Hi Ladies,

I did plan on give you all another chapter this week, but life kinda messed up my plans. I will definitely try this week or next to give you a little extra. I'm very honored to have you here to read, and I feel like you deserve a treat. No promises, but I will try. thanks for reading, and being excited about this story. Can't wait to hear what you think of this new chapter.

Chapter 7

Bella-

Over the last two years, I found myself in many hairy situations. When a person chose to manipulate men in an effort to sustain a living, those endeavors tended to get complicated from time to time. Staring at a mob boss, however, was beyond my pay grade. I was totally a fish out of water, or a fake hooker out of her alley.

The way he lounged back against that chair with that all-knowing smirk on his lips, aggravated me to no end. I longed to cross the distance separating us, and smack him, and effectively wipe that smug expression off his face. The idea was so pleasing my fingers twitched against the blanket.

I was trapped, and there was nowhere to go. If I somehow managed to make it past the bastard, whose blood was seeping through his T-shirt, his brother was waiting on the other side of that door. I wasn't ready to surrender, however. I was a pro at thinking fast on my feet, and I wouldn't go down without one helluva fight.

When his wolfish gaze slid over my body, an odd sensation I'd never experienced traveled down my spine catching me by complete surprise. The way he commanded me to strip, well, I couldn't deny my initial reaction was to freeze. As usual the ice melted, leaving me searching for my next move, a zillion thoughts coming to mind before fleeing.

Surviving on the streets wasn't for the faint of heart, and rebuilding the armor he'd obliterated took the deepest inner strength I had ever sought before. Moments ago, I'd felt as though I was in a battle for my life, and now the obnoxious bull was requesting I fucking strip. Was he insane? I don't know why I bothered to even wonder, because no rational person could switch gears quite so fast. I took a deep breath, gathering the power I'd possessed in situations just like this one, my gaze sliding over his biceps noticing the way they rippled when he moved. There was no deny the strength he possessed, and if he chose, he could snap me in half.

His muscle twitched in response, he was very aware of my attention on his arms, and I promptly averted my eyes. I felt mechanical as I pushed up from the bed, holding my head high as I met his gaze. Intrigue was obvious in his expression, his eyebrow lifting as he changed positions on the chair. He sat forward bracing his elbows on his knees as if he were getting comfortable.

Perfect.

My whole persona was fake. I might appear cool and collected, but inside I was shaking like a damn leaf. With a great amount of effort, I pasted the same smile I used on over a hundred guys, my fingers lingering on the edge of my shirt.

His pupils dilated with every move I made, becoming narrower and narrower by the second. Nervously, I licked dry lips, giving him a peek of my belly, watching intently as his grayish eyes dipped lower, causing tingles to begin in my thighs. I cautiously stepped in the direction he threw my knife, even as I pulled the shirt up higher until my whole waist was exposed, my belly fluttering as his gaze roamed over the smooth skin there.

Swallowing hard, I slid a nervous glance to the side, spotting the weapon he'd so easily cast aside. Lucky for me the big bad mafia man was in the same direction as my trusted blad. To prevent suspicion, I swayed my hips keeping his attention on my body. Coyly, I blushed, maintaining a sexy demeanor as I approached him. My lashes dropped, and I stared at him through the veil. "What do you suppose I will have to do for six hundred bucks?"

"There isn't a lot left out at that price," he stated, the muscle near his temple pulsing. He sat back creating space between his thighs, his long fingers running along his bottom lip as he studied me. He pointed at the floor at his feet. "You can start on your knees."

My hands trembled violently, and I forced my arms to cooperate with my brain. Cursing my visual weakness, I pulled the shirt over my head and let it flutter to the floor. I inwardly convulsed, schooling my features to remain calm even though a tsunami was sweeping through me, and I went to stand before him. Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I leaned forward, bracing my weight on the chair, my hands resting a centimeter from his. The top of my head ran over the stubble lining his jaw, whispering, "I will start where I want."

