Bought Mafia Bride by Mae Doyle

Natalia

I’ve tried everything that I can think of to break out of this fucking condo but the doors and the windows are all made of some special titanium steel or something and nothing will budge.

Even the windows, which are obviously glass, won’t crack, no matter what I throw at them.

And I’ve tried about everything, believe me.

I glance warily at the remains of the chair I tried to put through the window. It shattered under the impact, the wooden legs popping off the fifth time that I slammed it into the glass, the back of it cracking the sixth time that I tried.

I’m stuck here and there isn’t a damn thing that I can do about it.

Raking my hands through my hair, I plant my hands on my hips and look around the living room. I’ve checked everywhere for something that will help me get out. A key, a hammer, something that will let me break free from here, but there isn’t a damn thing.

There’s just one thing that I haven’t done yet and I’m half afraid to do it, but I don’t think that I have much of a choice. Taking a deep breath, I turn to the bedroom, the same place I was shackled to the wall, the same place I woke up by myself this morning.

“Come on, Natalia, he’s not going to just let you walk free for no good reason,” I tell myself. “If you want out of here, you’re going to have to get yourself out.”

There’s a little voice in the back of my head that tells me that I’m about to do something really fucking stupid. If Dane were to walk in and find me digging through his personal things then I’m pretty sure that he’d be pissed.

Then again, he left me here on my own, didn’t he?

“What did he think was going to happen?” I ask, walking into the bedroom and pausing to look around. I’m pretty sure that there isn’t anything interesting in the bathroom or I would have found it already. If there’s going to be anything in here that I can use then it’s going to be in his closet.

Putting the butcher knife I took from the kitchen down on the bed, I carefully open the closet door. As soon as I do, a light clicks on above me and I freeze, my heart slamming in my chest.

Of course, nobody is here. Dane is the type of man to have lights that turn on automatically when you open the closet. Taking a deep breath, I glance around the space.

At first, it looks like any other closet in any other home. Suits hang from the bar on the right, all of them pressed and crisp, ready for him to wear them. There’s a row of button-up shirts and shoes placed on the floor under the hanging clothes. I let my gaze shift around the walk-in closet to take in the sweaters and jeans and the stack of t-shirts.

There’s a rack for belts and another for ties, but I still haven’t found anything that would give me a clue as to how I’m going to get out of here. If not that, then maybe I’ll be able to find something that will give me some dirt on him. If I can find anything that I can use against him, then maybe he’ll be forced to let me out.

“Yeah, or maybe he’ll kill you, dumbass,” I whisper to myself. I’m well aware that if he were to come home right now and find me in his closet that he’d be pissed, but I haven’t even poked around yet. There’s a dresser at the end of the closet and I walk to it, running my fingers along the hanging suits and feeling their soft fabric.

The top drawer of the dresser is unlocked and slides open without any sound. My eyes widen when I see the ammo sitting there, all of it in boxes, stacked and organized like he needs to be able to grab the right box at a moment’s notice. No guns, though, which is both disappointing and not surprising. I would have been shocked if he had them just sitting out where I could find them.

The next drawer is locked and I tug on it, trying to rattle it open. It doesn’t budge, and I swear, sitting down on the floor to brace my feet against the bottom of the dresser.

Still nothing.

“Come on, you fucker,” I grunt, yanking harder on the drawer. For just a moment I think that it’s going to pop open, but it doesn’t and I sigh, wiping the back of my hand against my brow. The bottom drawer is also locked and I yank hard on it, pulling the handle towards me as roughly as possible in an attempt to pop the damn thing open.

“Where the fuck does he keep the key?” I mutter, grabbing the top of the dresser to pull myself up to a stand. It’s obvious that I’m not going to be able to get this damn thing open right now.

“I keep it in my pocket. Where would you keep it?” The low voice from behind me makes me spin around.

Hell, I thought that my heart was beating fast before? Now it’s about to slam straight out of my chest. Reaching behind me, I grab the dresser for support, clinging to it like it’s going to keep me from falling to my feet. Dane eyeballs me, his mouth quirked up in a smirk, then slowly enters the closet.

I’m trapped here. The walls of clothes on either side of us don’t give me enough room to try to scoot past him. It’s just like when I was in the closet and I tried to make a break for it, only now I don’t even have the chance to try to get past him. He walks right up to me--swaggering towards me like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

I swear, I can feel the heat radiating off of him. My body responds and I feel a flush sweep through me. I want this man, even though I know how dangerous he is. Hell, maybe that’s part of the reason why I want him. There’s something definitely wrong with me, but I can’t help the fact that my core tightens and there’s a definite throbbing between my legs as he gets closer.

“What were you looking for in here?” He asks, finally reaching on either side of me to grab the top of the dresser. He’s got me pinned in place and even though I’d love to try to get away, I feel like my feet are firmly cemented to the floor. “Because I’m sure it wasn’t a weapon. You left your butcher knife out in my bedroom. You looking for some blood play later?”

Oh, fuck. The knife. I’m a damn idiot for leaving it behind, but I never thought that I’d be pinned up here in the bedroom by him. Never once did I consider the fact that he’d come home and find me here. I took too long and I feel my face flame scarlet.

“Still don’t have anything to say?” He cups my cheek in his hand and leans down, his breath warm on my skin. My eyes close on their own accord and I prepare myself for what’s coming next.

I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t going to enjoy it.

“If you were thinking about killing me, Natalia, you’d have to try a hell of a lot harder.” He pauses, and I wait, fully expecting his lips to crash against mine. It’s going to happen, I just know it. There’s no way that he’d be willing to keep me pinned here against him like this, with his cock pressed up against me, without kissing me.

“Run.” As he speaks, he steps back, taking his heat with him. My eyes fly open with surprise at the sudden void left when he moves away and my jaw drops open.

“What?” I manage. My fingers are still curled against the dresser top and they’re starting to ache, but they feel like they’re stuck there now. I’m not sure that I’m ever going to be able to pry them free.

“You want to kill me? Run. Try now. It’s your one chance.”

He can’t be serious, but he’s stepping to the side now, gesturing with his arm like I need his help finding where I left the knife. There’s a part of my brain that’s screaming at me that I’m being stupid, but I still push past him, pumping my arms as I run out of the closet.

It feels like it takes longer to get out of it than it took to reach the dresser, but I finally burst free from the door and grab the knife from the bed, spinning around to look at him.

He’s standing in the closet door now, leaning casually against the frame. I can see the bulge of his gun on his hip and I want to ask him if he’s going to kill me, but my mouth is too dry and all I can do is run at him, the knife held up over my shoulder, my heart beating so loudly in my ears that I don’t even hear myself screaming.