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“Cheer up, Russo. Liking your fiancée isn’t the worst thing in the world.” Maybe not in his world. But it was in mine.
“It’s not very sporting of you to threaten bodily harm while patching me up. Some might even say it’s hypocritical.”
Vivian’s brow wrinkled. “What?” “My kiss.” Pink crept over her cheeks. “Now you’re the one teasing me.” “I would never tease about such a serious matter,” I said solemnly. “One kiss for each of my injuries. That’s it. Would you deny a dying man his last wish?”
We were both right. But it didn’t mean I had to like it.
Vivian, Happy belated new year. I thought of you at midnight but didn’t have the guts to send you this until now. Hope you’re doing well. Love, Heath. P.S. I’m here if you ever change your mind.
Dante’s eyes were near-black now. “Obviously not the end, given this lovely bouquet he sent you.”
“Some fucker is sending you flowers, and you want to tell me it’s harmless?” He picked up the card again. “Thought of you at midnight. Hope you’re doing well. Love, Heath.”
“I won’t have my fiancée pining away after another man before, during, or after the wedding.”
It was always a little colder when he wasn’t home.
“You don’t touch her. You don’t talk to her. You don’t even fucking think about her. If you do, I’ll break every fucking bone in your body until your own mother won’t recognize you. Understand?”
“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.”
Shock, hope, fear, elation, uncertainty…they all mingled until they were indistinguishable from each other.
“You want to know the truth, Vivian? If I loved you as much as he claims to love you, nothing would’ve stopped me from keeping you.”
Our kiss in Bali had been passionate but impulsive. This? This was hard. Primal. Addicting.
“You shouldn’t have let him touch you, mia cara.”
“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.”
“Open your eyes,” Dante growled. “Look in the mirror when I’m fucking you.”
“You like this?” he taunted. “Watching me wreck your pussy while you make a mess all over my cock?”
“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” His voice turned harsh. “You”—thrust—”are”—thrust—”my”—thrust—”wife.”
“But you are mine. You asked if it was still just business…”
“Does this feel like business?” No, it didn’t. It felt like hope. It felt like desire. It felt like ruin and salvation all in one.
What we’d had wasn’t soft, emotional sex, at least not on the surface. But beneath the rough hands and filthy words, a storm of emotions had blown through and upended our entire relationship.
Look in the mirror when I’m fucking you. You like this? Watching me wreck your pussy while you make a mess all over my cock?
The butterflies took flight again, soaring so high the velvety tips of their wings brushed my heart.
“No more scowling as your default expression. Your face is close to freezing that way, and I’d rather not wake up to the Grinch for the rest of my life.” “I’m much better looking than the Grinch,” he grumbled. “And if people stopped pissing me off, I wouldn’t scowl so much.”
“This. Our engagement.” She gestured between us. “I know what you must think of my family, and you’re not entirely wrong. Money and status mean a lot to them. Me marrying a Russo is…well, it’s the ultimate achievement, in their eyes. But I’m not my family.”
I like you because of you, not because of your money. A fist squeezed my chest.
My head and heart waged civil war against each other and, for the first time in my life, my heart was winning.
Dating Dante was like rediscovering a part of myself I’d buried when I realized my future was not my own.
We’d had sex almost daily over the past month, but I’d never initiated it in semi-public before.
It wasn’t my first time giving Dante a blowjob, but I’d never fully get used to how big he was. How thick and long.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” Dante’s stubble scraped across my skin as his mouth trailed a line of fire down my neck.
“Ride my cock like a good girl.”
“Should I make you clean it up, hmm? Have you lick your own cum off the seat while I fuck you from behind?” It was dirty and depraved, but his words triggered something deep inside me.
“Spread your legs for me. That’s it.” Dante’s approval rumbled over me when I obeyed. “Let me see how wet that pretty little pussy is.”
“You don’t want people to hear how much you love being fucked like this, do you? On all fours in the backseat of a car, taking every inch of my cock like you’re fucking made for it.” He gave my clit another long, lazy stroke with his other hand. “It’s not very becoming of a society heiress.”
“You can’t see the stars in New York,” Dante said. “So I brought the stars to you.”
“Nice way to spin it. Are you sure it’s not because you have separation anxiety?” I teased. “I didn’t use to.” His eyes held mine like a lone flame flickering on a cold winter night. “But I’m beginning to think I might.”
“Se sapessi il potere che hai su di me,”
My head or my heart. One of them would win. I just didn’t know which one.
Breathe. Do not yell. Do not throw the bowl of tomatoes at his head.
“Were you going to leave without telling me?” Roughness edged my question. “I’m doing you a favor.” Vivian didn’t look at me, but her hands shook as she folded and packed her clothes. “I’m saving you from a hard conversation. I heard you, Dante. You don’t want me here. You never wanted me here. So I’m leaving.”
“What do you want me to say?” she demanded. “Do you want me to ask what my father had on you? To ask whether the past two months meant anything, or if you were just trying to make the most out of a shitty situation until you could get rid of me? Do you want me to tell you how devastating it is to find out your father is…is…” Her voice broke. She turned away, but not before I glimpsed the tear streaking down her cheek.
“Do you know how it feels to learn your fiancé was only with you because he was forced into it? To think we were actually getting closer when you secretly hated me? Not that I blame you.”
“If I were in your position, I would hate me too.”
“I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of this. You were never at fault. But I had to protect my family, and this is…” The words lodged like a knife in my throat before I forced them out. “This is just business.”
Vivian hadn’t packed all her things. Most of her clothes still hung in the closet. Her perfume bottles were on the dresser, a vase of her favorite flowers next to them. Yet the room had never felt emptier.
“Do I need to sharpen my knives and prepare contingency plans for a homicide charge?”
What the hell was I supposed to do now? I’d never been in love. Never planned to be in love. And now, I’d gone and fallen for the one woman I shouldn’t have like a damn idiot.
“Don’t let your pursuit of wrath ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Yeah, figuring things out with Vivian will be hard, but you’ve always been a fighter. So fucking fight.”
