“You killed them like it was nothing.” My scream bounced off the alley walls.
He gripped both my arms, slamming me up against a wall. “I protect what’s mine,” he snarled.
I cowered from those gray orbs that blazed with a sinister threat, yet the words playing on the tip of my tongue, slipped out, “You’re a freaking neurotic.”
One dark brow lifted as he leaned in, danger rolling off his broad shoulders. “I’m an obsessive,bella. Do you know what an obsessive is?” I didn’t think he required me to answer so I kept quiet, letting my tears speak of my pain. “If an obsessive can’t have the object of his desire, he’ll destroy it instead.”
“What does that mean?” I whispered.
“You’ll either willingly marry me or I’ll make a corpse out of you. Destroying your potential to be what you truly want. A nobody.”
I swallowed, debating whether he’d kill me or not. Yet he was right. I wanted none of this. I wanted to be a nobody who just lived a simple life. But my life had become way more complicated than I’d envisioned.
He inched closer, our lips less than a breath apart. I forgot to breathe, the tempest in his eyes holding me captive. It raged, furious and untamed, almost eager to escape and smother me in whatever darkness hid in the depths of his soul. “I’m an obsessive who both desires you and is threatened by you,bella.” The quiet words startled me.
“What?”
His eyes searched mine and despite the hardness to his jaw, those grays somehow softened into something I couldn’t decipher. Strangely, for the first time since he blew into my life like a deadly hurricane, he didn’t seem like the devil I’d labeled him. But rather a tired man who carried the burden of the world on his shoulders. Why would he be threatened by me?
As if he’d revealed too much, he jerked me away from him. I swiped both palms down my cheeks, attempting to dry tears that wouldn’t stop. Wiping my nose stuffy from tears with the back of my hand, I didn’t care about the childish sight I presented. I was tired. My whole body hurt, my face hurt, everything hurt, even my freaking chattering teeth made my jaw hurt. Still, I tried to stay strong, conscious of his gaze on me. When I finally glanced his way, there was no remorse in those eyes. Just that staid expression that radiated extreme power—the supremacy of a tyrant who knew his place in this hellhole I’d become trapped in, whether I liked it or not, accepted it or not, he ruled, he dictated, and either I listened or got swept into the dark recesses he’d established for me alone.
“Let’s go.” He began walking away, expecting me to follow and when I didn’t, he stopped and turned slightly. His voice hardened. “You have one second before I throw you over my shoulder.”
Exhausted to the point where my legs were weak and unsure how long they would keep me upright, I almost welcomed the notion of him carrying me. Biting my thumbnail, I neared him. He took the hand of the nail I was biting, laced his fingers with mine, and led me out of the alley. I held back my snort of surprise, with both the warm intensity of his touch and the act itself.
Anyone looking at us would assume we were a couple and I internally cringed. With his broad shoulders, expensive dark suit, perfectly tousled hair, and clean-shaven face, the man next to me was anything but Salvatoreil diavolo. Rather the epitome of ruthless power, absolute control, and breathtaking beauty. Next to him, I felt under-dressed and knew I’d never, in a million years, match his statue. Not that I wanted to be, but I knew I’d never be his equal. Even if he were to marry me, I’d never amount to anything other than the woman he’d forced into his bed. And judging by the women pausing in their stride to admire him, they’d be more than willing to swap places with me. Their gazes trailed down to our linked hands and I could’ve sworn I heard their death threats.
“Yeah, kill me if you want, he’s already set on doing that,” I muttered under my breath.
As we walked, he drew out his mobile and when he dialed, I attempted to extricate my hand from his, he tightened his grip without looking at me. “Rosana, the marriage will take place tomorrow morning.” He cut the call, his gaze shifting to me. I bit my tongue to hold back my retort knowing it would be wasted on him and turned away from his penetrating stare. “Is there anything you want?”
I looked at him.Duh, I said in my head, and out loud, I mumbled, “clothes would be nice.” Not hiding the sarcasm from my voice.
“That’s taken care of. Anything else?”
“Taken care of?” I frowned. “I thought I was allowed to go shopping for myself?”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
He stopped walking, jerking me to a halt and his expression looked like he was trying to rein in his impatience. “When are you going to fucking understand that you have a target on your back?”
“When you tell me why,” my words started high and drifted into a low whisper as his eyes darkened to the color of the storm clouds on the horizon behind him. “Can I have an ice cream, please?” I pointed to the ice-cream parlor. His expression zipped into one of incredulity as if I’d just asked for poison. Maybe he’d never eaten ice cream before. Given how cold he was, he’d probably freeze the dessert the second it hit his tongue. “You asked if there was anything else, I wanted,” I murmured. If I was to be an imprisoned wife, I might as well get used to it.
He seemed to contemplate my statement. “You can have ice cream at home,” he replied, immediately killing my ‘get used to it’ notion.
Home.That word sounded so personal, our relationship was anything but. “Probably not the flavor I want.” I was acting like a petulant child, I didn’t care.
“What flavor do you want?” he asked, surprising me. Was I really having a normal conversation with a man who’d just killed four men?
“Mint pistachio with chocolate sauce.”Huh?I frowned not understanding my craving for a flavor I hated. And chocolate sauce? I preferred vanilla ice cream with maple syrup. Had my head suddenly gone into the twilight zone with the rest of my body?
“Let’s go.” Salvatore gripped my hand and began walking again.
“I thought were we going to have ice cream.” I licked my lips, the craving growing strong with each step away from the parlor.
“You thought wrong,” his harsh reply sent an immediate zing of disappointment down my spine
