As it is I’m now a slave to her father and my dick, which very clearly doesn’t want to hate her as much as my brain does.
Add to that the way she’s looking at me… like she’d put up no sort of a fight, if I decided to snatch her away and lock her up somewhere to play with as much as I wanted.
And my dick wants to do exactly that.Right now.No waiting, fuck orders and hierarchies and even death threats.Fuck my own damn plans.
But of all the ways I could get myself killed, claiming her would be the fastest.It would probably get me tortured first and then killed.
She’s sitting on the white leather sofa like it’s a throne, the early morning sunlight streaming through the huge windows making a halo of sparkling softness around her, and yeah, my dick’s already decided she’s mine.Even though my brain knows full well she’ll never be.
She’s the beautiful vessel ruin has chosen to come for me in this time.The ruin that follows my family around doesn’t usually come in such pretty packages, at least not for me, but I still recognize it for what it is.What she is.Downfall and destruction and the end of dreams.Across the room is as close as I’ll ever stand to her.
Rafaelle snaps at me that we’re leaving, making me realize I didn’t hear a damn thing any of them said after Goldie breathed, “You’re alive,” in my direction.
That was another thing that got my dick twitching, because she seemed to genuinely care that I was still alive.Seemed genuinely happy that her father hadn’t murdered me for saving her from the Russian thugs and driving her home.Which means she believed he would do that.
Beautiful, treacherous and caring vessel of ruin.The worst kind.
“You never look at any of them that way,” Rafaelle hisses at me once the heavy door to the apartment is closed behind us and we’re alone in the sunless, marble-and-carpet-lined hallway, which will be my place of work for the next who knows how long.There isn’t even a window to look through in this hallway.
“In what way?”I ask, opting for that instead of going with, “Why don’t you make me?”which I’d prefer.
The second might’ve cut my servitude here very short—everything in Rafaelle’s rage contorted dark face tells me so.And then the beautiful golden rose on the other side of the door behind my back would have successfully completed her mission of ruin only a few short hours after she started it.Because I am a hundred percent sure Raf here still wants to kill me and is just waiting for an excuse.Red hot rage is practically bubbling out of him like he’s a barely contained volcano.
We’re staring at each other, the tension between us thickening to the hardness of steel.Lots of men have wanted to kill me for many reasons.But this guy that I’ve barely met, for some reason, wants to kill me worse than any of them.
“Are you in love with her or something?”I ask and I’m pretty sure he’s gonna pull his knife on me and poke a bunch of holes in my chest with it,
“No,” he says in such a strained voice it must hurt him to use it.“They deserve respect, and you will give it to them.Stand guard here now.None of them leaves the apartment.”
Then he stalks off, hands balled into such hard fists both his arms are shaking.
“For how long?”I call after him.
“Until I tell you to stop.”
And that right there is everything that’s wrong with my situation boiled down into one sentence.
Until they tell me to stop… that’s how long I’ll be stuck in this dark, cold hallway, my dick throbbing for a woman who will never be mine, my dreams of vengeance turning to dust.
So, in a lot of ways, I’d rather be dead.
Chapter11
GIANNA
It’sevening by the time I finally feel more like my normal self.My mom’s keeping her distance, dad’s unreachable and Chiara and Lidia aren’t speaking.I’ve already watched two comedies, both romantic, and am gearing up for a third.Apart from the short trip to the living room, I haven’t left my bed all day and while it’s very soft and cozy and generally exactly where I want to be, I’m restless.
This restlessness started before the beautiful stranger Matteo burst into my life and made me feel things no other guy ever has… it started when I turned twenty-one, actually… but it’s gotten so much worse now.
Every scene in the movies I’ve watched, I pictured me and Matteo in the lead roles.Every time my bare skin glides across the sheets of my bed, I picture it’s him moving my body to get me in the exact position he wants me in.I bet his weight on me in this bed would be glorious.I bet our first kiss would be too.I bet the world would just stop when we kissed, everything sparkling, birds singing, the sun warm and pleasant.I bet just holding hands with him would be a whole story to tell the grandkids about.
But it’s not just kisses and holding hands I want from him.
I want his weight pressing me down into the mattress.I want his strong hands on my body.I want his lips everywhere, not just on my lips.And I want him inside me…
Every time my thoughts stray in that direction my face heats up and I stop myself from thinking about it any further.
In just a few short years I went from detesting men because I could never marry the one I wanted, to fearing getting too close to any of them because they’d just end up dead because of my curse, and now to this blood-heating arousal.I can’t get his tattoo-covered hands out of my mind, or his sparkling grey-green eyes, so much like the countryside in spring that I want to just walk into them and never return, or his tallness, his raw strength he used to beat up all those guys last night just to keep me safe.
