She’s like a little lamb on her way to the slaughter. She’s trying so hard to be interested in the asshole behind the bar, but she can’t keep her eyes off me. Although she’s looked at me like this every time I’ve allowed myself to get this close, this is the first time she’s seeing me. See, over the years, I’ve become a master of disguise. You don’t know it’s me unless I want you to know, and up until now, I haven’t wanted Snow to see the real me. I’ve been careful to keep my face hidden though, because that’s something she would recognize.
Not that it matters. Today is the day she becomes mine. My pretty little Snowflake. I’ve been planning for today for what feels like a lifetime, but I had to wait until my idiot father and useless uncles were out of the picture. The Saint James family doesn’t know what a favor they did for me because I couldn’t have my family’s vile tendencies near my woman. The things I’ve seen at their hands turned even my stomach, and my soul is as black as hell itself. I get satisfaction out of tearing people apart limb by limb, but the shit they liked was too sick for me, and I would never put my precious Snowflake in that kind of danger.
The bartender pours her fourth cocktail. His gaze locked on her chest rather than what he’s doing. I don’t blame him. I’ve caught myself staring at them a time or two on these little missions to get to know her. These moments I allow myself have never been enough, but it’s how I know her favorite cocktail, her favorite food, the brand of tequila she likes when she’s had a particularly rough day. All the things a computer and a private investigator could never tell me, I know everything there is to know about my little pet to ease the transition into her new life.
I’m not so blind to think it won’t be difficult for her, because it will. I’m clipping her wings and caging her in, just like she thinks her family has always done. But there will be no escaping me or my home. She won’t be able to pull the same escape routines that have allowed me to follow her the way I have. At first, she’ll think she’s a prisoner, but she’ll come to see it’s for her own good and that everything I do, I do with her best interest in mind.
“I finish in ten. Do you want to get out of here?”
Snow nods, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. The image she portrays in public dropping into place. The mask is firmly fitted most of the time, but there are moments when the real Snow slips out, and I’m mesmerized by the woman no one else knows.
The bartender sends her a sly smile and turns to cross to the people who have just sat at the opposite end of the bar.
Snow lets out a breath and picks her glass up, swishing the pink liquid around a few times before bringing the rim to her lips.
I’ll never get sick of watching her mouth. It’s one of the first things that ever drew me in. The perfect little pout her lips form, the beauty that lights up her face when they tip into a smile, the image I’ve concocted in my mind of what they’ll look like wrapped around my cock. That’s the picture that has me wrapping my fist around my dick late at night.
My little Snowflake doesn’t realize she’s being led into a trap, one I carefully set for her. She doesn’t know that leaving with that bartender will be the last free decision she makes.
I check my watch and fidget in my seat. The longer we sit here, the higher chance her brothers are going to realize she’s gone and send someone to retrieve her. We’ve done this same routine so many times I’m surprised they haven’t been able to keep her under control, but she won’t be free for much longer.
The moment the bartender starts moving toward the opening at the other end of the bar, I’m out of my seat and heading for the door. Everything that’s about to happen needs to do so seamlessly, starting with me being in position. I give her one last glance over my shoulder as I push the door open and find a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
Time to come home, little Snowflake.
