Page 45 of Love Me (Touch of Death 3)
A smug smile dances over his lips as he slowly takes the few steps one at a time. I take a resigned step forward, but one of his men stops me. Enrique removes his sunglasses and stares at me while the guard pats me down, his hands lingering in places they shouldn’t. My husband’s smile only deepens.
“Darling,” he crooks his finger, beckoning me forward.
My legs feel like lead as I walk closer. I know better than to deny him his games. He seems even more repulsive than before. “You’ve returned.”
I tilt my chin up and square my shoulders. “Here I am.” I spread my hands wide, and his grin falters for a moment. It’s then that I see what lingers beneath the mockery—he’s angry, and that never bodes well. “Where is Gabriella?”
He ignores me and instead slides his hand into his jacket pocket before taking my hand. I try to snatch it away, but he grips my wrist so hard that I can almost feel the structures bowing. I clench my teeth hard, and he simply smiles sadistically as he slides my engagement and wedding band onto my finger. “That’s better.”
I snatch my hand away. “Where is Gabriella?” I repeat.
He rolls his eyes dramatically. “She is safe, of course.” Turning away, he walks back up the steps and inside the house.
I follow him, but he pauses when he reaches the threshold, glancing over his shoulder.
“You may go.”
He waves a hand toward Lorenzo, who lingers behind me. I can sense the older man bristling at the dismissal.
“No, he needs to take Gabriella home.”
“Gabriella will be staying a while.” Enrique continues walking.
I stop. “No, I came here in exchange for her.”
Enrique has turned and is in front of me in a heartbeat. His hand clamps around my throat, and he squeezes.
“When did I agree to such terms, dear wife?” He tilts his head, bringing his ear near my lips. “What’s that? Oh, I didn’t. Gabriella stays.” He releases me.
“Then I go,” I say.
He sighs as though bored of this entire conversation. I blink and have a gun in my face. Enrique grits his teeth, looking almost maniacal as his finger lingers over the trigger.
“That’s not your decision to make,” he spits the words. His gaze turns to Lorenzo over my shoulder.
I can’t see the old man’s expression, but I imagine he’s seething with rage.
“As I said, you may leave.” Enrique switches from crazed to calm in an instant.
I’d forgotten the turmoil of trying to keep up with his ever-changing moods. That, in itself, is a torturous mind game because I never know which version of him will appear. It’s near impossible to predict with zero rhyme or reason. I can see why he’s amassed as much power as he has. Men fear him because insanity cannot be reasoned with.
I follow Enrique through the house, and deja vu creeps over me as I walk the exact same route I did the very first day I came here. Only this time, I have his ring on my finger.
As soon as we’re in his office, I can hardly breathe. He can sense my fear like a shark smells blood in the water. Walking to his desk, he takes a seat. Arrogance pours off him, and I hate it.
I inhale a shaky breath and steel myself. The only way I’m going to survive this if I control the situation. I will not be a victim this time around. My shoulders square, and I stride toward him before slamming my palms down on the desk.
“You blew up my family’s home.”
He leans back in his chair and waves a hand through the air. “So dramatic. It was only the front and back doors.”
“You took my sister! Again. I thought we were past this.”
He cocks a brow. “I warned you.”
“I was coming here this morning. I was always going to. You didn’t need to take Gabriella!”
“Were you? I guess we’ll never know since you had a little encouragement.” He leans toward me, bracing his elbows on the desk in front of him. “You tried to fuck me over, Adelina.”
“I needed time. You think killing Sasha Ivanov is easy?”
His eyes pinch. “So, he’s dead?”
“Yes.”
A small smile pulls at the corner of his lip. “You’ve become so good at lying that I may actually believe you.”
I release a hard breath. “He killed my father.” His expression doesn’t move. “Fine. Don’t believe me. I don’t care. I’m here now. Just…release Gabriella.”
“Of course.” He pushes to his feet and a shiver of unease tears over my skin.
Wordlessly, he walks to the door and leaves. I follow him, that sense of unease growing stronger and more unsettling. My stomach bottoms out when he leads me into the kitchen. I know exactly where we’re going. At the back of his huge kitchen is an inconspicuous looking pantry door, but it houses something far more sinister. For me, at least, anyway.
