Chapter 4

Jasmine

If I can’t change his mind, I might as well join him. I’m starting to play with fire, and in the end, I’m the only one who gets burned. He’s going to get what he wants from me anyway.

From now on, I’m not going to cry over men. I’m not going to allow Danya to take everything away from me anymore. I’m not going to be that weak, gullible, and submissive wolfless Jasmine.

I’ll be the Jasmine they’ve never seen before.

But I feel like an open book to him. I flinch at the word virgin.

How the hell does he even know that? This man is like a walking NSA that seems to know everything about me, but if I have to be strong, I should stop flinching.

I should not show him weakness, or maybe I should. For this whole charade to work, I should make him think I’m still that terrified, poor, brokenhearted woman who just got humiliated herself in front of the guests and the entire pack.

Swallowing hard, I look away as my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Before I can even try to cover myself, he already takes my hands. “Don’t do that. Don’t let them get into your head.” He lifts my chin with the back of his finger. “Look at me.”

I met his intense gaze, and my heart drums in my chest. “Yes, I am. So you don’t fu— fuck virgins.”

“Is that a question?” he asks calmly. His eyes darken. His pupils dilate.

“Do you fuck virgins?”

“Yes, but you’d be the first,” he replies, and I catch a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

A hot flush crawls up my neck and spreads over my face. “Great. Just great.”

“You don’t even know how beautiful you are, do you? I’ve met a lot of beautiful women, but you’re by far the standard.”

“Really? Are they covered? Or you are just blind because look at me.”

“I’m looking, Jasmine. I see you.”

“Apparently, not hard enough.” I snort.

“Don’t listen to the people who don’t genuinely care about you.” He lifts his hand, caressing my cheek with the back of his finger. How can a simple touch burn through me? Yet when Liam kissed me, it didn’t feel this way. It’s not even closed. “You just have to believe what you see in the mirror. I’m not gonna change you, but right now, you’re still a caterpillar, and you haven’t turned into a babochka.”

“What’s that?”

“A butterfly.”

“Why me? When you can—”

“She’s not beautiful inside and out. She just dresses to impress, while you, on the other hand, don’t dress the way she does, and you cover all the goods most men usually appreciate, but I’m not most men. I can see the goodness in people.”

While my face is still hot because of the dark intensity of his gaze that travels through my naked chest, nausea crawls through me again as I recall the images of how he easily inflicted pain on people without remorse and how he locked me up in that dark cage that smelled of death and torture.

The mere thought of death and destruction from the story I heard in such gruesome detail fills my chest with agony for a heartbreaking moment.

His quest for vengeance left trails of death, and he hurt many innocent people and ruined a lot of families. I don’t excuse it, but I understand it.

I don’t realize he grabs the spray until he murmurs, “Close your eyes.”

I obey. Despite the volatility of my situation and no guarantee of my freedom, there’s some softness and a little humanity left in him. Even his strong fingers are gentle, massaging my skull.

Whatever game my captor is playing, I have to play along long enough until I plan my escape.

Once my hair is clean, he guides the spray, rinsing out the shampoo, then he gets his bodywash again, squeezing directly on my chest.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I lather the soap, playing particularly attention to my breasts.

I don’t have big boobs, but I like what I have.

His blazing gaze burns me, and I start to imagine it’s him touching me with each stroke of his rough hands, intensifying the flames of arousal in my core.

My heart races too fast, and my body is burning with equal parts shame and desire. I mute the fear inside me for a moment. I might give in to the dark craving and the game he plays, but I should remind myself often that whatever it is, it would end in a horrible way.

“Stop.”

I choke, gasp, and freeze. I feel like a deer caught in the headlights. Now I realize why he stops me as I find my hand between my thighs, stroking my slick folds.

I’m more humiliated right now than Danya and Liam were to me yesterday. I can’t even look at him anymore.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I whisper breathlessly.

“Don’t play games with me. Clean yourself.” He offers the spray.

As soon as I take it from him, he bolts out of the foggy, steamy, luxurious shower room of his.

A few minutes later, he comes back with a towel, and I’m also done rinsing off the soap from my body.

“Thank you.” I wrap the towel securely around my chest.

“Be careful,” he says as he steps back. “I prepare the blower on the mirror. My shirt and my boxers are on my bed. Put them on. I’ll take a quick shower.”

I let go of a shuddering breath as I sit in front of the mirror, and he’s back in the shower room. My cheeks are still red with embarrassment as I start blowing my hair dry.

I do it quickly before he comes out. Then I pull the plug before I go to his massive, modern, luxurious master’s bedroom. Being in the mafia does pay a lot. His house alone is worth millions of dollars.

I pick up his boxers and put them on that almost cover my entire thighs. Just as I finish putting the black t-shirt on, there’s a knock on the door.

“It’s your dinner. Get in bed. Let me feed you.” He barks orders here and there, takes the towel from my hand, and passes by me to go to the door.

I open my mouth to say something, but I’m just wasting my time. So, I obey and sit in the middle of his king-size bed, which is covered in a dark blue silk duvet that probably costs more than my life, and he wants to feed on it.

Still in a towel, showing off his ripped body and eight-pack abs, he brings the tray to the bed. His biceps alone are almost the same size as my thighs. The way he easily threw me on his shoulder like I weighed nothing, he must take his workout seriously.

It’s also distracting to eat in front of a hot half-naked man, but he does as he said. He feeds me and watches with interest in every chew, every swallow, and every move I make.

It makes me squirm, but I’m also starving, and the food is delicious. The steak is juicy, melting in my mouth.

“I’m full.”

He looks down at the plate. “Do you want dessert?”

I shake my head. “Maybe later.”

He shoves the last slice of steak into his mouth and chews it appreciatively.

“Go brush your teeth. I put a new toothbrush for you, then get back to bed. I’ll be right back.”

I feel like a child following orders from him, but I do it anyway. Once I’m done brushing my teeth. I get back to bed and slip inside his duvet.

He comes back and goes to the bathroom.

I try to close my eyes and pretend I’m not in the most dangerous mafia alpha’s bedroom, but it doesn’t work.

The mattress shifts as he joins me in bed, making me stiffen. My heart pounds so hard against my ribcage.

“I can go back to that room.” I crack my eyes open, and he’s staring at me with pure intensity and interest.

“Why would you leave when I want you here with me?”