Page 55 of His Cruel Exception

And the sex? God, the sex is off the charts.

I know Antonio has a certain way he likes things, and I've been trying my best to keep up with him. It's not that I don't enjoy what we do, because I do. The man has ruined me in ways I'm not sure I'll ever recover from, and I'd be lying if I said I wanted him to stop.

But sometimes I worry that I'm not enough for him, that there are things he wants that I might not be able to give him, and I can't help wondering if he'll eventually get bored. When I finally worked up the courage to ask if he wanted to find someone who could keep up with him, he fixed me with a glare and told me never to bring it up again.

He then proceeded to tie me to the headboard of his bed and fucked me until I was a panting, sobbing mess. And by the time he was done with me, I could barely string two words together, much less remember why I'd thought bringing up another person was a good idea in the first place.

Suffice it to say, I haven't asked him that question again.

I turn left onto Rockaway Avenue, driving past the local bodegas before making my way to the Parkway. Once the road opens up, I let the Audi fly, enjoying its smooth glide as I catch a string of green lights and cruise past the grand brownstones of Crown Heights.

When I get to the Grand Army Plaza roundabout, traffic has picked up a little. I’m making my way around the massive stone arch when a black van behind me blasts its horn. I glance at the rearview mirror before turning onto Flatbush Avenue and then slow down, expecting the impatient bastard to overtake me and speed off.

Instead, he stays right behind me.I shake my head and press on the gas, putting some distance between us as I continue on my way. I stay in the left lane and make my way onto Interstate 478, taking me directly into the mouth of the Hugh L. Carey Tunnel.

Going from the sunlight into the bright, tiled tunnel is always such a trip. I love the way the Audi sounds in here, so I crack the window open to hear the satisfying echo of its exhaust bouncing off the walls. I’m approaching the other end of the tunnel when a long, impatient blast of a horn cuts through the noise.

Frowning, I glance at my side mirror and see the same black van from earlier, still right behind me. What’s this guy’s problem? I have no idea why he keeps blasting his horn when there’s more than enough room for him to overtake me and be on his way. He flashes his headlights again before accelerating, and I glance at my side mirror as the van pulls up beside me.

Just as I'm coming out of the tunnel, he suddenly swerves into my lane, cutting me off. I slam on the brakes, my heart jumping into my throat as the tires screech and the Audi comes to a stop just inches from the van.

Before I can even process what just happened, the van’s doors swing open and two men jump out. One heads straight for my side of the car while the other moves around to the passenger side. I quickly reach for the door lock, but the man approaching me pulls something from his jacket and smashes it against my window. Glass scatters across my lap, and I throw my arms up to protect my face as he reaches inside and unlocks the door.

“Get away from me!” I shout, trying to push him back.

He grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me to him. My seat belt restricts me, and he reaches across me and presses the release. The next thing I know, I'm being dragged out of the Audi. I grab at his arm and kick out, managing to connect with his shin, but it only earns me a hard punch to the stomach. The air leaves my lungs, and I double over, coughing as the second man grabs my arms and pulls them behind my back.

“Let me go.” I shout, twisting in their grip.

No matter how hard I struggle, I can't break free. One of them pulls a piece of cloth over my eyes and ties it tightly behind my head, plunging everything into darkness before cuffing my hands. Panic shoots through me as they drag me. I hear the door of the van open before they lift me off my feet and throw me inside. I land on my side, pain shooting through my shoulder as the door slams shut.

The van starts moving almost immediately, throwing me against the side as the driver accelerates. The air inside is stuffy, and there's a foul smell of sweat and something rotten that makes my stomach turn.

“Is anybody there?” I call out, my voice echoing in the enclosed space. “You've got the wrong guy.”

No one answers, and all I can hear is the engine and the tires rolling over the road. I don't know who these people are or what they want from me. The van keeps moving for what feels like forever, and I lose track of how long we've been driving. Eventually, the smooth road gives way to something rougher, and I have to brace myself against the floor as the van bumps along what I assume is a dirt road.

A few minutes later, it slows down and comes to a stop. My stomach twists when I hear the engine cut off, followed by the sound of doors opening and closing. I sit up, straining to hear what's happening outside, but before I can make sense of the muffled voices, the door opens.

Someone grabs me by the arm and hauls me to my feet and I stumble as he drags me out. “Where are you taking me?” I demand, trying to pull away.

He only tightens his grip and shoves me forward. I hear a door creak open, and a moment later, I'm pushed inside somewhere. The air is cooler here, and our footsteps sound louder as he leads me farther in.

I really, really hope Antonio has someone following me around. At this point, I wouldn't even mind finding out that he's had a tracking chip implanted somewhere in my body, because I have no idea how I'm going to get out of this.

When someone finally removes my blindfold, I blink a few times, adjusting my glasses as my eyes get used to the light. I'm in an empty room with bare walls and a white fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling. There's no furniture, and the only door is the one I was dragged through.The door opens again, and I can't believe my eyes when I see who walks in.

Vincent, the manager at The Bloodrot, strolls into the room with two other men. “I told you I can get him for you, did I not?” he says, pointing at me.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. My eyes move between the three men as I try to make sense of what I'm seeing. Why would Vincent help kidnap me? I've never had a problem with him, at least none that I'm aware of. And who are these other men? What could they possibly want with me?

“Now, all we have to do is wait for Antonio Scalera to come for him,” one of the men says. He's stocky, with brown hair and dark eyes that remain fixed on me as he speaks. “I knew this plan would work, Cosimo.”

The other man, Cosimo, nods, looking me over with an expression I don't like. “Let's get to it.”

Chapter

Twenty-Eight