My flushing in silence doesn’t sit well with him. “Ten seconds,” he warns. “Give me a real answer or I take my pants off. And I won’t leave until I’ve had you. Understand?”
I swallow my shame and try to sell him the excuse I just made up.
“It…it doesn’t always bleed much. I thought… maybe he wouldn’t notice.”
I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze—partly from shame, partly from fear that he’ll see through the lie I just told. A lie that he seems to believe. He unties my wrists. The second I’m free, I scramble up and clutch the blanket around me.
He walks over to his jacket, pulls out a cigarette, and lights it with a practiced flick. The scent of tobacco fills the room as he takes a deep drag, then rubs his chin thoughtfully. I remain curled in the corner of the bed, clutching the blanket around me, waiting for this confrontation to be over.
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that Tony Bruni is here, smoking a cigarette in my room while he’s bare-chested.
He smokes the cigarette down to the filter, then crushes it into the metal candleholder on my desk. Turning back, he comes to sit beside me on the bed, keeping a calculated distance, leaning against the headboard. His long legs stretch out across the purple sheets like he’s completely at ease.
I don’t dare look at him. My damp eyes stay fixed on the blanket, but still, his presence gets to me.
“You’re a fool if you think you can get away with this,” he says flatly. “Carlo would never buy that excuse. Do you understand?”
I still don’t look at him. “There’s nothing I can do except hope.”
“There’s no hope, you naive girl. You wouldn’t have survived that night. No blood means no explanation. Do you get it?”
The mere thought makes my skin crawl. A tear escapes and trails down my cheek. When his warm hand lands gently on my arm, I jerk away, but he pulls me back with surprising softness.
“Come here,” he murmurs softly.
The spell of his voice eases my taut muscles as he gently pulls me closer, resting my head against his chest. The heat of his body against my cheek only makes me tense up again, and I pull the blanket even higher. He grabs a strand of my hair, brings it to his nose, and inhales its scent.
“You were promised to me when your mother was pregnant with you. Did you know that?”
“No,” I breathe, my voice barely audible.
“You were. But your father went back on his word. He claimed the agreement with my father was that his daughter would marry the next capo.” His voice turns bitter. “That greedy bastard.”
He starts to caress my shoulder blade with the tips of his fingers. His touch is warm, but it sends a chill through me. “Before your engagement was announced, you didn’t even cross my mind. You didn’t exist for me. But after that... after Carlo took yet another thing that should’ve been mine, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. That’s why that night happened.”
He pauses for a brief second, his voice becoming firm again. “I can’t claim that being sober would’ve stopped me. I know that even sober, if I’d found you in that state, I would’ve taken you. I would’ve made you mine, just to grind Carlo’s pride into the dirt.”
My entire body snaps to high alert. I shiver as a cold mix of fear and dread crawls over my skin. His hand glides down my back, caressing me with a gentleness that drives me insane, while his voice stays deadly.
“Yeah, that’s the kind of man I am. And unfortunately for you, the only thing on my mind right now is finishing what I started.”
I jolt upright, trying to scramble away. Before I can move, he slams me back down onto the bed. His hands trap my wrists against the sheets as he leans over me, his voice a menacing growl,
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Lucia. Whether you want it or not, it’s happening.”
A sob rips from me.
“Why?” I choke through my tears. “Why do you want to make me even more miserable than I already am?”
He presses his forehead to mine, breath ragged, eyes wild with something dark. “Because I’ve thought about you so much, you’ve become an obsession. A goal I need to conquer. A summit I have to claim.”
He lifts his head slightly. “This isn’t about Carlo anymore. It’s about me. I need to have you completely, so I can finally get you out of my system.”
“What do you think I am? A prostitute?” I scream, voice cracking. “You talk about me like I’m nothing!”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” he murmurs, freshly shaven cheek brushing mine. “This has nothing to do with you or Carlo. It’s all about me.”
I turn my face away from him, protesting through tears. “But I don’t want this!”
