She got dressed in a green gown that looked incredible on her body, her red hair and tan giving the color an extra something. My thoughts went with Nicky. I wanted her here, even on that twisted, fucked up wedding. She never agreed to the first, and she’d have never agreed to this one, but I wished she could have been here. God, how much I missed her.
A man’s voice came from downstairs, not Tino’s, and he was speaking in fast Italian. Arancia went outside the room and said something in return.
“What’s going on? Who’s that?” I asked.
“One of the guards.” She flashed her teeth at me. “It’s time.”
Chapter 51
Lina
The guests were the bodyguards. My bride’s maid and the person ordained to marry us was Tino’s illegitimate half-sister. My groom, the man standing by the beach looking at me as if hypnotized, as if in bliss, was the father of the man I was supposed to marry, the man who kidnapped me from his own son because he was so obsessed with me he could never let me go.
I walked down the aisle all by myself to marry the killer of my father, my captor, my stalker.
Something flicked inside me the second I reached Tino and our eyes locked. As if I’d just realized what was happening here for the first time, and that realization made me want to scream.
I’d been here at Tino’s mercy and entirely isolated from the rest of the world until further notice. How much more time would I spend in captivity? A glorified sex slave?
My chest contracted like I was suffocating, like all the air at the beach wasn’t enough for me to breathe.
“Angel?” Arancia’s voice somehow penetrated the ringing in my ears. “Angel, stai bene?”
I finally managed to draw in some much-needed air, and I glanced at her. She was staring at me with a puzzled grimace, and Tino no longer had his awestruck gaze. His expression was dangerous, his dark blue eyes almost black like a fucking demon.
“Leave us,” he said sharply. “Angel and I need to be alone right now.”
Arancia blinked, taken aback by his tone. I’d never heard him speak like that before. Not to her, at least. I should be frightened, but at this moment, I didn’t care about whatever punishment he’d have for me. Rage had built up in every muscle in my body, a storm brewing underneath my soul about to explode.
Arancia and the bodyguards scampered away instantly, and a red mist descended on me, and the ringing in my ears grew louder as my emotions spiraled out of control.
My feet flew with the wind, my screaming and cursing echoing across the island. I didn’t know where I was going, and I was certain he’d catch me and hurt me, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. All the anger, terror, humiliation, frustration and agony I’d felt since I set foot here boiled to the surface, erupting in fierce rage.
I didn’t know how long I’d been running before steely arms wrapped around me from the back, imprisoning me in a familiar embrace. I kicked and screamed until I exhausted myself in his strong hold and my voice became hoarse. I crumbled against him on the sand in defeat, tears running down my face.
“Are you done?” he whispered in my ear, the sinister, intoxicating dark note in his tone that subdued me with far more strength than that of his body.
I shook my head in response, but I was done. Even if I wasn’t, he wouldn’t let me.
“You ruined our wedding,” he said.
And now it was time for my punishment. My skin tingled. My whole body responded to the pain that was to come with eagerness and anticipation. That fear and the mind-shattering bliss that inevitably accompanied it.
“I never wanted it,” I whimpered.
“Then you don’t fucking deserve it!” His hand fell heavily on the back of the dress and ripped at it. I cried out with every tear until the dress turned into scattered shreds flying with the wind, and I was a puddle of sobs in only my underwear on the sand.
He fisted my hair and twisted my body so I’d face him. Then he pushed me against the sand and ripped off my bra and panties. He took off his suit and boxers and tossed them away, towering over me stark naked. His eyes looked at me like he wanted to devour me, to tear out my soul and swallow it whole.
Helplessly, my gaze was drawn to the perfection his face and body and cock were, and I hated myself for craving him so much. It burned me up and ate my soul that I loved, fucking needed, the vicious cruelty of this predator. The pitch black darkness I’d learned to love.
I was in love with Tino Bellomo. I’d always been in love with him.
His grip tightened around my wrists as he lifted my arm above my head and yanked out the tampon. Then he thrust his erection into me, fucking me harder than ever, angrier, rougher. I bled around him, my gushes of arousal thicker than the blood. He pinched my nipples and bit them roughly, fucking me deeper with every scream of mine.
“Why, Angel?” he whispered as his erection swelled inside me.
I couldn’t say it, unwilling to take that last, irrevocable step. I couldn’t bare myself to the wolf like that. He’d taken far too much from me; I couldn’t let him have this, too. I couldn’t let him know the real reason behind my fury was that I was fucking in love with him.
