"Much like you," he continues. "A rare beauty requiring… special handling."
Asshole. I know his words aren’t complementary. No, he sees me as something wild to be tamed, like his garden.
"I'm hardly as delicate as a flower," I counter, keeping my tone light to avoid annoying him and yet unwilling to submit to his will.
His grip tightens fractionally. "No? I find that most beautiful things break quite easily when tested."
The threat isn't veiled at all.
I catch sight of Cristian in my peripheral vision, just enough to see the way his hands remain slightly open at his sides, ready to reach for his weapon.
"I'm a Dante," I remind Maksim, dropping all pretense of a subservient woman. "We don't break."
His laughter lacks warmth. "We'll see."
He steers me toward a stone bench partially hidden by a towering hedge, isolating us further from Cristian's watchful gaze.
My heart hammers as I lose sight of him, but I maintain my composure.
This is a power play, nothing more.
"Tell me," Maksim murmurs, his lips uncomfortably close to my ear, "are you truly as pure as your brother promised?"
My blood turns to ice. "I was raised to honor traditional values. My virtue, like my loyalty, remains intact."
For now. I chose Cristian to initiate me into sex because he was loyal and decent, which are the very reasons he’s resisting me. And damn him, it makes me want him more.
"Such a rare quality in a modern woman." Maksim's fingers trace up my arm, and I want to squirm. "I must commend your family on maintaining certain standards."
"My brothers are protective," I reply. "Family values are important to us."
"Family." He nods. "The foundation of everything we do, is it not?"
He speaks of family with the same enthusiasm one might discuss taxes.
I think of my brothers, stubborn, infuriating, but genuinely loving.
Even in Alessandro's worst moments, when his duty as Don overtakes his role as brother, there's still warmth beneath his calculations.
And Luca, the most terrifying of all of them, is a marshmallow when it comes to his new wife and son.
Thinking of Luca, I consider mentioning him as a reminder of who will come for Maksim if he hurts me.
But Maksim is attempting to be pleasant.
What’s the saying?
Don’t poke a sleeping bear?
Maksim continues his pleasant conversation, asking about my education, my hobbies, my favorite foods, all with that condescending smile.
As if he’s studied how to make small talk and is going through the moves.
He doesn’t really care about me.
"I must confess," Maksim says, his voice dropping to a whisper as if we’re sharing an intimate moment, "since our first introduction, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."
His gaze travels down my body, lingering in places that make my stomach clench.
