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One, Dante was going to be my fiancé. Two, we might kill each other before we ever made it to the altar.
Whether I liked her or not, Vivian was my fiancée, and I was getting damn tired of hearing her name leave his mouth.
Not that Dante’s notorious ruthlessness mattered to my family. He could shoot someone during rush hour in midtown Manhattan and they’d say the person deserved it.
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.”
“How does he look at me?” Janis smiled. “Like he never wants to look away.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Or I’ll place every candlestick in this house at uneven intervals and make sure your foods touch every. Single. Meal. Greta will help me. She likes me more than you.” I took back what I said about her being endearing. She was fucking evil.
“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—”
“You can’t see the stars in New York,” Dante said. “So I brought the stars to you.”
“Per te aspetterei per sempre, amore mio.” “Spero non ci vorrà così tanto.