He exhaled, his hot breath caressing my scalp, and another wave of nausea curdled my stomach. Without drawing suspicion, I glanced to his right spotting my knife lying near the wall.

All I had to do was remain calm. Deep breath. Stay steady. Keep his attention averted. Any minute I was going to lose my shit. I could feel the walls I kept in place shaking, threatening to crumble.

I backed up a step, meeting his gaze, and forcing a bashful smile. "I'm positive we can work something out." Boldly, I traced the line of his jaw with the tip of my finger. Placing more distance between us, I dragged my hand through his hair, batting my lashes like I'd done a thousand times.

I spied the heat in his eyes, the grey becoming a molten silver. No matter what happened in the next few seconds, the mafia lord was far from unaffected. With this thought in the forefront of my mind, I sashayed around him, pleased when his eyes didn't leave my hips. My tongue turned bitter, but I managed to feather my fingers down his neck until I stood behind him completely out of view.

I'd always been as quick on my feet as in my mind, and with the agility of a cougar, I sprang into action. Quickly, I retrieved my blade, placing it against his jugular, fisting his hair, I yanked his head back.

His smile was filled with a pleasure I didn't expect to find when I forced him to look at me. Refusing to fold under the brilliance of that grin, I glared at him. "If you ever touch me, or think you will touch me, I will kill you. Do you understand me?"

His lashes fluttered, his pupils pinpoints, his witty stare roaming my face. "I was starting to get disappointed."

"Huh?" His response was not what I was expecting, and the pride shining in his eyes took me off guard. "What the hell are you smiling for? I'm not kidding. I don't give a shit what happens to me, but I will put this knife through your neck."

My grip tightened in his hair, and the blade pressed deeper into the muscle in his skin when his fingers went lax. His hands lifted, waving around as he spoke. "When you took your shirt off, I thought I misjudged your character." He chuckled like his life wasn't in jeopardy, his raspy voice echoing in my ears. "I'm thrilled to see you haven't lost your backbone."

I wasn't expecting the admiration filling his eyes, and some of the tension eased from my limbs. It would be nothing for this man to overthrow me, I would be scum beneath his shoes if he chose, yet he sat there very calmly. That's when I noticed the sparks of humor igniting in his irises.

He was testing me. That whole strip business was bullshit. Hell, he could've shredded my clothes with minimal effort, and the realization soothed some of the intial panic I felt. Tugging on the strands of hair locked in my hand, I studied him intently. "Don't ever touch me again. If you want your money back, take it. If you feel as though I owe you, I will pay what I spent back." Clenching my jaw, I glared into his eyes. "If one of your fingers comes near me again, I will cut you, and I don't give a shit what happens to me after that."

He attempted to nod, yet my clutching fingers didn't loosen their grip. I felt his head jerk with the movement, and the corner of his mouth lifted. "I would be very displeased otherwise." His hands opened in a gesture of surrender. "Take that blade away from my neck. I won't tell you twice. The only reason you've made it this far is because I let you."

I didn't doubt his statement for a second. Satisfied he wouldn't try to put his hands on me, I pried my hands from his hair, and I pulled the knife away, making sure to maintain the control of the blade. I kept my eye on him, ready to strike if I needed to, stooping down to snag my shirt. I rounded him, pacing as far away as the room would allow, stopping only once I reached the window.

To my relief, Adam or whatever his name was, remained seated. He relaxed, his legs kicked out in front of him. His arms folded over his broad chest, drawing my attention back to the crimson splotch drying on his T-shirt. Cautiously, I sat the knife on the sill, and shook my shirt out before covering my skin from his greedy gaze. "Why are you playing games with me? Why haven't you just taken the bag? You had several opportunities on the bus. What's the point in this?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, his expression bland, yet I saw the respect imitating from his tired eyes. "Did you think you could steal a hundred grand without repercussions? That I would just take the money and salute your attempt to make me look like a fool?" He pulled his shirt off of the cut on his chest. "You had to pay …"

"So, you decided to humiliate me? None of what you did is a game." Memories blindsided me, and the shadows crept into the edges of my mind. I involuntarily shuddered, knowing he was still watching me. His gaze was so intense, like he could see everything that I was trying to hide. Something heated and fierce entered his eyes, almost like he gave a shit, like he was attempting to figure the unspoken out. That was the most disconcerting feeling I'd ever felt. I couldn't explain it but I didn't want this man, who'd battled me since entering this room to envision me as weak. And what John did made me feel as though I was the most spineless person to ever walk the earth. Shaking my uncle from my mind, I focused on the man before me. "There's a difference between being ruthless and targeting weak innocent people."

