“I guess you’ll actually have to do some work today,” I say.
“You mean I won’t get to sit in your office and learn how to brood? You’re going to get wrinkles from all that glaring. I think it’s time you found a woman,” Gio says, and winks at me.
He’s been telling me this since I was twenty. About the time he wanted to find a wife and settle down. But he hasn’t made any moves to settle down himself. He keeps saying he’s waiting for the one.
Another image of Thea pops in my head, and this time her hips are wide and her belly is round. She’s got my baby inside her and one in her arms. She’s bound to me in every way possible, and I bite my lip to keep from growling. Immediately I want that image to be real. I want her legs spread, taking my seed, so that she can’t ever run from me again. Not like last night. I won’t ever see the back of her. Unless I’ve got her bent over.
“What’s wrong with you? Why are you sweating?” Gio asks, shaking me out of my thoughts.
“Nothing,” I say, and blink a few times.
My path is suddenly clear. I know exactly what I need to do. I’m going to hunt down Thea, and I’m going to breed my baby into her. She’ll be the one to create the next leaders of our organization. She’ll be the queen at my side helping me rule. She’ll be the goddess of my empire and will give me all that I’ve never dared to dream for. She’ll do all of this, and yet right now, she has no idea.
I guess I should go inform her.
Chapter 4
Thea
I don’t know how long I lie in bed, staring up at the paint peeling on my cracked and worn ceiling, not getting the sleep that I need. I finally give up and pull myself from my bed with a deep sigh. The man with the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my life would appear every time I tried to close mine. He’s haunting me.
I walk into my bathroom, the light still on from the day before. I couldn’t bring myself to turn it off after what happened last night. I wanted to keep the dark away, or maybe I wanted to make sure if something came for me I’d see it. I was scared, but something else was lingering. A strange sort of excitement that I can’t understand. There’s something about him. He stirred a strange feeling inside me, but it isn’t fear. Because in that moment, I almost felt safe as he towered over me.
I look at myself in the mirror and groan. I look like hell. The dark circles under my eyes are worse today, but I shouldn’t be surprised after my lack of sleep. I hardly ever wear makeup and I debate digging for some concealer. I know I have some stuck back in this bathroom, but I’ve lost the energy to look. “Forget it,” I mumble to myself. Maybe a shower will wake me up. Hopefully it’ll help me look like I’m not dragging myself around.
I yank my sleep shirt off and pull my underwear down my legs, then turn on the shower. What would be the point of the makeup anyway? I’m not trying to impress anyone. If I’m lucky, maybe I won’t die by the end of the day. For all I know, this could be the last time I walk out of my door. A chill runs down my spine at the thought.
I jump into the water, trying to wash away the sudden chill.
Angel.
The word slips through my mind for the hundredth time, and oddly enough it helps chase away the dark clouds better than the heat of the water. Why did he keep calling me that, and why did he say everything else? Those were the thoughts that kept running through my head and kept sleep from coming.
Putting my head under the thundering water, I wash my hair and my body and stand there until the water starts to turn cold. It’s not like it takes that long in this building anyway. I’m shocked I got as much as I did, but maybe it’s because I’m up early and no one else in the building is hogging it yet. Not many are early risers around here. Normally I’d feel bad, but I can’t seem to care. It’s not like anyone else feels bad when they do it.
Shutting off the shower, I hop out, drying myself off before putting my hair up in the towel to help it dry. I go about my morning routine, finding a clean uniform for Rita’s after I leave my day job. I yawn just thinking about it. When I open my purse, I pause, seeing the money the man had left in there the night before. I pick it up and count it out: five hundred dollars.
I want to cry, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m thankful for it or because I feel dirty that I’m going to keep it. I should call the cops. It’s the right thing to do, but I’m not dumb. I don’t know who he was, but someone with money and likely power isn’t someone I want to mess with. I witnessed a murder last night, and I don’t need to know any more than that. If I want to stay alive, I know I need to keep my mouth shut. I just hope it’s enough.