My mind begins to race, wondering what’s real. What the fuck am I getting myself into, when the omega I’m marrying can play polite word games so well? She told me one thing, but is acting like a princess unable to do any wrong.
Who is Rosalia Accetta really?
“May we go for a walk around the garden, Uncle? I need to stretch my legs.”
Even as she says this, she shifts in her seat, her hair sliding forward to hide the wince of pain. Something tells me this is just for me to see, and it makes me even more concerned.
“I’m not your keeper,” the man grumbles. “You have about another hour before this little meet up is over.”
Rosalia remains seated as he disappears, and I watch as she stands ever so slowly, as if testing the mettle of her muscles. It’s the way someone in pain responds, making sure their body won’t betray them and dump them on their ass.
“I don’t suggest sparring without stretching properly,” she says lightly.
“Hmm. Of course,piccola.”
I follow her down the walkway, my eyes clocking the video cameras as we walk. They’re fucking everywhere, following us as we cross into a large area of roses. The scent completely overtakes Rosalia’s and I find I miss it.
Dude, what the fuck?This is a means to an end and nothing more. I need to marry someone so my damn father doesn’t get the last laugh in his will. I’m the first to admit that arranged marriages are medieval, but I have no other choice.
It doesn’t matter that my actions are going to piss people off, I will not allow my pack to fall to ruin. I require money to keep us safe, and I’ll be damned if I lose everything over a doe eyed girl with too many secrets.
My eyes dart around the high walls of the rose bushes, finding there aren’t any video cameras hidden here. Rosalia’s hips roll as she takes small steps, her eyes closed as she breathes in the sweetly scented air. The hem of her dress flutters around her calves, the breeze playing with it but never exposing her.
She’s so at peace in nature. Between her dress and how pretty she is, she reminds me of a fanciful princess. That’s the thing, she’s not a person to me, not yet.
If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to hold her up on an impossible pedestal, a reminder that she’s a means to an end. I can’t get attached.
I’m more of a use and abuse type of person. It’s so much easier not to get caught up in other people’s drama.
My hand wraps around Rosalia’s throat almost against my will, pushing her against the pretty pink roses as my knife comes out to press against her perky breasts. I swear, they’re almost pushed up to her chin. There is no way that’s normal.
“What— Fuck.”
“No thank you, I’d much rather not,” she drawls. The cool steel of the barrel of her gun presses against my forehead, and instead of fear, I feel an overwhelming sense of attraction.
My cock swells beneath my pants, a reminder that a part of me enjoys fucked up sex games, even if it comes from a female omega I don’t understand.
“Do you always meet with men who are courting you with a gun underneath your dress?” I ask, smirking as I allow my knife to nick her chest. A bead of blood bubbles up, but doesn’t slide down her skin.
I keep eye contact with her as I rub my thumb along her throat. Her pulse doesn’t speed up, it simply thumps along at a normal pace. All it does is increase my curiosity for this dark haired princess.
Who the fuck is she?
“I always have a gun under my dress.” It feels like a lie as she raises her brow at me.
“Hmm. Are you going to pull the tri— Goddamn,piccola.I think the pretty little dove may have claws.”
Rosalia smirks without mirth, the safety off on her weapon as her finger caresses the trigger.
“There are no cameras in the rose bushes. Ask your questions and be quick about it. Papa will come looking if we dawdle. He always does.”
“Who hurt you?” I ask, not expecting those words to escape my lips.
“Everyone. It seems to be a running joke at this point. Even you seem intent on making me bleed.”
“I don’t enjoy being played as the fool. What don’t I know?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.
“Too much,” she shrugs. “At this point, even if you call off the wedding, I’ll just be sold to someone else or killed. I don’t really care either way.”
