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Vivian’s laugh evoked a strange sensation in my chest. Heartburn? Investigate later.
“You forget.” I pressed my fingers against her nape, forcing her to look up at me. “You’re my fiancée. Not Kai’s. Not anyone else’s. I don’t give a fuck how handsome they are or what type of accent they have. You’re mine, and no one…” I dipped my head, my lips brushing hers with each word. “Touches what’s mine.”
“I hate the idea of you touching anyone else, or anyone else touching you. I hate that other people can make you laugh in a way I can’t. I hate how I feel around you, like you’re the only person that can make me lose control when I. Don’t. Lose. Control.”
“Because you’re mine.” His teeth scored my neck. “You wear my ring. You’ve come on my face and hand. You live in my head all the fucking time, even if I don’t want you to...” His palm slid to my hip, where his fingers dug grooves into my skin. “And God, I want to punish you for driving me so damn crazy. Every. Single. Day.”
“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” His voice turned harsh. “You”—thrust—”are”—thrust—”my”—thrust—”wife.”
“You can’t see the stars in New York,” Dante said. “So I brought the stars to you.”
“It’s never too late for change.” Dante’s eyes softened further. “You’re fucking perfect the way you are, Vivian. If your parents can’t see that, then it’s their loss.”
“Se sapessi il potere che hai su di me,” I said, my voice ragged.
My head or my heart. One of them would win. I just didn’t know which one.
“Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.” Dante rubbed his thumb over my nape. “Per te aspetterei per sempre, amore mio.” “Spero non ci vorrà così tanto.“ I smiled at his shock. “I speak six languages, Dante. Italian is one of them.”
I used to think we wouldn’t be together if her father hadn’t forced us together. I was wrong. A part of me would always find my way to her. She was my North Star, the brightest jewel in my sky.
