That was enough to make me stare, but Sadie’s outfit took the cake. She’d traded in my undershirt for a new top and an intriguingly short skirt. White powder covered her clothes where I’d just had blood splattered on mine, and I wanted to lick off the dollop of pink icing smeared across her cheek. For someone who’d narrowly es caped an attack last night, she seemed to be making the best of this whole ordeal instead of cowering in the corner . That shouldn’ t make my chest tighten as much as it did. Antonio noticed my arrival first, and he dropped his spatula in surprise —making Sadie’s singing cut off. She glanced at him in concern before spotting me, and the grin that spread across her face was far too infectious. I hadn’t anticipated how good it would feel to be greeted by a smile like that. It got my legs working again, and I stopped across the island from her . “Hey, you’re back,” she called over the music, lowering the tube of icing as her grin doubled in size. “W e’ve been baking!” I raised a brow at the trays of cookies and cupcakes covering every inch of counter space. “I can see that.” Antonio reached under the counter , and the music quieted. “Are you hungry?” The look in Sadie’s eyes practically radiated hope. “I made cupcakes to thank you for all your help. You know, with Bear and everything.” I paused, sure I’d misheard her . ... She’d baked for me ? That damn warmth flared up in my chest again—foreign and wholly unwelcome—and I made a mental note to call my doctor. It must be a bad case of heartburn. The crazier part was it didn’t even cross my mind to say no. I wasn’t a fan of baked goods, but she’d clearly worked hard on these. It wouldn’ t kill me to eat one. “Sure.” I eyed the tray of cookies in front of me. Half already had icing, from detailed art to simple decorations. Not wanting anything excessive, I selected a smaller star that had squiggles of yellow icing and lifted it to my mouth. That was a mistake. “Dav, no!” Sadie cried just as I bit into it. Her eyes grew comically wide, making me freeze with half the cookie in my mouth. Maybe she wanted to warn me it was too hot to eat, but the temperature was fine. It was the flavor that gave me pause.
What kind of cookie tasted like feet ? I almost spat it out by reflex, but I didn’t want to hurt Sadie’s feelings after she’d spent hours baking in here. She was already staring at me in horror as I chewed and fought to muster a smile. “It’s... good,” I forced out, trying not to choke on the bite I now fully regretted taking. For a cookie, there was nothing sweet about it. Instead, I could swear it was made with old cheese. I held back a grimace with every ounce of my resolve and managed to swallow . Pure willpower stopped me from gagging. I cleared my throat. “V ery good.” The lie hurt, but how was I supposed to tell her it tasted awful? Sadie only gaped at me while pink icing continued to stream out of her bag onto the counter . Then, the biggest smile spread across her face before she doubled over in peals of laughter . I frowned. It’d been a long time since someone had laughed at my expense. Even Antonio watched on with stunned amusement. “Something funny, sweetheart?” I asked Sadie evenly, setting the rest of the cookie back on the tray and wiping the crumbs off my hands. It wasn’t worth trying to choke down the rest. The aftertaste alone made me want to chug a bottle of scotch. It took Sadie longer than I thought necessary to pull herself together— and she struggle d to catch her breath—but she eventually straightened with a flushed face and tears in her eyes. “You just lied to spare my feelings. That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she managed to get out, beaming at me. A crazed giggle spilled out as she wiped the tears. “And now you think I’m a terrible baker!” She broke into another cackling fit, and I looked between the cookie and her, not understanding. My frown only de epened. “Mind filling me in?” But she was too overcome with laughter to answer. When she finally straightened again, it was with pursed lips and a side-eye at the tray I’d taken the cookie from. I’d never felt more out of the loop. “I’m afraid that wasn’t a cookie, Dav,” she said delicately . Her lips twitched like she was fighting a smile, wide eyes sparkling with amusement. But there was sympathy there, too. “... It was a dog treat.”
