I slide my hand from his, resisting the urge to wipe it against my dress.
I wouldn’t want to ruin such a pretty dress anyway.
Just as I’m walking out, Mark calls out, “I’ll be seeing you, Adeline.”
The second the door closes, Zade growls beneath his breath, “You’ll be dead before that will ever happen.”
I never thought I’d condone murder, but with Mark… maybe I can overlook it just this once.
Another week passes, and Zade continues to haunt my house. My dreams. My goddamn nightmares. And in this moment, with Zade’s hand firmly wrapped around the column of my throat, squeezing until my vision blackens, it feels less like a nightmare and more like Hell.
For the tenth time, I freeze and can’t seem to coerce my limbs to move. Heat lashes at my insides, and the raw look in his eyes-the unrelenting pleasure he takes out of draining the life from me-it does nothing but stoke the single flame burning in my core.
He lets go with a click of his tongue and a sidelong look. As if he knows precisely how twisted up my organs are.
Fuck him.
I’m sweating profusely and becoming increasingly irritated beyond belief. He keeps calling me little mouse, but mice don’t look like drowned sewer rats last time I checked.
“You’re ten times larger than me, you expect me to break a chokehold?” I snap, more so out of embarrassment for my continued failure.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Zade says patiently, a tiny smirk lifting his lips. I’m going to punch him.
“I’ve tried several times,” I point out. “And failed.”
“Because you’re not listening. You’re hardly even moving.”
I scoff and argue, “I am too.”
He cocks a brow, unimpressed. “Every time I choke you, you just get flustered and try to knee me in the dick. You’re not doing the movements I’ve taught you to do.”
Blood rises to my cheeks, and I just know that I look like a bright red cherry.
“That’s a lie,” I shoot back. He just smirks and grabs my throat in a tight grip, pushing me back against the wall behind me. My eyes round, and if I had any sense, I’d do the movements he’s been walking me through for the past hour.
But all I can do is stare.
“Break the hold, Addie,” he says quietly, his deep voice sending delicious shivers down my spine.
I go to clear my throat but then remember it’s being crushed by Zade’s rather large hand.
You can do this Addie. You’re only hot because you forgot to open the window.
Lifting my arm, I twist forward and bring it over his extended arm, and jerk down with all my strength. His arm stays tight and his body twists with mine, counteracting my escape.
“You can’t do that!” I shout, my fist bounding off his steel muscles when I go to land a punch on his chest.
He releases me.
“Do you really think an attacker is going to do what you want them to do? If you’re attempting escape, they’re going to do everything in their power to make sure you don’t succeed.”
I huff, out of breath and ready to go back to kneeing him in the balls, or attempting to, at least. Maybe I’ll just drop kick them instead. Even if my toe merely grazes the hairs on his balls, I’ll feel more accomplished than I do now.
“You’re too slow. I can see your intent from a mile away. You need to be quicker, catch me off guard from the swiftness and strength of your attack.”
He goes through the movements with me several more times, keeping his hands loose as he guides my arms.
We’ve been doing this all week. Now that Mark has set his eyes on me, Zade is paranoid that I will go missing in the dead of night.
I’ve seen his eyes crease with worry when he explains the possible threat looming over my head. A threat far more serious than Max and his cronies.
Zade’s men have been lingering outside my place, and I get the feeling they’ve been there since the moment I walked out of Mark’s house. I hadn’t noticed them until a few days ago, and my lack of awareness did knock some sense into me.
The frustration of my situation mounts as I fail once more at breaking free of Zade’s chokehold. I wouldn’t need to know any of this shit if Zade would’ve just left me alone. Let me live my life in peace and blissful ignorance of the terrors of the world surrounding me.
I was happy. Bored, but happy.
And now my very own stalker is teaching me self-defense moves. Not against himself, but his enemies. The irony is not lost on me, unlike my success in not getting choked to death.
“This is all your fault, you know,” I hiss, a bead of sweat dripping into my eye. The burn is minuscule compared to the fire raging in my chest.
Zade stills, and his eyes study me closely. “Is it?” he counters.
“You pretend like you care about me, or whatever you convince yourself that you feel for me, but I’ve been in danger because of you. You do know that, right? Max would’ve never came aft-“
He steps into me, and my mouth involuntarily snaps shut. His presence is powerful and invokes my will to bend to him. Whether I want it to or not.
“Don’t pretend like fucking Archie would’ve been the end of it. The man would’ve dragged you into a life full of pain and suffering, and Max and the rest of them would’ve stood idly by while Archie destroyed you from the inside out. I saved you from that life.”
I snarl. “But he wouldn’t have come after me if you didn’t kill Arch.”
“You’re right, and that was my mistake to not take out Max when I took down the rest of Archie’s family. But I’m not going to apologize for what I did. Had I left you and Archie alone, you would’ve been hurt and traumatized, and I would’ve ended up killing him anyway. If I hadn’t killed him for touching what’s mine, I would’ve for hurting you instead. Archie’s fate was sealed the moment he led you up those stairs.”
“
You traumatized me.”
He leans down and snips, “A gun in your pussy certainly is traumatizing, little mouse, but only because I used it to make you come, not to make you bleed.”
I snarl, refusing to acknowledge that. “And Mark? I would’ve never been on his radar.”
“False,” he snaps. “Mark didn’t show up at Bailey’s because of me, Adeline. And he wasn’t seated where he could get a perfect view of you because of me. I brought no attention to you whatsoever and did my best to keep him distracted, but I can’t control a man’s wandering eye. Even if you’re a decade older than his normal taste.”
I balk, disgust curling deep at his implication.
“You knew I was at Bailey’s,” I guess. “And you knew he was heading there? So why not redirect him somewhere else?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.