Page 11 of Ruthless

I look away, my throat dry. Maybe I should leave the games to Dante. Between the two of us, he’s always been better at them. Especially with my head so fuzzy from the alcohol.

From inside the bag, Dante withdraws two pieces of triple chocolate cake, our favorite dessert from our old haunt. A bottle of wine follows, a 2001 Margaux du Chateau Margaux that probably costs more than my monthly rent. Dante pops the cork and reaches for my Bordeaux glass.

“Oh no, I don’t need any more alcohol. My head’s already wooz?—”

“Just a little. For old time’s sake.”

He fills to the widest point and slides it toward me. He pours a smaller glass for himself.

I allow myself a sip as he dishes up the cake. “I really do think we should talk.”

He shakes his head. “Let’s just enjoy for now. Okay? We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”

I temper the urge to protest, rolling my lips together as my eyes dart between his. I feel like I’m on a tightrope, teetering between participating in whatever game this is and demanding he explain himself.

I straighten my spine. If he doesn’t give me the answers I need soon, then I can always get up and leave.

In the meantime, I can savor this chocolate cake, which triggers a mini-orgasm in my mouth. I devour half my piece and continue with tiny sips of wine while Dante steers the conversation back into neutral territory. He assumes the role of charming host, asking thoughtful questions, cracking the occasional joke, and paying easy compliments. Despite the cloud of lingering uncertainty and the anxious voice in the back of my head, I find myself leaning into this moment.

I swallow another bite. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

Dante tilts his head. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

The atmosphere between us shifts. Cools. No,freezes. His expression becomes sinister. Malevolent. I’ve never witnessed this look on his handsome features before.

Alarm bells clang in my head, and the cake turns to ash on my tastebuds.

My fork clatters onto the plate.

“What’s the matter?” Mockery drips from his every word. “Eat up. This might be the last cake you ever have.”

Realization strangles me as I stare down the dangerous stranger sporting a designer watch and a sharp-toothed grin.

The worry flitting through my mind finally solidifies as I absorb the romantic place setting and the cake from our favorite restaurant. Both things that require advance notice to set up.

“Wait. How did you know I’d even be here tonight?”

Chapter 4

Dante

I watch with vicious satisfaction as Sara stumbles out of her seat and attempts to stagger past me. She cries out when I snag her wrist and struggles to free herself. Losing patience, I hook her around the waist and hoist her into my lap.

She goes rigid as I press my lips to her fragrant hair. Memories of my fist gripping the strands while I fucked her into the mattress torture my mind.

“Don’t waste your energy. You won’t be leaving without my permission, and I’d advise against doing anything stupid unless you want Jeremy to pay for it.”

I meet her horror-filled cornflower blue eyes with a cruel smile.

“Where’s Jeremy?” Her nails dig into my forearms. If only she realized that her violence stirs my cock. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing yet.” I retrieve my phone and unlock the screen, not bothering to hide my passcode. She’s not in a position to take advantage of that information anyway. “And I wouldn’t hurt one of my employees unless you gave me reason to.”

As soon as Jeremy walks into the video’s frame, Sara snatches my phone from my hand. Her nose nearly touches thescreen as her brother conducts his site rounds and performs environmental checks to ensure our data systems are operating flawlessly. Grunt work, really, but my CEO, Patrick Leone, told me the boy was tickled pink when I awarded him the lead.

So easy to please.

Almosttooeasy.