THE LITTLE BRAT’S so fucking predictable.

I didn’t know how fast she was, though.

As soon as she escapes her useless brother, she heads for the hallway. I shove him out of the way and march past him, stepping into the hallway after her. She’s already ten feet ahead of me, running like a scared little bunny from a hungry wolf into the night.

Run, little girl, run.

I roll up my sleeves as I watch her choose where to go next. Her mother’s yelling behind me, something unintelligible in Italian. Her father’s cursing and her brother’s righting himself and muttering.

Italians. Always dramatic about fucking everything.

I march toward the door when I see a flourish of honey blonde hair exiting. She’s a pretty little thing, and she looks a lot more wholesome in person than I’d expect, being a Bianchi. Sun-kissed hair, high cheekbones, a curvy little body dressed impeccably in designer clothing.

Figures she’s a runner.

Unfortunately for her, so am I.

I give her a little bit of a lead. Let her think she can win, that she can outrun me. I’ll catch her, and when I do, I’ll punish her for this.

Win, win.

A wedding gift, tied up in a neat little bow.

I turn the corner of the house and call my driver. Vas answers on the first ring.

“You see her?”

“Coming this way?”

“Yeah.”

The second I got one look at the way Bianchi brought her to me, I knew she was the type they’ve been pushing around. I don’t fucking care about someone I don’t know, but I won’t let the Bianchis pull one over on me either. I knew if I left her even for a day, she’d be out of here.

I won’t go home empty-handed.

I scan the estate grounds and at first don’t see her. It’s dark out but thankfully there’s a full moon. In a stream of moonlight I see a flash of pale skin and gorgeous legs.

I’m after her. I’m faster than she is, but she knows the layout, which will give her an advantage in the dark.

We’ll play a little game of cat and mouse. I’ve always loved the thrill of the chase.

I bark out an order to Vas. “Cut her off at the exit.”

The car peels away, heads her off, and blocks the only exit from the driveway. She can leap the fence, which will take way too long, or pivot. She turns and runs toward a wooded area on the perimeter.

I pick up my pace. I’m not even winded, for once in my life grateful for Kolya’s ruthless training and insistence we keep ourselves in peak physical shape.

I’m almost grateful she decided to make things interesting. What’s the fun in having a meek little wife who already knows her place? It’s so much more rewarding to bring her to heel if she fights me first.

Branches snap under my feet as I chase her. She thinks she can hide here in the forest, but like any skittish prey on the run, she’s practically making a path for me. A thrill surges through me when she stays ahead of me. I’m a hunter enthralled by her cunning, and she’s my target. She can run, but there’s nowhere else to go.

I scan ahead of us and notice a barbed wire fence ahead. Our game of cat and mouse is coming to a close too soon.

She cries out when a branch snaps against her but quickly rights herself and takes a sharp turn left.

Then she’s gone. Evaporated into thin air, as if she found a portal to another dimension.

What the fuck?

I slow my pace.

I can’t help but remember what Aria told me before I left.

“There’s something that she’s hiding. I’m not sure what, but two plus two isn’t five, yet every time I try to do the math…that’s what I come up with. Something’s not right about Harper Bianchi. Just be careful.”

I laughed. “She’s a hundred pounds soaking wet. Why do you think I can’t take her?”

“No, no, it isn’t that…. It’s that she’s hiding something and it’s driving me crazy. Whatever it is has been covered up… It’s like… like there’s a filter in place, you know? At first glance it seems fine, but every once in a while, there’s a…shimmer that tells you things aren’t what they seem.”

So she isn’t a saint. That makes two of us. I don’t need a woman I’ll love. I need a woman to take my name and my ring, and my goddamn dick so she can have my babies.

She only knows this place better than I do, so it’ll take a little more time.

I slow my pace and sharpen my senses. Even though I’m determined to catch and punish her, I have to admire her pluck. I’m torn between frustration that she’s drawing this out and begrudging respect. Her evasion’s a gauntlet thrown into the ring. My need to capture and claim her feels rooted in the primal need to master.

I look around for a sign of her but see nothing.

Where is she? I flip on my phone’s flashlight and scan the wooded area. She hasn’t gone far. She’s right here.

I look for a large rock or tree, a pile of leaves. Somewhere for her to hide. She’s a clever little thing. She knew she couldn’t outrun me, so she decided to throw me off the chase.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I taunt. “You know it’s only a matter of when, not if, I find you.” I lower my voice, so she hears the threat. “The longer you waste my time, the worse it will be for you.”

A glimmer of moonlight falls on a glimmer of pale pink in the dense foliage to my right.

I pretend I don’t see it, that I’m heading in the other direction. Each second that passes heightens the tension. There she is, crouched behind a the trunk of a large tree. I draw a breath and lunge at her hidden form. Score. My fingers latch onto a mane of hair.

She screams and smacks at my hand. I barely feel it. I could reach for her arm or leg, but she could bite me or twist away. I tighten my grip on her hair instead.

“Ow! Let me go!” she screams as I haul her out in front of me. Victory pounds in my chest.

