Saverin had waited a year for this safe, and now he watched the back of her neck instead.
Dark hairs had come loose from her braid and curled against her skin.
Saverin: Faster, locksmith. I don't have all night.
She didn't answer. Her fingers worked the dial slow and sure, like she heard something ticking inside the metal.
Click. The handle turned.
Inside sat his father's watch, his ring, and a stack of papers tied with string.
The watch had stopped at 11:40, the hour his father bled out on the dock.
Saverin reached past her for it, and she turned to let him by.
Her hair swung back from her face.
Everything in him went quiet.
He had a photograph of her taken from across a street, blurred at the edges. This was not blurred. This was her.
Saverin: You.
Her eyes went wide, and guilt crossed her face so fast he almost missed it.
He caught her jaw before she could drop her chin again.
Saverin: Zara Moreau. You owe me a wedding.
His grip was too hard, and he felt her jaw grind against her teeth.
Her lip split on the corner of a tooth, and blood welled up.
Saverin: A year I've been looking for you. A year of my father in the ground. You owe me every fucking day of it.
Ennio: Shit. That's her? The little runaway bitch from the contract?
Ennio: Boss, you want my advice, put her on her knees till she tells you where the money went.
Tullio laughed behind him, low and ugly.
Saverin turned his head, and Ennio's mouth shut like a door.
Saverin: Get out. Both of you.
Saverin: Tullio, if he opens his mouth at her again tonight, break his jaw.
The door clicked shut, and the room got smaller.
Saverin: You run from me again, and I'll chain you to a bed in this house until you forget your own name.
Saverin: Do you believe me?
Zara's back hit the safe, and the dial dug into her spine.
Zara: Yes.
She believed him. What scared her was that some part of her didn't want to run.
His hands were shaking, and that undid her more than the threat.
She grabbed his tie and pulled him in.
He kissed her back like he hated her for it.
One hand slammed the safe beside her head. The other found the tear in her jeans and closed on the bare skin of her thigh.
His palm was hot and rough, and her whole leg woke up under it.
Heat slid down to her pussy and stayed there, and she made a sound she'd be ashamed of later.
Saverin: What the fuck are you doing?
Saverin: Tell me to stop. Say it once and I'll stop.
Zara: I'm not going to beg you for anything.
His laugh was short and mean.
Saverin: No. You're going to marry me.
His hand slid out of the tear in her jeans, and the cold came back where it had been.
Saverin: You owe me a wedding, Zara. You'll pay it in this house, in front of my family.
Saverin: Or I'll drag your uncle out of whatever hole he's hiding in and put him in the ground next to my father.
Saverin: You're not leaving. Not until I know why you ran.
He opened the door and said one word to the men in the hall.
Saverin: Upstairs. Lock it.
Zara walked out with her chin up and her mouth still tasting like him.
Saverin stood with his palm flat on the closed door and listened to her steps fade.
He had her. Now he needed the truth, and he needed it before his hands stopped shaking.