His throaty laugh echoed throughout the room, literally bouncing off the walls, and darkening my mood. "You are anything but weak, and innocent. I have taken down men, huge men, ten times your size that have turned into sniveling cowards when they face me." He shook his head and he slapped his knees, the sound startling me. Waving his hands, he indicated the space around him. "How the fuck did this all start?"

Did he really want to carry on a conversation with me? It was almost laughable. Why the hell should he care how I came to be where I am. Being as vague as I could, I eased closer to the bed, and sat on the edge of the mattress. The springs squeaked beneath my weight, but finally I was beginning to relax. "Life. Life is a motherfucker and you either adjust to it, or fade away. I refuse to fade away."

"Let's be more precise," he leaned forward, his gaze never wavering from me. "I know you're not a hooker. I watched on a surveillance cam while you drugged my guy, and led him out to his car. How exactly does something like that happen?"

"How does anything happen? Circumstances beyond our control. Things that can't be changed." In all the time I'd lived on the streets, I'd never trusted anyone enough to tell them how I ended up there. This man, this stranger, this mafia boss, was no different than someone passing me on Michigan Avenue. "I'm not going to divulge my troubles to some guy I've never seen before."

He stood abruptly, taking me off guard, and automatically, my hold tightened on the wooden handle of my knife. When he headed my direction, I scooted all the way back until the backboard stopped my progress. "Let me see your arms."

I was baffled. Of all the demands he could've made, that's one I hadn't anticipated. Confused, I instinctively went rigid, my arms stiffening. "Why?"

When he merely crossed his arms over his chest in balant display of stubbornness, acting as though he would wait all night if he had to, I finally held my arms out. At this point, I'd suffered his touch more than I desired to.

He bent close, intently examining the creases of my arms. Angered by the assumptions he was making, I glared at him. "Just because I've made my way through the streets doesn't mean I'm a junky."

He pointed to my feet, returning my gaze, and refused to back down. "Spread your toes."

"I steal because I need to eat, not to feed a drug habit." I huffed when his hand snaked out, and he grabbed my foot. I aimed the knife in his direction. "What did I say about touching me?"

He ignored me, pulling my toes apart one at a time to look them over. He didn't relinquish his hold until he was satisfied with his examination. Finally, he dropped my foot back on the bed, and protectively I pulled my legs up to my chest. "I told you I wasn't a junky."

He ran his hand through his hair as he stared down at me. His height added to the power he exuded with every breath he took, his flashing eyes boring into me, searching out any type of deception. I traced and memorized the lines of his face, drawn repeatedly back to his gaze until I couldn't look away. "Any other kinda drug? Pills, Coke, Crack."

I scoffed with a shake of my head. In order to be doing pricy drugs like Coke, a person had to have money, and I barely wound up with fifty bucks to eat on every week. "Do I look like I can afford to do Coke?"

He didn't reply, simply turning his back and crossing the room in a few long strides. Apprehension made my whole body go taut. As strange as it sounded, I didn't fear he would physically hurt me. When his fingers curled around the doorknob and opened it, I scrambled into the furthest corner, pointing the knife at the newest arrival.

"Sounds like you had quite a scuffle, Edward. Did she give you a run for your money?" Shadows hid his face when he first entered the room, but when he stepped into the light giving me a full view of his face, I felt like a rat leaping up the wall, desperately trying to escape. The wall of muscle came to stand at the foot of the bed, merely five feet away from me. I was truly, effectively trapped. This guy glowering at me now could snap me like a twig.