Now that I’ve got her, I won’t let her go.

I tug her hair back, baring her neck. Illuminated in the beam of my flashlight, her eyes are wide in terror, her hands flailing out in front of her. My dick throbs.

“You’re done now.” I’m not playing anymore. The need to punish her for running claws at my chest.

I consider tossing her over my shoulder or cradling her in my arms and quickly think of the easiest way to get her out of here.

“Come here.” If she moves away from me, it’ll hurt her. She reluctantly steps in front of me, and the world falls away. The only sound is our rapid breathing in the dense quiet of the forest.

“Please,” she whispers. I don’t know if she’s asking for mercy or freedom, but she’ll get neither.

“Please what? Let you go? Or consider easing up on your punishment for running? The answer to both of those questions is no.”

I lean in, relishing the sound of her rapid breathing. Even damp with perspiration, she smells like spring, a delicate, sweet, floral scent with a slightly exotic undertone. What is that?

She licks her lips and swallows but doesn’t look away. Her eyes, as warm as molten honey, fairly glower at me. She clamps her lips together.

“You’re clever, aren’t you?” Her eyes spark with intelligence and wit even though she’s furious with me. “I don’t know why you’re so angry. You’re the one who ran. Tell me.” I shake my head. “Did your family never tell you what your future would hold?”

I don’t know why I’m talking to her. I don’t know why I’m not tossing her over my shoulder or dragging her by the hair back home, or at the very least, punishing her, right here, for putting me to the test and making me chase her.

“Of course I knew they’d marry me off to some high-paying creep,” she seethes.

I quirk a corner of my lips. “You’ll learn to respect your husband, Princess.”

Fire sparks in her eyes. “You are not my husband yet, and I’m definitely no princess.” She swallows and I wish I could look more clearly into her eyes in the dark. I will, when she’s spread beneath me taking my cock. “I promise I’ll go with you, I just can’t go right now. I have…I have things I have to take care of.”

I snort. “I’m sure your socials will survive without a selfie refresh for a little while.”

That touches a nerve. Her nostrils flare. “Will your ego survive a few seconds of challenge?”

I could overpower her so easily it’s laughable. I could bully her or manhandle her, but that’s all too easy, too simple. Predictable.

I have other ways to show her who’s in charge.

When I reach my hand out to touch her, she flinches.

Taken aback, my hand freezes mid-air. She was ready for a backhand.

I’ve got no qualms about my palm across her ass if she deserves it, and I can already tell she fucking will. Hell, she might even learn to fucking like it. But only a pussy backhands a woman.

Christ, who did I murder in a past life to warrant literally getting into bed with the fucking Bianchis?

I want her to know she belongs to me, starting now.

I drag my thumb across her lips, smearing pink gloss. I watch her reaction when I part her lips and press my thumb inside her mouth.

I’m unprepared for the sensual feel of her lips wrapped around my finger. My cock aches.

“Something tells me you’re teachable,” I say thoughtfully. “I’ll train you to submit to me.”

The fluttering of her eyelashes and rapid breathing tell me she isn’t as unaffected by me as she likes to think she is. I remove my thumb and pat her cheek firmly. “You’re beautiful for a brat.”

It’s impossible to read microexpressions in the dark, and she’s obviously well-versed in schooling her reactions. But I don’t miss her tone of voice. “You’re acceptable for a villain.”

I touch my hand to my chest. “A villain. I’ve always liked villains so much more than heroes, don’t you? Anyone could be a hero. It takes class and balls to be a villain.” I reach for her hair again and give it another tug. “We’re leaving. We can pick up this little chat later.” I whisper into the curve of her ear. “Don’t try anything stupid, or you’ll find yourself bent over the hood of my car with my belt across your ass while I make an example of you. Is that how you want to leave here?”

Still holding her head up high, she doesn’t respond.

“Respect, Harper.”

“Respect’s earned,” she seethes.

“And sometimes, respect is demanded and taken. I intend to take what’s mine.”

My hand still entwined in her hair, I march her toward the edge of the trees. I imagine her family’s watching, hidden in the darkened interior of the house. Fucking pussies.

The air is cool and crisp, the only sounds our footsteps on crunchy leaves and the hum of the car that idles in the driveway, waiting for us.

“Not one toe out of line,” I warn, ready to whip her ass if she pulls a move now.

But she doesn’t. She grits her teeth and presses her lips in a thin line.

I open the car door. “Get in.” After a moment of hesitation, she does.

Her defiance is like a match to tinder. The primal need to master this woman claws at my insides, a raging beast that needs to dominate and control.

But I can be patient and bide my time.

I slide into the seat beside her, my full body pressed up against hers, a silent cue that she can’t get away from me if she tries.

I growl at Vas. “Get us the hell out of here. I’ll get my coat later.” I don’t want to step foot in there again, not now.

She turns away from me so I won’t see her swiping at her cheeks. There’s no way she’s crying because I’m taking her away from this home. No. There’s another reason.

“Where are you taking me?”

I clench my jaw. “Home.”

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