Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“But you what?” The icy tone sends a shiver down my spine. “You thought it smart to disobey me?”
Disobey.
It feels like an almost archaic word, like he’s the king of this castle and I’m one of his servants.
Maybe he is.
Maybe I am.
I swallow and try to gather up my courage. I’ll need it. “Yes. I did. You don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”
One of his brows quirks up.
Right thing to say? Or wrong thing to say?
“Who told you that?”
My mouth feels dry, my lips parched. “I did.”
His phone buzzes. He takes it out of his pocket and hits a button. “I’m busy.”
He listens for a minute, then nods. “Spread the word. No one call me unless it’s an emergency, and I mean like the motherfuckin’ zombie apocalypse.”
He silences his phone and slips it onto the sideboard next to the squat bottle of whiskey, his eyes on me the entire time.
“Take off that fuckin’ dress.”
I’ve made it this far without dying. I can go a little further.
Biting my lip, I slide it off my shoulder, but find I can’t reach the zipper. I try, but my arm’s too short. This is a two-person job. In the distance, the waves crash on the shore, but it’s the only sound I hear. His room must be soundproofed, or far enough away from everyone and everything that no noise can be heard.
That means no one will hear me, either.
I shiver.
“You can’t get the dress off, can you?” I thought his voice was deep before, but now it seems like he gargles with gravel, every word laced with a threat. I stifle a flinch.
“Marialena helped me put it on.”
He grabs me roughly and yanks me to him. I jump when he slides a knife out of his pocket and flicks it open. A gleaming silver blade glints in the moonlight. My pulse soars.
“Romeo…”
He reaches for me, pins me to his chest, and slices the thin fabric at my shoulder. The dress slouches down one side. “That’s sir to you.”
He holds me against him with chilling ease, one arm flexed over me while he makes ribbons of the dress with his knife.
Slash.
Slash.
Slash.
I gasp and blink with every slice of the blade, expecting the nick of the knife at any minute, but he never touches me. It’s so sharp, even the thickest straps of the dress disintegrate as the blade cleaves through them. The fabric, still warm from my body, pools at my feet like discarded lingerie.
“I don’t like defiance.”
“I think you do.”
The glint in his eyes smacks of danger. I see, for the first time, how he’s nearly risen to the status of Don. I’ve seen the way the men downstairs defer to him, how they grant him respect tinged with fear. I’ve seen the way he commands, with confidence and skill, how every servant does his bidding. He’s as comfortable in his role as leader as a duck is in water, a natural.
Defiance doesn’t go well with him.
“You don’t fear me yet, bella mia, do you?”
It isn’t true. I’m fucking terrified. My mouth’s so dry I can’t respond.
His lips pursed, he reaches for my hair and grasps it between his fingers. I gasp when he tugs my head back. “I asked you a question.”
“You scare me,” I whisper. “You definitely scare me.”
“Then tell me. If I scare you, why did you choose to disobey me?”
I don’t know. I try to shake my head, but moving too quickly brings sparking pain to my scalp, and something tells me we’ve only just begun.
“I… I don’t know,” I tell him truthfully.
Everything he’s said thus far seems almost like a taunt, a push and pull, a sort of dance with his dominance and my reluctant submission. But now when he speaks, I feel the sincerity of his words down to my toes.
“You belong to me, Vittoria DeSanto,” he says, the slightest edge of an accent coloring his words. “And if you belong to me, it is up to me to protect you. It is up to me to ensure your safety and wellbeing.” He drags me closer to him so I can see his perfectly straight white teeth, the downward slope of his lips. “Obedience isn’t optional. If you don’t do what I demand, I cannot protect you. If I have to even question your compliance, I can’t protect you. If I think even for a moment that you’re undermining me, you cannot wear my ring.” He tugs my head again, the pain unbearable. Tears prick my eyes. “Do you understand me?”
Maybe this wasn’t a joke. Maybe he’s deadly serious. He might get off on this, but it doesn’t detract from his sincerity.
I try to nod but can’t with my hair in his grip. “Yes,” I whisper. “I get it.”
“Do you, Vittoria?”
“I do.”
He brings his mouth to my ear, the deep rasp tickling me. “Go to the bed.” I hold my breath with his commands, the visual of what he’s asking me to do bringing a flush of heat to my cheeks. “Lie on your back. Feet flat on the mattress. Knees in the air. Lace your fingers behind your head and stay in that exact position.”