Chapter 3

The pain was instant and blinding. Dominick's grip on Alya's wrist was brutal. His fingers dug into her fragile bones, cutting off the blood circulation.

Alya gasped, a sharp intake of air that burned her throat. Her eyes snapped open. She stared up into his face. The dark eyes looking back at her were filled with pure, freezing violence.

She yanked her arm backward, trying to pull her hand free. It was useless. Trying to break his grip was like trying to pull her arm out of solid concrete.

Dominick didn't even flinch at her struggle. He suddenly twisted his body and pulled her arm hard to the side.

He used her own momentum against her. Alya's center of gravity vanished. She cried out in shock as her feet tangled together. She fell forward, her body crashing into the edge of the large leather sofa.

Before she could push herself up, Dominick moved. His large body followed her down, a massive shadow blocking out the light from the windows.

He shoved her flat onto her back against the leather cushions. He grabbed her other wrist with his free hand. In one fluid, violent motion, he pinned both of her arms above her head, pressing her wrists deep into the soft leather of the sofa back.

Alya panicked. Her chest heaved as she kicked her legs and twisted her torso. She fought wildly, but her struggles only caused her stolen skirt to ride up her thighs and her unbuttoned vest to slip off her shoulders.

Dominick loomed over her. His chest hovered inches from hers, but none of his body weight rested on her. He held her there entirely with the strength of his arms. He stared down at her face. There was zero lust in his expression. He was examining her the way a butcher examines a piece of meat.

He lowered his head. His cold breath brushed against the shell of her ear.

"Your methods are incredibly cheap," Dominick whispered. His voice was flat, devoid of any heat, making the insult cut deeper.

Alya froze. The terrifying aura radiating from his body paralyzed her vocal cords. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her entire body began to shake, fine tremors running through her limbs.

Dominick's gaze slowly moved up from her pale, terrified face. His eyes locked onto the top of her head. He stared at the antique Cartier hairpin holding her dark hair in place.

He released her left wrist. His hand moved up, his long fingers brushing against the cold gold of the pin.

Alya felt the shift in his attention. Panic spiked in her chest.

"Don't touch that," Alya choked out, her voice cracking. "That's my grandmother's. It's a family heirloom."

Dominick ignored her completely. His fingers closed around the jeweled end of the pin. He pulled it hard.

The pin slid out of her hair. Without the anchor, Alya's tight bun instantly collapsed. Her long, dark hair spilled out like a waterfall, spreading across the dark leather cushions around her face.

Dominick held the delicate gold pin up to the dim light. He stared at the small diamonds for exactly two seconds. Then, he let out a short, cold sound of amusement.

He smoothly slid the Cartier pin into the inside breast pocket of his expensive suit jacket. The movement was elegant, but it was an act of pure theft.

Alya's fear was momentarily swallowed by hot, blinding anger. She glared up at him, her eyes wide.

"You're a thief!" Alya yelled, struggling against his remaining grip on her right wrist. "Give it back to me right now!"

Dominick dropped his upper body lower. His face came so close to hers that their noses almost brushed. The scent of cedar and danger completely enveloped her.

"Listen to me very carefully," Dominick said, his voice dropping to a deadly, quiet rumble. "In this room, I am the rule."

Alya's breath hitched. Tears of frustration and pure terror burned the backs of her eyes. Her vision blurred. She finally realized the catastrophic mistake she had made. She hadn't seduced a playboy. She had walked into the cage of a monster.

Deep inside the pocket of her skirt, her cell phone began to vibrate. The sharp, mechanical buzzing sound cut through the suffocating silence of the room.

Both of them stopped moving.

Dominick raised one dark eyebrow. He looked down at her pocket, then back up to her face. He gave a tiny tilt of his head, a silent command for her to answer it.

He slowly released his crushing grip on her right wrist. He stood up straight, but he didn't step back. He stood right next to the sofa, his tall body completely blocking her path to the door.

Alya scrambled to sit up. She rubbed her red, throbbing wrist. Her fingers shook violently as she dug into her pocket and pulled out the phone.

The screen glowed brightly in the dim room. Kenzie's name flashed across the glass. Alya swiped the answer button, pressing the phone hard against her ear like a lifeline.

"Hello?" Alya whispered, her voice trembling.

Kenzie's voice exploded from the speaker. She was screaming in sheer panic. The volume was so loud that the sound bounced off the walls of the quiet lounge.

"Alya! Run! Get out of there right now!" Kenzie shrieked. "The information was wrong! Brenton isn't even in New York! The man in the 17th-floor suite is Dominick Duncan! The head of the family! He's a monster, Alya, run!"