Sold by Clarissa Wild
Harper
Where the hell have those documents gone?
I search through the other drawers and cabinets, but they’re nowhere to be found. Mario must’ve put them somewhere else.
Did he realize I was snooping?
When the door clicks, I quickly put away everything I misplaced and jump back into my seat right in time for him to come back inside.
“Oh …” he mutters, pointing at a pen that’s clearly not in the drawer anymore. “I thought I’d cleaned up the place before.”
“Sorry, I needed to write something down,” I lie.
It’s the only good thing I can come up with to cover for myself. And I hope he’ll believe it.
“For what?”
I stare at him, unable to form an answer. Instead, I pick up the special tea he made and chug it down in one go. It tastes awful and makes me want to puke, but I swallow it down with tears stinging my eyes.
“I just wanted to write something down that I want to say to Marcello. In case I forget,” I say in a moment of clarity.
“Oh, I see. I do that, too, sometimes.” He puts the pen away. “As an old man, you tend to forget the important things.” He chuckles, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
After putting my cup down, I get up and say, “Thanks for the tea. And the bandage. I should get back to my room now.” I clear my throat and walk toward the door. No point in staying if he hasn’t got what I need.
But as I open the door, he says, “I know you’ll eventually get what you want.”
I pause and take in his words. Does he know about my search? Or does he mean Marcello?
Cryptic.
Typical of Marcello … but Mario? Maybe I underestimated him.
But these final words prove he knows more than he lets on.
“Thanks,” I reply, and I leave before he tries to stop me.
But one thing’s for sure—they’re both hiding something from me, and I will find out what it is, even if it is the last thing I do on this earth.
When the evening arrives, I lie in bed awake. I can’t sleep, no matter how much I toss and turn. I can’t stop thinking about those documents and where Mario could’ve hidden them. Or if Marcello took them and placed them somewhere I won’t ever find them.
He must know about my quest to find more information about my parents.
Why else would the documents suddenly be missing?
When I asked him if he’d killed them, I saw something flicker in his eyes. Fear. Heat. Rage. All at once, like a magnificent inferno of emotions waiting to combust.
I needed to light the flame, but we never got further than that because he quickly cut me off. Even if he did say it was truth or dare, nothing could stop him from lying.
What if he did kill them?
And I’m letting this man walk all over me, use me, fuck me, like some pretty doll he bought at a store?
I should be fighting back. I should use this information, his guilt, to make him admit the truth. And then hopefully I can find some justice either by calling the cops when I have the chance or … by killing him.
I sigh. It sounds good in my head. My parents deserve justice and retribution.
But I don’t know if I could actually go through with that.
I’d thought about it ever since he bought me, but I can never bring myself to actually pick up a weapon and do it.
Every time I try, he’s right there, looking at me with those same dark, penetrating eyes that make my throat clamp up and my heart stop. Something about the way he moves, acts, talks, and licks his lips makes me beg for more.
And I’m not the type to beg. Not at all.
But this man …
He’s got me under his control.
And I hate it. I hate myself for letting Marcello wrap me around his finger, for letting him fuck me against the mirror, for letting him have his way with me without fighting back.
I should use his needs to my advantage. Play him with his own selfish, greedy fuckery.
As they say, all is fair in love and war.
Suddenly, my door handle is pushed down. I contemplate sitting up straight and grabbing a pillow to throw, but it’ll probably only worsen the situation. Instead, I close my eyes again and pretend to be asleep.
Marcello’s footsteps are audible. His gait is distinguishable from Mario and the rest of his staff. The door closes. My heartbeat rises, and it’s pounding with every step he takes, closer and closer, until he’s right beside me. Within seconds, his breath is on my skin.
I suck in a breath as his lips graze along my ear.
“I know you’re not sleeping.”
My eyes burst open to find Marcello standing next to my bed, staring straight back at me with a devilish smile on his face.
Then he walks off toward the couch in the back of my room and sits down with his legs spread and his hands on either side of the headrest. He stares at me as though he’s waiting for me to do something, but I don’t know what. Is this another test?
I sit up in the bed and stare right back at him until he opens his mouth again.
“You snooped through Mario’s drawers again today.”
My cheeks flash with heat, and I find it hard to hide the redness flushing through them.
“Don’t deny it,” he says, cocking his head. “I’ve seen the footage.”
Shit. There were cameras there, too. I didn’t see any, so they must’ve been hidden somewhere.
“You won’t find those documents again,” he adds.
“You know something about my parents, and you refuse to tell me what it is,” I say through gritted teeth. “Did you kill them?”
He rubs his stubbly cheek. “No.”
I frown. “You want me to behave, yet you won’t even tell me the truth.”
“That is the truth. I didn’t kill them.” He leans forward and taps his fingers against each other. “Swear it on my mother.”
“Your mother? And how am I supposed to know what that means, if it means anything?”
He balls his fist. “It means everything.”
I swallow. Maybe I should believe him. If he did kill them, he wouldn’t bring me here, would he? Because that’d be like bringing an assassin into your very home, and he’s not that stupid, is he?
“You want some freedom? To know the truth?” he asks, leaning back against the couch again. I nod in response. His tongue darts out to wet his top lip. “You’ll have to earn it.”
He glares at me with insatiable eyes, and I can’t help but clench my legs. Fuck.
I guess I’m going to have to pay for this the hard way, just like I thought.
