Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
The finality in my words has him sitting back. His arms folded across his chest, and I know I've pissed him off, but I don't care. This is my family, and I'll run it the way I see fit. The way my father would have.
"Now, if anyone else has a problem, they're welcome to stay home on Saturday," I say, looking at each man. "And make sure the soldiers are ready for a fight."
I'm not sure what's coming.
But my gut tells me it's bad.
Chapter 14
Luna
The next morning when I walk into the kitchen, I find my fiancé at the coffee machine. I didn't see him last night, but I heard him come home. He didn't venture into my bedroom, and I was thankful for it. I needed the space.
"Good morning," I greet when I reach for a mug which is just a little too high for me, and it causes Enzo to grab it. He hands it to me, a gesture which is both sweet, and shocking at the same time. It's not like him to be nice to me. "Thank you."
He doesn't answer me. He doesn't even look my way. Instead, he takes his mug and walks off to the living room. Once he's settled on the sofa, I notice him pull out his phone and tap the screen. Moments later, two men walk in, one I recognize from the day I arrived, and the other is new.
"I need you both to stay here today. There's something I need to check on, and I can't take her with me." His order has them nodding silently.
"I'm standing right here." I step into the space with the three foreboding men. It reminds me of being around my father when he has his soldiers and Capos around. When I was little, their presence used to scare me. But over time, I learned they were just normal men who had lives. Their wives and girlfriends loved them. Some even had children.
It was only their choice of job that made them scary.
But to me, they had become a sense of safety.
"I can see you're standing right there," he finally acknowledges my presence. "I wasn't talking to you. I was telling my men what their job is today."
"And what is my job? Cleaning the house? Doing the laundry?" I grit my teeth in frustration at the man I'm meant to marry. The man I should be obeying, and respecting, but when he treats me like a child, I'll act like one.
"Out," he orders the two guys who are standing at attention, their rapt gazes penetrating right through me. They're probably shocked at how I talked to their boss. Once they leave, Enzo pushes to his full height and towers over me. "Do you like to show off your sass in front of my men?"
"I just don't like being treated like I'm invisible." My voice quivers when he takes a step toward me. There are inches between us, and for once, I want him to lose control. I ache for him to do something, to kiss me. The realization doesn't shock me. I've wanted him since the night at Club Desperation. His handsome looks, his domineering persona, and his confidence captured my attention first. But seeing the pain in his eyes, after the mere mention of his family, makes him seem almost human.
"You're certainly not invisible, not to my men," he informs me. His words drag me from my thoughts, and my brows furrow. "Not when you're dressed like that." His sneer at my clothing hits me right in the chest.
The shorts are something I would normally wear to the mall, they're not overtly sexy. My loose-fitting top is see-through, sure, but underneath I have a strap tank top.
"There is nothing wrong with my clothes, most woman in the world dress the same way I do. It's hot in the apartment, and I'm not going to wear my winter clothes if it's so warm."
Enzo's glare only seems to intensify when he closes the last inch between us and grips my hips in his big, strong hands. His fingers dig into my curves, forcing a whimper to escape my lips.
The corner of his mouth tips upward at the sound. "You're mine. My fiancée, so if other men, even my own fucking soldiers are looking at you as if you're theirs to fuck, then I have a problem with your outfit."
I won't let him dictate the way I live my life, certainly not what I choose to wear. "If you think I'm yours, then treat me the way I deserve to be treated," I throw back easily, my confidence a flickering flame in the storm that is Enzo de Rossi. For a long moment, we stand in silence, he doesn't release me, and I don't push him away. My head is tipped back, so I can look into those dark eyes. I don't know what I’m looking for, perhaps some form of affection. But all I find is flaming desire. "Then treat me like a woman, a partner."