“What do I want?” I echo, my eyes running over her and letting my face fill with dark intent. “I was promised a mafia princess to warm my bed. A bride. A wife.You.”
Understanding dawns in her eyes, followed immediately by panic.
“What the hell is going on in here?” The voice cuts through the room like a blade, cold and authoritative, and laced with fury.
I look up.
Into the eyes of the man who murdered my family.
5
Adora
My father’s voice cuts through the room like a whip, and my blood turns to ice. I twist in Vincenzo’s arms to see Dad standing in the doorway. His face is white with rage, and his eyes are locked on me, naked, covered in Pietro’s blood, and held in my enemy’s embrace.
Shame crashes over me like a tidal wave. I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
Dad’s seen me bruised before, beaten before, but never like this. Betraying the family. His eyes flare with murderous fury as he takes in every humiliating detail.
Vincenzo goes absolutely still. I feel every muscle in his body turn to steel, and I realize with a jolt that he and my father are seconds away from violence.
His hands slide down my body possessively. One arm around my waist, pulling me tighter against him.
Despite the shame, everywhere he touches burns. I can feel the hard planes of his body through his clothes and the solidwarmth of his chest, and my belly clenches in response. I’m acutely aware that I’m naked in Vincenzo’s arms. My breath hitches, and my pulse races for reasons that have nothing to do with fear. There’s an ache between my legs that I understand despite my inexperience with men. I shouldn’t be feeling this about a killer, but my body doesn’t care aboutshould.
He shifts against me, reaching between us for something.
A gun. He pulls a gun out from underneath his jacket.
My heart hammers against my ribs. He’s going to shoot my father and then me. Or my father is going to kill us both. Either way, I’m about to die.
But Vincenzo doesn’t aim the gun at anyone. He holds it in his hand down by his side, a casual threat.
“Do you want to die,” Vincenzo asks Dad, his voice calm and cold, “or do you want to give what’s been promised to me?”
His arm curls tighter around my waist, plastering my breasts against him.
“You want my daughter?” Dad’s voice is sharp with disbelief.
Everything’s moving so fast. Before I can process what’s happening, Vincenzo’s mouth descends on mine in a brutal, claiming kiss. Right in front of my father. He holds me captive while he devours my mouth like he owns me.
Heat floods through me despite my terror and shame, and I can’t help the small sound that escapes my throat.
When he pulls back, Vincenzo addresses my father, but I barely hear the words over the roaring in my ears. “I want her. If you don’t give her to me, I’m going to take her from you, and you’ll die a slow, painful death.”
Give me to him, like I’m property to be traded.
“What’s stopping me from putting a bullet through your head right now?” Dad snarls.
Vincenzo laughs. “What’s stopping you? I think you mean what’s stoppingme. Nothing at all, but we’re going to do thisright. You murdered my family, so you’re going to beg for my forgiveness by giving me your daughter. Then we’ll be even.”
My mind reels. He wants tomarryme? After everything, he still wants to go through with it.
He kisses me again, harder this time, and I feel the message he’s sending to my father through the bruising press of his lips. I’m shaking again, but not from cold. From confusion and fear and something else I can’t name. When Vincenzo lifts his head, he’s still looking at my father.
“She tastes sweet. A Vici could never hope for such a perfect, innocent bride under normal circumstances.”
Dad’s face is a mask of barely controlled rage, but underneath it, I see his mind working. Calculating. Trying to figure out Vincenzo’s angle.
