Chapter 50 – His Game

Margot’s POV

A low, sleepy groan slipped from my lips before I even knew I was awake. I didn’t want to open my eyes. I was so undeniably content right now, that I longed for it to last…

Whatever dream I’d been having was gone, replaced by a warm, heavy comfort that wrapped around my body like a spell. My limbs didn’t ache the way they usually did. My back didn’t scream in protest from the hard floor. No, this was different.

Safe. Secure.

My cheek was pressed into something solid—hot and smooth. The slow, steady rise and fall beneath me lulled me into staying where I was, my fingers clutching instinctively at the warmth surrounding me.

God, I could stay like this forever.

I sighed softly, shifting my ass around slightly, chasing the heat. A low hum of contentment buzzed in my throat, muffled against bare skin.

“Now, now, my Bella…” a rough voice rasped out of nowhere, slicing through the silence like a dagger laced in threat and heat. “I can only hold myself back so much here… don’t fucking moan and move around on me like that.”

My eyes flew open.

I suddenly bolted upright so fast I nearly got whiplash.

Coban’s laugh was deep and low, filled with sleep and amusement, echoing from the bed behind me. “Easy, princess,” he murmured, not even opening his eyes.

My head spun as I looked down, only just now registering where I was—still in the damn bed after this morning. Still under the sheets. Still wrapped up in him.

What the hell?

“You—” I started, breathless, but I didn’t even get the words out before a large hand snaked around my middle and yanked me back down into the furnace of his body. I landed with a surprised oomph against his chest, the heavy thud of his heartbeat pounding against my spine.

His arm curled around me like a claim.

I froze, too stunned to even respond.

“Better sleep that time?” he asked casually, voice thick with lazy amusement as he buried his nose against the top of my head. “We just missed breakfast, by the way.”

His touch was warm. Too warm. He wasn’t usually like this. Touchy. Close. Soft. And yet here he was, acting like we’d done this a thousand times before, as if we weren’t just mortal enemies yesterday.

“What’s made you so… happy today?” I dared to ask him, my voice a thin, confused thread as I twisted slightly to look up at him next.

Coban looked down at me with that crooked grin, the kind that spelled danger better than any warning sign. He was far too smug, far too comfortable right now.

I stared at him like he’d grown a second head. A new day? More like an entire new personality!

“I wanted you to see how you could be treated in here…” he said, brushing his fingers absently along my hip, “if only you’d just learn quickly how to behave for me.”

My brain stumbled.

Behave for him? That’s exactly what I’d been scrambling to do for the past two whole days already!

“So, we just… slept in and missed breakfast?” I repeated dumbly, trying to wrap my head around this entire backwards morning.

He nodded once, his expression unbothered and somewhat content right now.

“Blame yourself,” he said. “You crashed out again the second that I brought you up here… longing to have a cuddle with me, were you, Bella?”

My face went up in flames at that.

He always knew how to ridicule me in mere seconds flat.

I buried my face in my hands with a groan, horrified that I’d let myself fall asleep like that. Worse—even enjoyed it.

What was wrong with me right now?!

“I can’t manage you,” I admitted, voice muffled behind my palms.

Coban only chuckled, entirely too pleased with himself. “Nobody can. That’s what makes me so dangerous, Bella.” He winked, and my stomach did a violent flip each and every time he murmured that damn nickname.

God help me… protect me from this criminal!

He was the human version of a warning label. Do not touch. Do not tempt. Highly flammable.

And yet here I was, all but curled up into his chest, wondering how I’d ever survive this project with my sanity intact.

Then his tone shifted—subtle, but I still caught it.

“Don’t get too caught up though,” he said suddenly, his grip loosening slightly. “I just figured that maybe Leo is right.”

I blinked up at him, brows pulling together now. “About what?”

Coban’s jaw flexed. Once. Twice. It was a habit I was starting to recognise—he did it when he was thinking hard, or when he was pissed off.

“Maybe I can just have a bit of fun with you,” he said eventually, like the words had finally settled into place for him. “Until you get me out of here at least.”

Fun.

That word stabbed clean through my chest.

He was serious, too.

He was planning on… using me. For fun. For sex? For whatever he wanted, up until the moment I made good on my end of the deal and set him free.

And then what? He tosses me aside? I become a distant memory?

Like trash to him?

The worst part was that I shouldn’t be surprised by it.

He wasn’t exactly hiding what he was from me, was he?

But something in me recoiled, aching at the implication. Maybe I’d been stupid enough to think this connection between us—whatever this was—might be more than just mutual survival and chemical chaos.

Maybe I was just as naive as everyone had warned me I’d be.

“So, Bella,” he drawled, voice low and wicked. “You just have to say the word, and I’ll give you the best fuck of your life.”

I stared at him in stunned silence.

He pushed himself upright, rolling me off with an effortless shift of his body. I hit the mattress like dead weight, my limbs tangled and left utterly speechless.

“I can tell how bad you want it anyhow… my virgin,” he added, voice full of mocking heat as he climbed out of bed, leaving me behind.

My heart stuttered.

Shame poured through me like lava.

I felt exposed, like he could see right through me—see all the confusion, all the heat, all the messy, needy want that I didn’t understand yet—didn’t want to understand.

I must look like an idiot to him. Trailing after him like a puppy. Crawling into bed with a man who, just yesterday, threatened my whole life.

What are you doing, Margot?! Get a grip of yourself here!

He’s not some misunderstood hero in a romance novel. He’s a convict. A killer. A game-player.

“Shower and dress,” he said over his shoulder, already stretching, muscles rippling under his skin. “I need ta go workout before it’s lunch. Don’t worry… I’ll make sure you eat since we missed breakfast.”

I didn’t reply.

I couldn’t.

I sat there in the bed, the sheets falling from my body like a metaphor I didn’t want to unpack. I kicked them off slowly, standing on shaky legs as I watched him disappear into the bathroom.

Coban Santorelli would be the end of me.

And I wasn’t sure if I was running from that… or sprinting straight toward it.