Eyes So Blue I Drown

08

ARABELLA

The menace in his gaze shifts to something else entirely as he plants his hands on the bar, leaning in and boxing me between his arms. His voice lowers, venomous. "You know you being related to Luca is an enough reason for me to ruin your life."

Luca who? The name rolls off his tongue so confidently that I can't afford to look clueless by asking.

"Oh, puh-lease," I scoff, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "I never settle in one place, especially not for one person. And if you're so scared of him, well, I can't help you there." I tap a finger against my lips, feigning boredom. "I'm here for fun, nothing more."

I barely have time to relish the effect of my taunt before his hand clamps around my arm, yanking me off the stool. I stumble as he drags me down a dimly lit hallway and into a private office, shoving me roughly against the wall.

Before I can protest, his hands are all over me, groping through my clothes in a frantic search for something. His touch is rough, almost punishing, and my breath catches when his palms sweep over my dress. He's looking for a wire-or worse-a weapon. But thankfully I have kept the tiny drug bottle somewhere very safe. It's very tiny I could easily hide it in my hair.

"Jesus," I snap, my voice cutting through the tension. "You're not going to find one, no matter how hard you look."

His sharp gaze drops to the rapid pulse in my throat, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick back to mine. He's not just searching for weapons; he's digging deeper, trying to peel back my layers and uncover my secrets.

My breath quickens under his scrutiny, and he notices that too. His grip remains firm, unrelenting. This isn't sexual to him; his eyes burn with suspicion and fury. He's daring me to break, to tell him to stop. But I won't give him the satisfaction.

"Who the fuck are you?" he growls, finally stepping back.

I inhale deeply, my heart pounding against my ribs. His accent grows thicker when he's pissed, a detail that, for some inexplicable reason, makes me smile.

"You already know," I reply sweetly, leaning into the sugary tone. "Arabella Hendrix. Pleased to meet you, Mr...?"

Come on, hot snack, spill your name.

He steps back further, sizing me up like I'm some kind of puzzle he can't quite figure out. I've caught him off guard, and I can tell he's not used to it.

Taking advantage of the moment, I let my eyes rake over him. Dressed in a sleek black leather jacket and low-slung jeans, he exudes power and danger. Everything about him screams untouchable, his aura like a shield few would dare to penetrate. It's unsettling how strangely attractive I find his dangerous presence. Almost.

This feels like him, though, the same kind of intensity. Yet this man before me is... slightly more tolerable.

The name Luca lingers in my mind, and a chilling suspicion takes root. Could he be talking about the man who kidnapped me? I'm not insane. It has to be him. He saw me with him at his house.

"You've got exactly five seconds to tell me what the hell you're doing in my club," he says, his voice dropping into a cold, deadly monotone. "Before you wish you'd never set foot in here."

Once again, I flash him a slow, taunting smile. There's no doubt in my mind he's carrying a weapon, nor do I doubt he'd hesitate to use it if I pushed him too far. In fact, his dark eyes are glinting with the very thought of disposing of me like yesterday's trash.

But I have nothing left to lose, and I'm curious to see just how far I can push him. Even so, the real reason I'm here, the task I was sent to complete, looms large in my mind.