‘‘For a moment I actually believed you, well played, London. Maybe your acts of vulnerable are far more deceiving than I first thought, but you can stop. I’m in no mood for tears and sad faces. They do nothing and we’re late, walk faster or I WILL carry you.’’ He warns, all ice and venom and I swear in moments like this I do not feel anything for him except a resounding need to stab him in his smug face. I wonder if a stiletto would make a good choice of weapon and contemplate trying. He really knows how to get my blood pumping and insides churning up like a molten pit of lava.
‘’I think I hate you.’’ I bite at him and turn to deliberately walk as slowly as I can.
‘’Mico … Lift.’’ Alexi orders over my head, and before I get a chance to even figure out what he means, I am hauled up by the arm into Mico’s space as he bends and hoists me up over his shoulder in a fluid silent movement that has me fighting him with a squeal. Futile endeavour and even I know I should give up. Mico seems like he would knock me out in a heartbeat for struggling, and he won’t disobey his master for anything.
Mico is terrifyingly solid and I am now being wench carried by a caveman, I stop struggling and just relent. He turns and starts heading at speed to our ride while Alexi walks at the rear and just raises a sarcastic smile my way, catching my eye and looking like a complete shit head, gazing at me with amusement and obviously patting himself on the back for making me furious.
The anger inside of me is unparalleled and right now, I honestly would enjoy watching him trip and falling flat on his face with smashing results. I stick my fingers up at him in the most unladylike manner and then cross my arms under my bust, levering myself to sort of sit up and plant a look of contentment across my face. I make an awesome show of enjoying the ride. Maybe I am happy to be off my legs and carried to the car.
I won’t let him see him how much he gets to me. His thug can jog along and deposit me in the car; my feet are glad of the respite, and when I get to wherever we are going I am burning all the shoes that Carrero makes a point of insisting I wear.
Not dressing for his club anymore is going to be empowering, I will shred all my formal attire and sexy tailoring and make him eat them. I give no actual fucking shits anymore. His forms of punishment are getting borderline boring. Carrero must be losing his edge.
* * *
‘‘You don’t mingle, you don’t go out if you don’t have to and you don’t have male guests. Same rules still apply here as in the city; you belong to me and if you let any man in your bed or between your legs. I’ll put a bullet in his skull.’’ I stand admiring my nails acting nonchalant while dickhead gives me his demands in his very best soulless demon voice and I sigh, pretending to be interested. There’s only so many times you can hear the ownership speech before it starts to get dull. It doesn’t even instil a tiny flicker of fear this time, just disdain and impatience for the prick to bugger off and leave me alone.
‘’Yadda yadda. Blah blah … death, punishment, emotional torture and don’t disobey … I know the drill, Carrero. You can retire your whips and chains I’ll be almost invisible and play nice so I don’t attract attention.’’ I eye roll at him and then jump when he grabs me by the arm and yanks me with force into his torso so that I’m shaken alert and almost choke on my own saliva with the shock of being grabbed. I swear my brain just bounced around my skull.
‘‘It’s not a fucking game, I have enemies everywhere, and they have no qualms about kidnapping women. Just ask my mother if you don’t believe me.’’ He growls it at me, temper brimming and it completely quiets me, heart pounding through my chest.