Page 28 of The Wrong Monster
“You kidnapped me.”
“Yes.”
The admissions seem to irritate her more than denials would have.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
Her jaw tightens. “I’m not for sale.”
Walking the perimeter of the room with a slow, casual pace, I nudge the duffle bag with my foot and tell her, “It’s professional. That’s all. I’m not so desperate as to need to kidnap women from cities and bring them to my lair, Zvezda.”
That earns a humorless laugh.
“I don’t work for kidnappers.”
“You do now.”
Matilda stares at me.
“I’ve already had someone access your email. Your firm believes you’re taking personal leave for a few weeks. HR was more than thrilled—seems you’ve already capped out at PTO.”
The color drains from her face.
“You forged—”
“I ensured no one would start asking questions before we’re ready.”
“You have absolutely no idea what you’ve done. There are cases—”
“On the contrary.” I interrupt her with a cold, flat voice, brooking no argument. One measured step closer. She doesn’t flinch, to her credit, but she does lean back just slightly.
“I need the world to believe your routine hasn’t changed. Your colleagues, your clients, anyone watching. As far as they’re concerned, Matilda Pierce simply needed some time to relax.”
She moves before I finish speaking.
Fast.
Her palm slices toward my face, but before it makes contact, I catch her wrist inches from my jaw.
She doesn’t hesitate. Instead, she spits.
The saliva lands against my cheek, warm and wet. For a heartbeat, we’re both completely still.
I wipe it away with my thumb, the other hand still locked around her wrist. Then I smile.
Coldly.
“I was hoping you’d do something predictable.”
She twists, trying to wrench free, bringing her other hand up to strike again in a fist this time. I intercept that one too. One controlled movement is all it takes.
Guiding her backward toward the mattress with a slow, relentless pace, I force her down.
Pin both wrists above her head and press my hips to hers, letting my weight sink into her lean body.
I don’t want to hurt her, but I need her to understand—I’m the one in control here. Not her.
