“Stop, Ciro. Please.” I twisted my hand, fighting to get free.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Roman hollered from behind us.
“Roman, make him let go of me,” I begged, emotion thick in my throat. Soon I’d be crying like other times.
“Nobody makes me do anything,” Ciro growled and tightened his grip around my wrist.
“You’re hurting me,” I whimpered, trying to hold it together, but I could tell my pain fell on deaf ears.
Roman darted in front of Ciro with his hands up.
He stopped, hard and seethed. “Move out of my way.”
“What in the hell are you doing?” Roman shook his head in disgust. “Can’t you see you’re hurting her?”
I continued struggling to get free from Ciro’s grasp. Why was he acting this way? He never gave a damn about me at parties. But then no one had ever danced with me before.
Guests and catering staff turned our way. Their stunned expressions sliced through me. In all my life, I had never felt so exposed and humiliated, with a front row seat as Ciro lost his composure.
What was stranger was it seemed I was the object of his undoing. Color me shocked.
“You’re causing a scene,” Roman told him.
“I don’t give a flying fuck if I’m being a dick in front of everyone! This is my goddamn party!”
“If?” Roman snapped. “No if about it. You are a dick!”
This was not how I expected the evening to unfold. Yes, I’d sensed Ciro and I were nearing the end of our relationship. I’d even told his sister, Rosa, that I didn’t think we’d make it at lunch the other day. She’d been so sweet and understanding, but she’d known her older brother would never commit to me the way I desired… Marriage and a family.
However, I hadn’t thought my house of cards would come crashing down tonight. Especially after the mind-blowing sex we’d had. Leave it to Ciro to control everything… as always.
Ciro leveled his gaze at Roman. “Brother, why do you sound surprised? Now, move out of my goddamn way so I can talk to Isla.”
I shook my head. “No. There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know who you are.”
“Yes, you do,” he hissed.
“How can you treat me like a possession? An object without feelings? You don’t really want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either.” Registering the words I’d spoken put a lump in my throat. How could I have been so foolish to believe he’d make all my dreams come true?
Ciro whirled around, making me flinch and striking terror in me.
“Did you say I don’t want you?” Not waiting for a reply, he swept me off my feet, tossing me over his shoulder. He took the stairs two at a time up to his bedroom.
The mortification I felt being carried like a disobedient child was indescribable. His outrageous, primitive behavior was the final straw for me.
I. Was. Done.
Never had I ever felt so unheard and disregarded.
Ciro Remotti might have been the love of my life, but he was the devil in an Italian suit. Everyone bowed before him. Worshipped the ground he walked on. Feared his wrath.
Until now, I’d believed he would never physically hurt me. Sadly, I’d prefer a beating, then him shattering my heart.
Why had I given into his relentless flirting? The early days and weeks with him had been like my wildest fantasies coming true. No man had ever chased after me like Ciro Remotti.
I’d held strong, too afraid to lose my intern job with the design firm, but he’d found a way into my heart, and I wasn’t the least bit sorry.
Because Ciro Remotti wore two masks.