Every muscle in my body locked, and the crumbs turned to ash in my mouth. A dog tr eat ? That didn’t make any sense. I couldn’ t fathom why anyone would bother to bake something for dogs. They’d eat trash at the bottom of a dumpster if they could reach it. She’d even taken the time to decorate it with icing, like some gourmet cookie you’d find in a fancy bakery . Dogs didn’ t care about decorations. What was wrong with the world? I cut a look at Antonio, but he only nodded gravely and cast a wary glance between me and Sadie. Then the craziest thing happened . My chef— the man who had been loyal to me for years, who’d moved here from Bologna for me, and who had known this girl for less than a day —took a small protective st ep toward Sadie’ s side of the counter . As if he were pr epared to st ep in if I attacked her . I was getting really tired of people assuming I would hurt Sadie. “Boss,” he began warily, bracing himself next to her. “It wasn’t her fault —” “You’re saying I ate something made for a dog?” I asked Sadie, managing to ke ep my voice level as I ignored Antonio. Her smile turned uncertain before slowly fading. But I didn’t want it to go away . “Oh, you’ll pay for that,” I promised her . Sadie tensed, reminding me of the nervous bunny I’d met at Bruno’s, and I felt a sudden ur ge to chase her . The thought must’ve shown on my face, because she tiptoed around the far side of the island, eyeing me warily . “Okay, now wait a second.” She held her hands palms out like she didn’t mean any harm. The bag of icing hung limply from one hand. “You can’t blame me. I made them for the shelter, and it’s not my fault you ate one.” I eased around the other side of the island, and she quickly mirrored my st eps. “Y es it is. You made it look so good, then it tasted like shit.” Sadie sucked in a breath, brows pinching in a frown. “It’s cheese and chickpeas, and you said you liked it!” ... Chickpeas?
I regretted not spitting it out. “I lied.” When she widened the gap between us, I changed direction to cut her off. Sadie switched direction, too, hugging the counter as she picked up her pace until she was jogging around the island. “There’ s nothing wrong with humans eating homemade dog treats! They’re perfectly safe. Nutritious, even. I would never feed Bear anything I wouldn’ t eat myself!” Her voice got squeakier with each word, breathing growing shallow . I easily matched her pace, and Antonio st epped back to let me pass. Sadie’s eyes bulged at my pursuit, and she skidded to a stop, facing me head-on. She lifted the bag of icing, aiming the nozzle at me like a weapon that’d ward me off—just like she’d done with Vince’s piece at Bruno’s. “Stop right there!” I stopped across from her , finding it hard not to laugh at the sight. “What do you think that’ll do against me?” I asked, cocking a brow at the absurdity of her plan. “Are you going to take me hostage with a bag of icing?” Sadie only raised the bag and wiggled it threateningly—as if that would heighten the intimidation factor. “Consider it a warning. But we can still work this out. How about a cupcake as a peace of fering?” Yeah, I wasn’t interested in cupcakes. There was something far more appetizing on my mind. Because in this moment—with Sadie covered in flour and poised to run, with icing smeared across her cheek—I wanted her even more than I had out on the patio. But even more than that, I was surprised to realize I was... having fun ? That was new . Not that I should be surprised. Wasn’t this why I’d wanted to ke ep Sadie around in the first place? She didn’t watch her words around me. She’d aimed a gun at my chest, taken me hostage, and run straight into a gang’s headquarters to save a dog with only a broom for a weapon and no regard for her personal well-being. She even laughed at me. It made me want to see what else she’d do. I took a slow st ep toward her, and Sadie audibly swallowed as she clutched the bag in a white-knuckled grip.
“Dav...” she whispered, a slight tremor entering her voice. “You’re scaring me a little.” But there was something in her eyes. A glint I recognized from the patio. She liked this. “Only a little?” I taunted softly as her hackles rose. My fingers flexed at my sides. “That won’ t do.” I sprang before she could respond, sprinting around the side of the island and earning a squeal as she took off in the opposite direction. It crossed my mind to hold back and make the chase last longer, but Sadie was unexpectedly quick. And I had no intention of letting her get away .
S a d i e Sadie’s Guide to Hostage-T aking Being T aken Hostage Forming a Partnership with Y our Hostage Embracing the Hostage Lifestyle, T ip #17: It’s natural to feel fear when your hostage is hunting you. Arousal is less common, but we don’ t kink shame in this guide. I was going to die today . My heart hammered against my rib cage like a spooked rabbit’s as I banked left around the kitchen island, and I had serious concern s about my blood pressure. All because my ex-hostage had taken it upon himself to chase me around the kitchen with the single-minded focus of exacting revenge for a perfectly honest mistake. I already knew what my obituary would say: Sadie Morris. Beloved friend of human s and furry companions alike. Future award-winning baker. A promising life cut short when she suffered a spontaneous heart attack after accidentally feeding a dog treat to Westport’ s resident mafia prince. No throat slitting r equired. And it wasn’ t even my fault he’d eaten the dang treat! The worst part of all this? Discovering something inside me actually liked being chased. It liked it a lot. When Davian had stalked around the island with the lethal grace of a predator , rec eptors in my brain I hadn’t even known were there lit up like a