Unless that was the real reason for not wanting me to meet his father. I
couldn’ t think of a single reason you would introduce a mistress to your
family.
But there were plenty of reasons to hide one.
My stomach heaved in voluntar ily, and I placed a hand over it. This
couldn’ t be happening.
Mr. Reed’s brows rose. “Unless I’ve been misinformed? ... But my son
didn’t meet me at the door like he usually does, and I somehow doubt
baking gives the kind of glow you’re sporting.”
The innuendo made my cheeks uncomfortably hot. Sebastian Reed’s
manners rivaled those of the teenage thugs.
I schooled my face into what I hoped was an expressionless mask—but
felt more like a pained grimace—determined to ke ep my cool. The last
thing I needed was to lose it on Davian’ s father. Gladys and Ryan had
warned me what he was capable of, and even Davian said he was
dangerous.
“You have been misinformed, actually , because Davian’ s not getting
married,” I told him as calmly but firmly as possible.
He wasn’ t.
I refused to believe it.
Denial was a much more appealing option until I could hear the words
straight from Davian’ s mouth.
I needed to go find him. “Excuse me. I should go —”
“Not so fast.” Mr. Reed was beside me before I could blink, grabbing
my arm and surprising the crap out of me. I froze, gaping at where his
fingers dug into my skin. “There’s no need to be dramatic. I just want to
know more about the woman who made my boy’ s eyes wander .”
He was close—way too close—and my heart hammered against my rib
cage with enough force to hurt. I tried to yank my arm back, but his grip
didn’t budge.
“There’ s been a misunderstanding,” I forced through clenched teeth,
fighting to stay calm. But it was difficult when he was holding my freaking
arm . “Let’s go find Davian, and he’ll clear this up. He’ll tell you he isn’t
getting married.”
Or I’d look like an idiot for falling for an engaged man.
“We’re not going anywhere.” He let out a chuckle more menacing than
amused and st epped even closer—boxing me in against the counter. The
cinnamon in his aftershave overwhelmed my senses, making me scrunch
my nose. “Y ou’re going to tell me what you want from my son.”
I cringed away from him as much as his hold allowed.
Should I scr eam for help? W ill anyone hear me?
No, I needed to handle this myself. Ignoring his question, I scoured the
counter for anything to defend myself with, but the only thing within reach
was my piping bag. What could I even do with it—squirt icing into the
man’s one good eye? Like Davian had said, it wasn’ t much of a weapon.
If only I still had Vince’s gun.
I’d have to give politeness a chance instead. “Please let go of me.”
Mr. Reed very noticeably did not let go. If anything, he leaned in until
the unbearable heat of his breath crawled down my neck, making me
shudder .
“What are you after?” he pressed. “Money? Information? Did someone
send you here to seduce Davian?”
I swallowed what would’ve been a hysterical laugh. He was clearly a
very paranoid man, because I was the last person anyone would send on a
seduction mission.
“I’m not after anything,” I said, attempting to reason with him while
leaning further from his stale breath. My gaze dropped to the counter, and I
focused on breathing. “I already told you; Davian was just helping me get
one of the shelter ’s dogs back. That’s all.”
“Yes, the missing dog,” he said dryly. “Was that really the best sob story
you could think of?”
I winced. Of course he didn’ t believe what had happened to Bear .
I opened my mouth to plead with him again, when another voice cut
through the tension—a voice so low and terrifying, it made the little hairs
on my arms stick straight up.
“Let her go.”
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 Not
Freaking Out, T ip #21: Don’ t under estimate mafia staff. Chefs have
extensive knife training.
My head shot up, and I sagged in relief—Antonio stood on the other side of
Mr. Reed. He glared at the man holding my arm with a fury I never
would’ve expected from him. Cold and unforgiving, it hit me with a fresh
spike of fear, even though it wasn’t directed at me. He held none of his
earlier warmth, but I didn’ t care—I’d never been happier to see someone.
“Antonio!” I cried. “Thank goodness —”
The grip on my arm tightened enough to make me stifle a cry, and
Sebastian shifted to look over his shoulder . “Nice of you to join us, Tony.”
The chef’s hard expression didn’t waver. “If you’d like to ke ep your
hand attached to your body , I suggest you remove it from the boss’ s girl.”
The cold warning sent a chill skittering down my spine. I tried to pull
away again, but Mr . Reed’s grip was ironclad.
“Relax,” he drawled. “I’m just getting to know your little helper .”
“Let the girl go, Sebastian,” Antonio r epeated. His dec eptive calm—like
a predator who knew he’d cornered his prey—made my heart skip a beat
when it wasn’ t even tar geted at me. “Y ou know what I can do with a blade.”