The devil you begged for

012

LORENZO

~•~

Before she asked if I killed her family, I already knew she had heard the conversation between me and Romano. She did a pretty bad job at hiding it. Surely she didn’t think dragging her feet through the house and avoiding my eyes would clear her of suspicion, did she?

Also, the file that was in front of my office was a dead giveaway.

So when she finally asked…

“Yes,” I answered simply, watching as her face fell. “It was necessary.”

She staggered, leaning against the kitchen counter. The sound of the bottle crashing to the floor was satisfying. I watched her carefully as she shook with rage. Her shoulders were trembling as though my words were pressing on her very bones.

In a split second, she turned around, grabbed a knife, and charged at me. She didn’t hesitate. Her hands shook, but her intent was clear.

For a moment, I let her hold it, let her believe she could reach me. Not because I wanted to offer myself up to her out of guilt. No. I wanted to see if she’d falter. I wanted to see if she was brave enough to actually put a blade through my chest. But she never flinched. She would have successfully stabbed me if I had allowed it.

I almost smiled.

This was the first time I was seeing such raw emotions from her since the first day she arrived at mine. She was always so polite, guarded, and looking at me with wary eyes. But finally, I could see the real her.

It excited me.

I caught her wrist right before the knife reached my chest, twisting easily until the knife clattered to the floor. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she looked up at me. She was furious. For the first time, I saw what she truly thought of me. She hated me. She wanted me dead that very second.

Unfortunately, she could do nothing with her anger.

It was a good thing though. Hate was useful. Hate kept people alive.

“You think you can kill me like this?” I questioned quietly, dropping the glass of wine on the kitchen aisle behind me. She raised her free hand but that was also caught just as easily as the first. Both of her wrists fit easily into my hand. I spun her around and pinned her against the aisle, forcing her to feel just how powerless she was. “With shaky hands and no strength? Come on, Isla.” I chuckled.

She knew better than that. If an untrained girl could kill me out of anger, then I didn’t deserve to lead my men.

I leaned in, making sure she could feel my breath in her ear. “If you want my life, you have to be a lot stronger than that.”

She struggled to get out of my hold. When she realized it was futile, she gave up with a hiss, still glaring at me with gritted teeth.

“You might get your chance someday,” I whispered, tightening my grip for emphasis before letting go. She rubbed the spot where I held her, glaring like she wanted to tear me apart with her eyes alone.

I smiled at the sight.

This was a lot better than I expected. I knew she’d hate me if she overheard us but I didn’t think she would try to kill me on the spot, not caring that she would fail and I would end up killing her instead. She knew she had nothing left to lose so she could gamble with her life however she wanted.

Luckily for her, I needed her, so I wasn’t going to let her die, not yet.

For now, I just needed to break her and mold her back into the perfect woman I wanted her to be. It would take some time but it would be worth it. Her attitude today told me such.

I picked up my wine glass, sipping slowly, savoring the taste, savoring the look on her face. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths, her expression the perfect balance of fury and grief.

“You want to kill me?” I tilted my head, studying her. “Then get stronger, Isla. Learn how to hold a knife without trembling. Learn how to look a man in his eye and slit his throat.” This was actual advice I was giving to her. She needed it. “Do that, and maybe you’ll succeed one day.”

Her mouth parted but no words came out. I could see her thoughts running wild. She wanted to scream at me, curse me, maybe even try again. But she didn’t. She stood there, rigid. Eyes on me like I was both the devil and the person keeping her alive.

She wouldn’t be wrong about that.

I let the silence stretch, enjoying the tension until it was almost unbearable for her. Then I chuckled softly, gave her my back, walked toward the fridge, and reached for another bottle. The message was clear: she wasn’t dangerous enough to worry me yet. She was a smart girl. She knew what I meant.

“Dinner will be in an hour,” I informed her, dropping the bottle of water next to her. “Wash your face before you come down. You look like a ghost.”

With those words, I left her alone in the kitchen. When I glanced over my shoulder, she was still frozen, fists clenched, and eyes burning.

Perfect. I wanted her to be angry. I wanted her to be desperate. I wanted her to dream of killing me every night because the more she thought of it, the more she’d sink deeper into my world without even realizing it. And one day, when she realized she’d never be able to kill me, she’d break.

Or maybe she’d surprise me.

Either way, it would be well worth the wait.

Ricardo joined me on the way to my office. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lorenzo.”

“When have I ever played a safe one?” I questioned in response.

Isla had so much potential. I couldn’t wait to see what else I could do with her.