a heavy, suffocating silence.
The theft is stopped. The drug package is secure. But the cost is dripping steadily onto the cold ground. My blood.
I lean against a shipping container, clutching my forearm. Blood—dark, thick, and hot—is pouring from the gash, soaking through my torn sleeve and staining my fingers. My breathcomes in ragged, uneven hits, my heart hammering against my ribs as the initial rush begins to clear, leaving behind a raw, pulsing agony.
Valerio jogs over to me, his face pale under the amber dock lights as he sees the state of my arm. He immediately pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and presses it hard against the wound.
"Jesus, Alessandro. That's deep," Valerio mutters, his brow furrowing as the fabric instantly turns crimson. "We need to move. Now. I’ll call the house doctor to meet us at the estate to stitch you up before you bleed out in the car."
I shake my head, a harsh, jagged growl ripping from my throat as I shove his hands away. "No. No doctor at the estate."
"Alessandro, you're losing too much blood?—"
"I said no!" I snap, my eyes flashing with a dangerous light.
Valerio purses his lips at me. “So, what do you plan to do?”
Bleeding, exhausted, and absolutely furious, a dark, reckless idea begins to take root in my mind.
The vulnerability of the injury, combined with the pure, unadulterated rage of Luca's constant disrespect, pushes me past the point of reason. I don't want a clinical, sterile doctor patching me up while I sit around waiting for the next strike. Iwant to test the boundaries of the girl who claims to hate me. I want to see if she'll break.
I decide to take a risk.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SIENNA
Sleep is eluding me, and it’s all Alessandro’s fault.
God, I hate him.
So much.
But my body doesn’t seem to get the memo.
I angrily fluff my pillow and lie down again, forcing my eyes to shut. But the memories afflict me, and it’s almost like I can hear his words vibrating right in my ear.
You know what I wish? That we finish what we started that first night. You on my bed as I sink my cock into you. Filling your stubborn mouth with my cum and watching you swallowwith tears in your eyes. Then you'll thank me for letting you worship me like that.
Is he insane?
Yes, he has to be insane.
I’m not letting him within two feet of me anymore, let alone thanking him for letting him touch me. Is he stupid? In what world would that be possible?
First off, I think I’m way better than him. If anyone should be thanking the other, it’s him. He should thank me for letting him breathe the same air as me.
I turn again, slinging an arm over my eyes with a frustrated groan. It must be past midnight and I desperately need to sleep.
I sit up, take several deep breaths in the dark, and finally lie back down. But the second my head hits the pillow, memory strikes.
Tonight, I want you to masturbate. And you're going to do it thinking of me, the man who now owns your life.
“Fuck!”
I sit up abruptly, hating how easily the curse word slips out of my mouth. I try so hard not to cuss, but Alessandro ticks me off in the absolute worst way.
