“Are we done with this dressing down?” Steam billows out from the top of Angelo’s head. “I need to go work on my tan.”
He moves faster than I expect, and in a millisecond, he has me leaning back in my chair with his fist collared around my throat.
Angelo is physically intimidating, but I refuse to back down. He has me trapped, but even the smallest of prey can fight back against a predator. It’s all about choosing your moment.
Unfortunately for me, this is not my moment.
“Behave, Chiara, or there will be consequences.” It’s less of a thinly veiled threat and more of a promise.
“You’re going to have to spell out what I can and can’t do,” I rasp when he finally loosens his grip on my throat. My neck throbs, along with my pussy. Angry Angelo is my kind of guy. Assholes seem to be my type, which is a concern.
He stares down at me. My bikini is still damp, and to my shame, my nipples are hard as bullets. I wonder if he can see them. Dear lord, I hope not. The last thing I want is for him to think he has some kind of power over me.
Or any more than he already has, at least.
“Stop antagonizing my staff and show some decorum when you’re with my brother.”
“Staff? They don’t speak to me, so I’m not sure how I’ve offended them. Unless the fact that I’m still breathing is an issue.”
“Kane works for me, which makes him my employee,” he hisses. “If you piss him off again, I will not stop him from punishing you.”
Kill me now because the thought of Kane’spunishmentjust turned me into a fucking puddle.
11
Chiara
Heels click across the hall floor as I finish pouring a glass of OJ from the refrigerator. The chef, Dominic, has left me a club sandwich for lunch, but it’s too early for that.
I like Dominic. He’s the only one of the few staff here who treats me like a person, not a priceless vase to be left alone in case it smashes.
The guy can cook like an angel, which is probably why I’ve gained three pounds in two weeks. But I’m not complaining. Most of it’s gone on my tits and ass.
The butler, conversely, some English dude, is a real snooty prick. He sticks his nose up when he sees me coming and scurries away as fast as his stumpy little legs can carry him. When I asked Luka why the guy hated me, he said it was because he was loyal to Angelo and believed I had bad intentions toward his boss.
I’d laughed at that.
I mean, the guy’s not wrong.
The kitchen door swings open, and a stunning brunette walks in. Serafina Di Rossi, the middle child. I’m no fashionista, buther outfit is gorgeous. I’d bet my last dollar she’s wearing head-to-toe couture.
She sees me hovering by the kitchen island and stops dead. For a few seconds, we stare at each other, then, to my surprise, she rushes over and pulls me into a tight hug.
“Oh,cara, I’m so sorry they tracked you down. I was rooting for you to disappear and live a happy life away from this fucked-up circus.”
When she finally releases me, I choke out, “You were?”
“Of course! An arranged marriage is barbaric in this day and age. We’re not camels to be bartered and sold off. Fucking misogynistic assholes.”
A laugh escapes. I’m completely blown away by her unexpected solidarity. At least I am until my naturally suspicious nature reminds me to be careful of whom I trust.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I haven’t even introduced myself! I’m Serafina. Angelo’s sister. But you can call me Fina. Everyone does, apart from Papa.” She holds out a hand, and I admire her pretty lilac nails while grimacing at my own.
“Hi. I guess there’s no point in introducing myself. You know exactly who I am,” I say with a dry chuckle. “Prisoner 60856, here on a life sentence with no chance of parole.”
“Sweetie.” Her eyes well up in sympathy, but I wave my hand dismissively and pick up my glass of juice.
“No need to feel sorry for me. It’s not your fault I’m stuck here.”
