Page 18 of Wrong Pawn. Right Capo.

“You bastard! Out of everything I said, that’s the only thing you deem fit to say?”

“I’m a guard, not a therapist,” he mutters dryly, turning his attention back to the road.

My jaw hangs open. This rude fucker. “I was thanking you!”

He doesn’t respond, just smoothly swerves the wheel into the next turn.

“A simple ‘you’re welcome’ would have sufficed.” Irritated, I jab a finger in his direction. This is the rudest, most arrogant motherfucker I’ve met in my entire life. And trust me, I’ve met a lot of people.

His jaw ticks. “I did my job, not a favor.”

That only ignites my irritation.

“And does the job description include being a grinch with a superiority complex?”

“Quiet, Elena,” he growls, fist tightening around the wheel.

Unbelievable!

I sit up, struggling to contain the anger rising in my chest. No bodyguard I’ve ever had riled me up this much!

“You know what I think? I think that you’re an insufferable bastard, and I want you gone. And I swear I’ll have Enzo kick you out before tomorrow.”

His biceps pulse, and I restrain myself from licking my lips.

“I don’t appreciate baseless threats.”

A surprised smirk curves my lips. “Why? Is your tough-guy façade fading so quickly?”

His gaze finally snaps to me, dark and searching. “There’s no façade, Elena. Only the monster and the lock,” he whispers. “Keep picking the lock and see how hungry he gets.”

Something about the way he says it makes my pulse skip, and my gaze involuntarily falls to his crotch. He catches me, and I quickly look away, suddenly flustered.

“Indulge me, Mr. Cole,” I manage to scoff.

Something shifts in his eyes. A fracture in the armor. The car slows to a stop as Adrian leans closer, his arm still on the steering wheel in front of him. “I don’t indulge, Principessa; I consume, and I take everything... your voice, your fight, your body, and your mind, until all you know is my will and your obedience.”

I swallow thickly. “Is that a threat?”

“A threat?” he smirks, his hand shooting out, fingers wrapping around my throat. “No darling… This is just a reminder. A reminder that if you keep provoking me, I promise you’ll drown in me. In pain…in pleasure. And you’ll beg to go under again.” His gaze darkens with intent, pupils blown wide with something feral.

My breath hitches as his thumb drags heavily across my pulse twice before he lets go.

“Now sit back and be fucking quiet,” he grunts, settling himself in the driver’s seat.

I remain frozen in the backseat, the air between us thickening. Heat creeps into my chest, spreading downward in a way I pretend not to recognize.

I should sit back and keep my mouth shut, just like he said, but that’s not going to satisfy what he’s awakened inside me, so I lean in and muster the strongest voice I can.

“You wouldn’t da—”

Before I can finish, he climbs into the backseat, and his lips crush mine like he’s been waiting for an excuse. His mouth moves slow at first, as if he’s hesitant. Then it deepens and his restraint snaps. His mouth molds to mine with hungry intention, hands gripping my waist as if I’m oxygen and he’s dying.

When his lips trail down my jaw, I gasp from the sharp thrill of his teeth grazing my skin and the realization that we’ve already pulled up and parked inside the mansion. “Adrian, someone will see us…”

“You taunted the devil, Principessa. Time to dine with him,” he growls, breath hot against my neck.

That’s all it takes.