Read Online Ruthless: Mob Boss Book One by Michelle St. James - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle St. James
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voice, but she didn’t have a chance to analyze it further. The car started, and then they were in motion.
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride.” He laughed like it was some kind of joke.
She tried to think of another way to escape, but it didn’t take long to admit to herself that it was futile. She would have to stay alert, look for an opportunity when they got back to the building where they were keeping her. Maybe Luca would be there. She hung onto the possibility like a life boat in a stormy sea.
They twisted and turned through the streets of New York City. The pasta she’d eaten at Nico’s had turned sour in her stomach, and she was fighting motion sickness when the car finally slowed down, then stopped altogether.
“Home, sweet home,” Dante said.
She heard him get out of the car and braced herself for another assault. He grabbed her already-sore arm, then dragged her from the car.
She thought he would remove the pillowcase, but it remained on her head even after she heard a lock turn, felt the warm rush of air as he shoved her inside. He moved her roughly down a set of stairs, and then she was being pushed forward, too grateful for the distance opening up between them to care that she stumbled and fell to the ground.
Her hands went instinctively to the pillowcase. She pulled it from her head, hoping Dante would be gone. But he wasn’t. He was in the room with her, the door closed.
He advanced on her, and she scrambled to her feet, determined to maintain as much control over the situation as possible. She might not be able to stop whatever was coming, but she wouldn’t be cowering from him when it came.
He stopped in front of her, his eyes dropping to her breasts. She was still wondering what was coming when he reached up and ripped open her blouse, as easy as if it were made of paper.
Her hands went up, instinctively trying to cover her body by holding together the two pieces of green silk. But it was no use. He was fast, and he grabbed her wrists and held them together, crushing them in one of his hands and backing her up against the wall.
He lifted her arms over her head and pressed his body into hers. His excitement was obvious through his jeans, and she turned her head, wanting to deny this was happening. She tried to get away, but his hands might have been made of steel for all the progress she made.
“You were with the boss awhile,” he said, grinding his hips into hers. “Must be good.”
Her stomach turned as his words echoed in her head.
The boss...
The boss...
Nico was Dante’s boss. Didn’t that means something—something important—in the mafia?
“Nico won’t like this,” she gasped as he lowered his head to her breasts.
He looked up. “What did you say?”
“I said...” Would mentioning Nico make her situation worse? It didn’t matter. It was all she had. “Nico won’t like this.”
He hesitated. “What? You think your father makes you special ?”
“I don’t know, but Nico said it would hurt his business if something happened to me.”
Dante straightened, dragging his eyes from her chest to her face. “He said that?”
“Yes.”
“But he had you.”
She shook her head. “He didn’t.”
“Then why did he bring you to his apartment?” he asked.
“I... I don’t know. He just wanted to talk to me, I think.” She licked her lips. This was working. “He said he has to keep me safe to get what he wants.”
It was a white lie, but the stakes were too high to stand on principle. Maybe Nico had insinuated that keeping her alive only mattered as long as he got what he wanted from her father. But he would get it, and he had said that it was better for his business to keep her alive.
The seconds seemed to tick into infinity. Dante’s eyes glazed over as he thought about what she said. She sensed a reprieve, and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest while she waited for him to speak.
Finally, he let go of her hands and stepped back. The
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride.” He laughed like it was some kind of joke.
She tried to think of another way to escape, but it didn’t take long to admit to herself that it was futile. She would have to stay alert, look for an opportunity when they got back to the building where they were keeping her. Maybe Luca would be there. She hung onto the possibility like a life boat in a stormy sea.
They twisted and turned through the streets of New York City. The pasta she’d eaten at Nico’s had turned sour in her stomach, and she was fighting motion sickness when the car finally slowed down, then stopped altogether.
“Home, sweet home,” Dante said.
She heard him get out of the car and braced herself for another assault. He grabbed her already-sore arm, then dragged her from the car.
She thought he would remove the pillowcase, but it remained on her head even after she heard a lock turn, felt the warm rush of air as he shoved her inside. He moved her roughly down a set of stairs, and then she was being pushed forward, too grateful for the distance opening up between them to care that she stumbled and fell to the ground.
Her hands went instinctively to the pillowcase. She pulled it from her head, hoping Dante would be gone. But he wasn’t. He was in the room with her, the door closed.
He advanced on her, and she scrambled to her feet, determined to maintain as much control over the situation as possible. She might not be able to stop whatever was coming, but she wouldn’t be cowering from him when it came.
He stopped in front of her, his eyes dropping to her breasts. She was still wondering what was coming when he reached up and ripped open her blouse, as easy as if it were made of paper.
Her hands went up, instinctively trying to cover her body by holding together the two pieces of green silk. But it was no use. He was fast, and he grabbed her wrists and held them together, crushing them in one of his hands and backing her up against the wall.
He lifted her arms over her head and pressed his body into hers. His excitement was obvious through his jeans, and she turned her head, wanting to deny this was happening. She tried to get away, but his hands might have been made of steel for all the progress she made.
“You were with the boss awhile,” he said, grinding his hips into hers. “Must be good.”
Her stomach turned as his words echoed in her head.
The boss...
The boss...
Nico was Dante’s boss. Didn’t that means something—something important—in the mafia?
“Nico won’t like this,” she gasped as he lowered his head to her breasts.
He looked up. “What did you say?”
“I said...” Would mentioning Nico make her situation worse? It didn’t matter. It was all she had. “Nico won’t like this.”
He hesitated. “What? You think your father makes you special ?”
“I don’t know, but Nico said it would hurt his business if something happened to me.”
Dante straightened, dragging his eyes from her chest to her face. “He said that?”
“Yes.”
“But he had you.”
She shook her head. “He didn’t.”
“Then why did he bring you to his apartment?” he asked.
“I... I don’t know. He just wanted to talk to me, I think.” She licked her lips. This was working. “He said he has to keep me safe to get what he wants.”
It was a white lie, but the stakes were too high to stand on principle. Maybe Nico had insinuated that keeping her alive only mattered as long as he got what he wanted from her father. But he would get it, and he had said that it was better for his business to keep her alive.
The seconds seemed to tick into infinity. Dante’s eyes glazed over as he thought about what she said. She sensed a reprieve, and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest while she waited for him to speak.
Finally, he let go of her hands and stepped back. The
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