His Mafia Prince
Chapter 95: Not My Style

"Probably because I don’t plan on dying tomorrow."

"He inches near me but is cautious enough to keep a little distance between us. "And how are you planning to do that?"

"I’m not sure yet. I’ll figure it out."

He huffs. "Dalton won’t let you go."

"Of course he won’t." I lie down on the cot and support my head with my arm.

He moves closer again. "So, how do you plan to do it?"

"like I said, I don’t know yet," I repeat testily.

"Can you really figure out a way to get out of here?" he asks in a hushed voice.

I hesitate to respond. I stare at the ceiling, trying to decide if I should save Arlo with me. After the way he treated me before, part of me wants to leave him in this dungeon, just so he can get a taste of the treatment that he gave me. He deserves everything horrible coming his way. But if I fail to come up with a plan, then saving his ass is a moot point.

"Answer me." He demands. "Do you think that you can outsmart Dalton?"

I don’t answer again and he stares at me silently for some time. He moves closer to me and then clears his throat. With a snotty voice, he says, "Move your feet. I need some room to sit."

"Excuse me," I sit up and furrow my brows.

"I said move. This cot doesn’t belong to you alone. Make room for me. I want to sit." The way he stares down his nose at me makes him look like a little prince.

"You’ve got to be kidding me." I prop myself on my elbows and let out a condescending laugh.

He silently reaches down and grabs my feet. He then pushes them to the wall then brushes off the spot at which they were. He gingerly sits on the spot. The bed creaks and for a minute, I’m afraid that we are both going to fall on our asses. But somehow, the rusty cot holds.

"Bed hog," he rasps.

Part of me is tempted to wrap my legs around this little fucker’s neck and choke him to death, but I know better than to control my murderous rage and just watch him in silence.

Finally, he turns to look at me. He looks stuck up. However, I notice the massive fear in his pretty jade-green eyes. I fucking hate how my heart flutters when my gaze meets his. I resent the fact that I still feel attracted to him.

I arch a brow. "Seriously?"

"Yes, I...I can help you." He says softly. "You’re lucky it’s two of us down here. You wouldn’t be able to achieve anything by yourself."

"Still, the idea of leaving you in here isn’t far off. Maybe I should just leave you here to die."

"Be smart. This is the time to think with your brain, and not your emotions. You too know that two is better than one."

"We’re still outnumbered."

"I know that." He shifts his position so that his knees are facing me. His hip touches my leg. I know that he is aware of what he is doing. Or is he too distracted to notice? "But I’ll do whatever it is you want me to do. I have to get out of this mess so I can murder Dario myself. How dare he pull such a stunt on me?"

"Forgive me, but I have better things to worry about than your problems. It’s your fault that I’m even stuck in this cellar to begin with."

He turns his head away to avoid my gaze. "I’m not going to apologize if that’s what you want me to do. Just so you know, I’d do it again in a heartbeat."

"You’re stupid, Arlo. Is that any way to talk to someone whom you expect to help you?

He looks at me again and I notice how his eyes glimmer with resentment. "I don’t know how to lie very well. I won’t begin now by telling you that I regret what I did to you. I still blame you and Sasha for my father’s death. That hasn’t changed one bit."

I laugh because I can’t help it. He looks like an angry little kitten up against a rabid dog. It’s sickening how he expects me to just change my mind and be on his side after what he did to me. Entitled little bastard thinks he gets the upper hand against me despite being locked up with just me. If he has any hopes of freedom, I have to be the one to break him out, that’s if I manage to come up with a solid plan before Dalton and his goons make an appearance before the morning. "You can’t be serious. You’re unreal. Please shut up before I make you shut up."

I expect some mouthy snide remark from him, but I don’t get it. Instead, he leans closer to my face, so closely that his warm breath puffs on my lips. My dick grows hard and I’m embarrassed. I hate the sexual power that this little fucker has over me.

"Come on, Miles. You know you don’t want to leave me in here to die, now, do you?" the way he gazes at me is so hard to avoid. I’m instantly drawn to him, and I hate that he seems to know it and can read me like an open book. He just decides to do something stupid knowing he has the leeway to lure me back in. I hate that he has this much control over me. I hate that I hate the idea of hurting him. Had it been someone else, he’d already be dead with his neck snapped to the side. It baffles me how I still have this much restraint over Arlo.

He is one cocky bastard. He knows that I lust for him and he wants to use that to take advantage of me. Part of me is tempted to head butt him, but I’m reluctant to mess up that pretty face of his, so I move fast and shove him off the cot. He lands on his ass with a yelp.