“I am dressed,” she snaps, and pulls her hand from mine.
I make a show of leaning down and seeing her white shorts molded tight around her ass. Fuck, I can see the outline of her pussy in them, and it makes my mouth water.
“Fine, but pull the sweatshirt down,” I growl.
“I’m not going with you.” Her protest is soft, and we both hear it.
“Thea, what choice do you have?” I ask, crossing my arms. “You lost your job.” When her eyes widen in shock, I shake my head. “You’ve lost your apartment, and that shitty job at Rita’s isn’t enough for you to afford anything else right now. And you owe the biggest kingpin in Los Angeles a debt. You’re going to grab your purse and get your pretty ass in my car. Are we clear?”
She lets out a huff of frustration but walks over and grabs her bag.
“I’ll send someone for the rest of this later,” I say as I wait for her to lock her door, and walk down the stairs with her.
When we get outside, I see Mike and the twins talking right before they get in the car. I know instinctively that Big Shot is in the trunk. There’s no sign of anyone else.
We walk to my car, and I open the passenger door for Thea.
“Are you trying to be a gentleman?” she asks with so much sass and attitude in her voice.
“Are you trying to get spanked for being a brat?” I throw back at her.
Her cheeks turn pink and she slides in the car. But before I close the door, I lean in.
“I won’t always be gentle, angel. But I’m your man now.”
I buckle her up and close the door before walking around and getting in. I already feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders because she’s on her way to my home, to where I can keep her safe and she’ll be mine.
This isn’t exactly how I saw this going down, but it’s good enough to get me what I want. And that’s Thea in my bed, legs spread and being bred with my baby as soon as possible. No condoms, no pills, nothing to stop me. She’s going to be bound to me in every way possible and I’ll make it so she can never leave.
And she’ll be begging for it the whole time.
Chapter 6
Thea
I glance over at Salvatore, wondering what’s going to happen to me. I should be freaking out, crying and screaming. But I don’t have any more tears at the moment. I’m exhausted from the worry, and besides, can things have really gotten any worse?
The last twenty-four hours have been utter hell. First, I lost one of my jobs. Then I find out I have to vacate my apartment within twenty-four hours. I had nowhere to go. Big Shot next door offered to hold some of my boxes for me. Even offered me his sofa, but that wouldn’t be happening. I had to take him up on the offer of holding my stuff, but I couldn’t stay with him. I feel like I’d be safer roaming the streets then lying on his sofa.
But for some reason, seeing Salvatore was a comfort. I figured out who he was a few days after that first night. I saw a picture of him on the news, but I was shocked for the reason why. The city was thanking him for helping fund a new shelter downtown. It seemed so odd. Days before, I’d seen him kill someone. His name sounded familiar, so I did a little digging on one of the computers at work and found out who he really was.
Kingpin.
I saw small forums and side stories about Salvatore being in charge of the Los Angeles mob, but nobody would confirm anything publicly. My first reaction was panic. I was freaking out, but it had been days since everything went down and nothing had happened to me. In fact, food started showing up at my house every night, and I knew it had to be him. His words were still ringing in my ears asking me if I’d eaten that day. I didn’t understand any of it, but hey, I had to eat.
I glance over at him, but his eyes are on the road. I wonder what he’s going to do with me? Don’t men like him go through women like Kleenexes? Why would he want to take me to his place? This is just going to create problems for me later. I think all of that, but in reality, all I have to go off of are old mob movies I’ve watched. So who knows what the hell this guy is about.
We ride in silence. I can’t find the will to ask any questions. I’m too afraid of what answers I might get. There’s no music on the radio, just the sound of the engine and subtle movements from Salvatore. God, there’s something about his hands I can’t stop staring at. The way his arms clench and relax is mesmerizing.
We enter a neighborhood where all the houses are spread apart. As we drive through, I can’t help but think how lavish it looks, like something you’d see on television. Who is this guy?
We reach a rock wall that seems to go on forever before he pulls up to a gate. Salvatore pushes a button on his dash, and the gate opens. He slowly drives up the long driveway leading to a massive house. It has a stone façade and looks like a smaller version of a castle.