No way home

Sienna

The weight of what had just happened crashed down on me.

I had basically been kidnapped.

Shoved into a luxurious car with a mafia leader—or gang leader—or whatever the hell he was—the man I hooked up with last night.

And now? I couldn’t escape.

The more I stared out the window, the more civilization faded away. Buildings turned to empty roads. Roads turned to nothing. No people. No signs of life.

A cold dread crept up my spine. My mind reeled.

This year was supposed to be my fresh start. I wanted to make my life better.

Instead, I’d walked straight into my own grave.

I turned to the man beside me. I still didn’t know his name.

Tears I hadn’t realized were there slipped down onto my lap. I caught my reflection in the tinted glass—I looked like a mess.

"Sir." My voice was barely a whisper.

I made myself small, curling in on myself. What was he going to do to me?

Flash after flash of horror filled my mind. Trafficking? Murder? We were in the middle of nowhere. No one would ever find me.

I swallowed hard. "Never in my life did I think I'd die an undignified death." My voice trembled. "I know I’ve seen more than I should, but… please.

Stop the car.

Throw me somewhere my body can at least be identified if found."

Silence.

Then, he turned to me. Amused.

That same damn expression that had made me give myself to him last night… now sent pure terror through my veins.

"You’re not going to beg for your life?" His voice was smooth. Unbothered.

"If I beg, will you spare me?"

"Maybe."

I exhaled shakily. "You could have just shot me back at the bar."

"And you’d have ended up in the incinerator."

My breath hitched. What the hell?

I stared at him, horrified. This man wasn’t human.

My journalist instincts kicked in. "What do you even gain from all this?"

His lips twitched. "You want a story right now?"

"No." My voice cracked. More tears slipped down my cheeks. "I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my mother."

I tried again, desperate. "Please. I swear, I won’t even think about today. I won’t speak of it. I don’t even have a phone or anything—just let me go."

His hand reached for me.

I flinched.

He paused for a moment… then pulled me closer.

Against his chest.

His voice was low, calm, almost tired. "I’m as exhausted as you are, firecracker. No one’s going to hurt you. We’re just going home."

I wanted to fight him off.

To shove him away. To scream.

But my body was too heavy.

The car finally began to slow…

And before I could fight the exhaustion creeping in—

My eyes slipped shut.

***

My eyes fluttered open.

Dark.

My gaze darted around the room—wooden bed, black mattress, black sheets, white ceiling.

A sliver of light trickled in through the window. I bolted upright, rushed over, and pushed it open.

Outside stretched a vast, manicured estate, rolling green fields bleeding into a thick forest, so lush, so alive. The morning fog made everything eerily perfect, and for a fleeting second, I forgot.

Then it slammed back into me—

I was kidnapped.

And I probably belonged to a mafia boss now.

I looked down at myself. Underwear.

Not surprising.

I turned, and there he was.

The man. The mafia leader.

Seated in a chair, casually flipping through an actual newspaper, a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

The demon reads newspapers.

“Name?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“Adrian.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-six.”

I gasped. He looked younger than I expected. And that body—

My eyes betrayed me, dropping to his lean, shirtless torso. Abs like a damn sculpture, sitting there like sin itself.

“Where is this?” I asked, tearing my gaze away.

“Outside the city. My home.”

“Where you kill people too?”

The slight shift of his eyes over the paper told me I’d gone too far.

“I’m sorry,” I added quickly.

I stepped closer. His gaze followed me.

Heat.

Intensity.

His focus locked on my almost-naked body.

“So you couldn’t wait until morning to strip me?” I taunted. “You did it last night.”

“You passed out. Your clothes weren’t comfortable to sleep in.” His voice was smooth, his stare lingering on the swell of my breasts as I took another step.

Maybe he wants me.

Maybe I can use that.

I leaned in, offering him a full view.

His jaw tightened, his body unmoving, yet something in his eyes flickered.

He leaned back in his chair, effortlessly commanding control, and suddenly—

I wasn’t sure who was seducing who.

My breath hitched.

My fingers itched to touch him, and before I could stop myself, I reached out, grazing my fingertips over his hard chest. Slowly, I sank to my knees, my hands sliding over his thighs, feeling the heat through his linen trousers.

His gaze darkened.

My heart pounded.

Then—

A scream inside my head. Survival.

I pushed past the intoxicating warmth pooling low in my stomach.

"What are you going to do with me?" I whispered.

His lips curled.

"Eat you, if I had the time."

Fuck.

I leaned closer, shamelessly drawn in, but—

“Sienna,” he exhaled, voice thick with amusement. "I wish I could spend all day playing this game with you, but I have things to do."

Just like that, every bit of tension I built crashed.

Before I could react, he leaned forward, yanked me up, my body colliding against his.

A breath, a whisper—

Then, his mouth was on mine.

Hard. Deep. Possessive.

Heat erupted under my skin.

He pulled back, lips brushing against my ear.

"Don't try to negotiate with me like that again."

A slow smirk.

"Or I'll make sure you stay in bed all week… with sweet pain."

And then—

He was gone.