He nodded once, blinking as he did, and I felt sure I was right.

“He branded me because I wouldn’t fuck him.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. His forehead furrowed, and a crease formed between his eyebrows as he processed my information and waited for me to continue.

I raised my own eyebrows. “You seem to enjoy eating my pussy. I guess he wanted to too. So does it make you more of a monster, since you took it without my permission, when he could have but chose not to?”

“He chose to brand you instead. To mark you permanently. He then sent you to me, knowing what I’d do to you, what you’d have to go through before being sold to some animal. I’d say his actions trump mine in the monster arena.”

“Fuck you.”

“Besides, I don’t recall you shoving me off. In fact, if memory serves, and it does, you were pushing your ass into my face for more.”

I turned away. He was right.

He got up, approached the bed, and stood over me, his body a warning in itself. Taking my chin, he forced me to face him.

“I could have taken more. I may yet.”

I wanted to say something, to challenge him, but every warning bell inside me went off, and I lowered my lashes instead. I had to be smart, and goading this man into hurting me was not smart.

“Tell me about your brother.”

He released me and sat back down in the chair.

I snapped my gaze to his. How did he know about Mateo? What did he know? Was this part of his “training?” Fucking with my head now, because hurting me physically, making me hate myself for my reactions to him, wasn’t enough?

“Is that why you’re doing this? Why your boss sent me to you?”

“I don’t work for Victor Scava,” he quickly clarified, his lip curling in disgust.

“Then I don’t understand. Why would he send me to you if you don’t work for him?”

“I’m an independent contractor. Now tell me about your brother, Gia. Tell me what Mateo did to get himself killed. To get you into the kind of trouble you’re in.”

I studied him, hearing the change in his tone, his words, his whole way of being toward me. I didn’t understand. “My brother was a good person who got involved with bad people, and when he tried to get out of it, they killed him.”

“His tongue was cut out. That means one thing in our world.”

My heart hurt at the mention. Would I ever think of Mateo and not remember that?

“Your world.”

“No. Our world.”

I looked down at my lap, exhaling. He was right. This was our world.

“How do you know what happened to Mateo?”