Chapter 22 – Bella

Margot’s POV

“You can quit acting like a fucking baby now. I’m covered,” he muttered, continuing to scoff in amusement.

His voice was sharp, like it had been fuelled by years of razor-edged sarcasm and venom.

My eyes were still glued to the wall where I’d spun myself moments earlier, but at his words, I dared a glance over my shoulder.

Crap.

He was covered – technically, yes – but just barely.

The only thing protecting what little dignity remained for either of us were those tight, black boxer briefs that did a poor job at concealing anything, since I could very much still see a large outline of his privacy…

I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze to stay north of his navel, but my eyes betrayed me for a flash – darting lower before I caught myself.

Shit.

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I turned fully around, still facing him but keeping my chin lifted high enough to stay in safe territory. I didn’t need to add pervert to the long list of things he already probably thought I was.

He stood there like he owned the damn room – which I guessed, technically, he did. Leaning back against the chest of drawers, arms folded over his chest, every vein and muscle in his arms on full, unapologetic display.

He looked like a predator sizing up his prey, and it made every nerve in my body stand to attention.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” he asked, one brow raised as his eyes trailed over me lazily. “I won’t kill you if you take a seat, you know.”

That wasn’t as reassuring as he probably meant it to be.

I nodded gently. “Thanks…” I murmured, barely above a whisper at the offer, anyhow.

My legs moved on autopilot as I approached the lone black chair tucked against the opposite wall.

Sinking down onto it, it wasn’t comfortable, but I wasn’t about to complain. I stiffly shuffled around on the edge of the seat, knees together, hands clasped tightly in my lap like a scared little girl at Sunday mass.

He didn’t look away from me either, his gaze unforgiving and calculating.

“What’s your name?” He asks me next, catching me off guard.

His tone had shifted – it wasn’t as sharp as before, but still carried that weight. Like everything he said and did was a test.

“Margot,” I replied, voice small but steady.

He snorted.

Yes, snorted.

Actually laughed at me.

“That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard,” he claimed, shaking his head in what seemed to be disbelief.

My face twisted in quiet offense. I didn’t have much pride left, but even that stung.

“Southern, though?” he added next, nodding like he was confirming a theory. “I can tell from your voice… and the name just fucking confirmed it!” He laughed again at the end.

I nodded again, a little unsure of what to say.

“Last name?” He pushed further, his dark eyes finding mine once again.

“Belle,” I admitted, waiting for another laugh from him, but I was surprised that none came.

His head tilted at my statement, a flicker of something passing behind his dark eyes. “Margot Belle?” He tested, tutting afterwards as though he wasn’t fully satisfied.

He paused for a second, before he nodded slowly…

‘Bella,” He tried next.

My brows furrowed at that. “What?”

“That’s what I’m calling you now, Bella,” He shrugged, finalising the decision.

“But that’s not-”

“It’s Italian,” He smirked, and I hated the way it made my stomach flutter.

Damn him.

“B–But what does it mean?” I asked, curiosity escaping before I could rein it back in.

His smirk grew, more wolfish now. Dangerous. “Learn Italian and you’ll find out, Bella.”

A warning? A challenge? I didn’t know, and it unsettled me more than what I wanted to admit.

This was a game to him.

What was he calling me? It could be anything? I couldn’t string one Italian word together to save my life and so I had no hope of figuring it out either.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. “So… you’re Italian?” I attempted to change the topic from my new pet name.

He sighed like I was wasting his time. “Dad is. Mom’s from Cali.”

I nodded again, because apparently that was all I was capable of doing around him – panicking.

Then his eyes narrowed again, and I felt my stomach knot all over.

What now?!

“So you gonna tell me why you’re here?” he asked. “You must be fucking stupid. Or maybe you’ve got some wild kink for criminals? You wouldn’t be the first, longing for a dangerous fuck.”

My mouth opened in horror at his blunt words. “N–No! II mean, we just needed the money,” I stammered, praying the truth would be enough to calm whatever fire was flickering behind his eyes.

“We? You got a boyfriend outside waiting for you or something? Putting you up to this?” He demanded to know, as I held my hands up in defence.

“N–No, of course not! Me and my friend… we didn’t have anything left back home. We just wanted out,” I admitted quickly, hoping it was enough for him.

He fell quiet.

Watching.

Judging.

I held my breath.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Well, I need freedom,” he said, voice like steel. “And you’re my only fucking way to get it.”

My heart froze.

He stood up to his full, towering height. The playful smirk now gone.

Now, he looked like something out of a nightmare, all hard lines and grim certainty.

“So you’re going to help me,” he continued. “And if you don’t…”

His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

“Then you can probably figure out for yourself what I’ll do to you. I’ve got connections outside these walls. I won’t just end you, Bella. I’ll end your entire fucking family.”

The air left my lungs.

It was like he’d punched me without lifting a finger. My eyes welled with tears instantly, and I bit down hard on my tongue, trying not to let them spill.

“Crying already?” he scoffed. “Is it really that easy to break you?”

I wiped at my eyes quickly, furious with myself for letting him see it.

“I… I don’t have a family anyway,” I whispered.

I regretted the words the second they left my mouth.

His eyebrows pulled together sharply.

“You trying to get smart with me already, bitch?!” he snapped, his voice rising like thunder.

“No! No, I’m sorry!” I panicked, hands flying up instinctively like a shield. “I meant it. I–I don’t have a family. Dad’s an asshole and Moms gone.”

He stared at me, breathing heavy through his nose.

For a moment, something flickered across his face quickly… something I couldn’t quite name. It was gone as quickly as it came.

He turned away from me, muttering something under his breath that I didn’t catch. I didn’t know if it was mercy or just boredom, but he didn’t press the issue.

I sat in silence, my whole body trembling as I watched him stalk toward the bed, sitting down on the edge of it with a grunt. He looked down at the floor like he was thinking, his fingers tapping against his knee in a rhythmic, agitated beat.

Was this what my life was going to be now?

Living in fear of every word, every breath?

He looked back up suddenly, locking eyes with me again.

I flinched.

And he smirked.

“You’ll toughen up,” he said simply, like it was a fact. “With me, you will.”

Then he lay back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head.

Coban Santorelli had already taken charge of our cell.

And I was most definitely losing.