Then recognition hit hard. He looked so familiar. Where had I seen his face? The ID. Fuck. I replayed the scene through my mind as he climbed from his massive truck and slipped into the back door of Crème Center.

His bulky arms folded across his broad chest, his strength emphasized by the material of his shirt stretching over muscle. He tipped his head to the side as he studied me, his blue eyes shards of navy glass. "So you're my sister, huh?"

I literally quaked under his scrutiny. I could barely defend myself against the wolf, and I suspected he'd allowed me to get the upper hand. This bear glaring at me now, however, didn't appear merciful. Even though I felt like curling up in the fetal position to protect myself, I forced my chin up, boldly meeting his gaze. "I found the wallet awhile ago. I don't have my own ID so I used your identification when I needed one."

The wolf spoke, drawing my attention back to him. "Why don't you have your own identification?"

I was surrounded. I had an immovable wall behind me, and two vicious animals glaring at me. With little choice, I answered honestly without giving too much. "I've been on the streets for a long time. I didn't have many options. Sorta like seize the day type of thing, and I ran with a golden opportunity. When I showed that ID, there weren't many questions asked."

The bear drew my attention back to him. "How old are you?"

My throat felt like sandpaper. After the tussle and being forced into an interrogation, my throat was the Sierra Desert. Licking my lips trying to accumulate moisture, I replied, "Eighteen. I've been on the street for the last two years. Alice and I met about six months ago, and we became roommates."

The mention of Alice had my worry for her escalating, and I looked back to the notorious leader. "Tell me she is okay. She didn't know I took that money, and when she realized it, she freaked. We both panicked."

His careless chuckle made me inwardly fume. Nothing about scared women was remotely funny to me. When my lips parted with the intent of giving him a piece of my mind, abruptly cut in. "That's apparent." He fell silent for a long moment, and something in his gaze shifted. "She's fine. We left her as soon as we learned your location."

I slumped in relief. If they chose to kill me, I would die a happy woman at that moment. Suddenly, I was so exhausted. Every single day I woke up it was a fight from the time I opened my eyes until I fell asleep. Yet half the time I was terrorized by nightmares, so sleep was not a good escape either. Blinking rapidly to keep my eyes open, I croaked, "Can I have a drink of water?"

The brute ignored me, looking over at his brother, and I was all but forgotten. His expressive hands were on the move as he explained the situation to the Mack truck. "She owes me six hundred with interest. I'm sure there is some type of work she can do to repay the money."

With their attention diverted, I slipped across the bed, dropping to the floor several feet away from them. Edward's eyes flashed in my direction, and he pointed to me. "Don't make me chase you again. This time if I catch you, you will regret it."

"I'm going to the bathroom. Is that acceptable?" I kept the knife close, making sure they both were fully aware of the weapon. "I asked for a drink of water, and y'all ignored me."

The sound of a cell rang through the quiet room, and Edward rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "Does the man ever take a break? It's five in the damn morning. Who the fuck wakes up this early with the intention of driving me crazy?"

Curiously, I watched as he jerked the phone from his pocket and hit the ignore button. This time when he looked at me, he appeared in deep consideration. He flicked his fingers toward the bathroom, saying, "Hurry up and do your business. I might have a proposition for you."

I flipped the bathroom light on, and hurriedly slipped inside, shutting and locking the door behind me. The second I was alone, I collapsed against the sink, staring at my reflection. What the fuck was I supposed to do now? My mind raced for a solution to my dilemma but I came up empty handed. If there had been a window in the bathroom, I wouldn't have hesitated to slip out it, but alas, there wasn't.

Anxiety coupled with fear caused tears to well up, and angrily, I wiped them away. I hadn't cried over my situation in so long, I couldn't remember the last time I had. When another droplet followed the first, I scrubbed my eyes until they were nearly beet red.

Proposition?

What the hell was he talking about? What kind of proposition?

Let me know what you all think:) Hope you enjoyed the update