Page 2 of Read This Before the Villain falls in Love with You

The sore-throated one spits out the window. "I'll sue you for my trachea."

"Good luck finding a judge who pities a guy who gets beat up by a woman in Louboutins," I fire back, tapping my heel against his car mat.

"Sal doesn't really do lawyers," the young one chuckles, flashing a dimpled grin that makes me want to kick his teeth in. "I'm Matteo, by the way. Since we're going to be spending some quality time together."

"I don't give a shit what your name is," I snap , narrowing my eyes at him. "Pull this fucking car over and let me out before you turn a kidnapping charge into a murder trial."

"A murder trial?" Matteo laughs, leaning back against his headrest. "Who are you going to kill with zip ties, sweetheart?"

"You, if you call me sweetheart again," I reply coldly.

"See, that's the spirit I was hoping for," Matteo beams, completely unfazed by the threat. "Very dramatic. You'd do great on television."

The driver glances in the rearview mirror and swears in Italian. Matteo leans his head back against the seat and lets out a soft chuckle.

"You think this is funny?" I demand, pulling at the plastic against my wrists.

"A little bit, yeah," Matteo admits, checking his watch. "Usually there is much more screaming and praying at this stage."

"You have the wrong person," I say, leaning toward the front console.

"That's what they all say," Matteo scoffs, waving a dismissive hand.

"No, you absolute idiot, listen to me," I hiss, leaning forward until the zip ties bite into my wrists. "I run a London crisis firm. I deal with billionaires. You grabbed the wrong woman."

Matteo inspects his thumb before glancing back at me. "A crisis manager? Oh no, Sal, did you hear that? The press might issue a stern reprimand."

"I am going to strip your entire family of every asset you own," I state, keeping my eyes fixed on his. "Starting with that horrific knockoff jacket."

Sal, from the front seat, still rubbing his throat, mutters something to the driver in Italian. The driver answers without turning around. Matteo watches me with an expression I will later learn to recognize as his default setting, delighted amusement in the face of catastrophe.

"You talk like you rehearsed that," he notes, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"I don't usually practice getting abducted on my break, so no," I snap, digging my heels into the floor mat.

Sal grunts from the front. "She talks too much. Put the rag back on her."

"Touch me with that rag again and I'll bite your fingers off, Sal," I snap.

"Could have fooled me. Very smooth. Ten out of ten delivery," Matteo applauds softly, clapping his palms together twice.

"I will fucking destroy you." I hold his gaze with cold, absolute venom. Matteo bursts out laughing, shaking his head as he wipes a tear from his eye.

"She's feisty," he nudges Sal, who merely glares ahead, his throat still mottled purple. "I fucking like her."

"You won't like me when I get these ties off and shove them down your throat."

Matteo smirks and holds up his fingers. "I'd give you five minutes before you break a nail trying."

"I will break your jaw first," I reply without missing a beat.

"Promises, promises," he winks.

The car eventually stops at a private airport, and they walk me up the stairs of a jet that costs more than my home, one hand gripping each of my arms like I might sprout wings. I consider screaming again and decide against it, because there is no one here to hear me except men who work for whoever is paying for this jet, and screaming into a void is not a strategy, it is just waste of oxygen.

"Seatbelt," Matteo murmurs once we're settled, leaning over me to click the metal tongue into the buckle. "Safety first, sweetheart."

"You bound my fucking wrists and now you're worried about a bumpy flight?" I ask, incredulous.