Say I Do (Vitale Brothers, #3)

by Brea Alepoú

Fuck. I’m the goddamn replacement bride.

He was all brooding anger and danger. I just knew he fucked like he planned to break his partner in half.

The muzzle and metal bit were in place. It seemed like my father really wasn’t taking any chances. Really, on my unwanted wedding day? They couldn’t remove one of these things?

A man like Benito couldn’t love, and I had no plans to ever love anyone. That shit was for suckers and dreamers. My dreams had died a long time ago.

I would make his life a living hell, and I was letting him know it. Nothing in this fucking world would make me submit to a man like Benito Vitale.

The cold metal of Benito’s gun pressed to my temple didn’t combat the rage that filled my chest. How in the fuck did I get here? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. In the end, I’d survive like I always did by killing everyone else around me. “Say I do,” Benito said.

He glared at me the whole time like a rabid animal that needed to be put down. In anyone else’s head, those startling gray eyes would have been intriguing.

I glared. “I don’t want to fuck him.” “Now,” Enzo muttered. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Benito’s brows dipped as he glared at me. My cock twitched. If I wasn’t careful, I would end up always pissing him off just to get turned on.

My stomach twisted, and need, the damn devil of the world, slithered down my spine and wrapped around my cock. I cannot be into my husband.

I would either drive my knife into his neck repeatedly or strip out of my clothes and fall prey to the devil.

Harlow was a brat with a capital B. Annoying, irritating, useless. Looks aside, Harlow was a weight around my ankles that threatened to drag me down to the depths below. Yet I couldn’t get rid of him.

“Fuck Benito Vitale,” I said with every ounce of my being.

I sucked in a breath and nearly dropped all his clothes. His cologne filled the air. It had been distracting before, but up close, I had the debauched idea to jerk off over his clothes.

I was no longer a Hayashi; I was a fucking Vitale.

I could see my destruction at Benito’s hands, and if this morning was a taste of it, I might be itching for another sample.

“I’m your husband. Do you need me to spell it out for you? I am now Harlow Vitale. H. U. S. B. A. N. D. Till I get the chance to kill you.”

It was pure insanity how we went from blood lust to unfiltered desire. Just as quickly as it flipped, it could flip right back. Benito and I could be trading blows in the blink of an eye.

“Che cazzo è questo? Ecco, gli spezzo il collo.” If I wasn’t certain he was threatening my life or calling me a bitch, I’d find his deep voice, fluently speaking Italian hot, maybe even irresistible.

Benito burst through the door, a towel around his waist and one of the ten-inch blue and purple tentacle dildos in his hand. I smirked. Welcome to the marriage from hell.

Kill me! He’s a fucking psychopath who leaves a trail of dildos wherever he goes!

My hand gripped his cheek to keep his head steady. I leaned in fast, our lips crashed together, and heat erupted in the pit of my stomach. Harlow tried to pull away at first, but his will to resist melted as quickly as mine. He kissed me back.

We tumbled, and Benito’s back hit the door. A bead of blood kissed the sharp end of my blade. Benito stared at me with a bored expression as we sat there at a standstill. His gun pressed against my temple, my knife to his throat.

Every inch of my body was hyper-aware of Benito. Any subtle movement, and I would drag my knife over his throat. The same could be expected from him as his finger caressed the trigger.

“One day you’re going to push me too far, and I’ll break your pretty little neck.” Benito squeezed my throat before letting it go and backed up.

“Don’t,” I warned him. “We’ve had this fight before.” “Yeah, and it ends with me painting your office in my blood while you pummel me,” Gin said. “But I don’t give a fuck. That woman is a demon from the bowels of hell. Not to mention toxic as fuck.”

Benito glared as if he was picturing all types of ways to murder me. My stomach tightened in knots as the urge to ask him to do it clawed at my insides. Would he describe it as he shoved his cock inside me?

“I said you were mine.” “That’s the exact same thing,” I said. “If I belong to you, then you belong to me.”

“Benito.” “Fuck, you don’t ever say my name like that,” I groaned as I rolled my hips against him. “Say it again.” “Fuck you.” I laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you say it again. I’ll make you fucking moan and scream it.”

That smile lit up his whole face. It was different from his smug looks or the taunting expression he so often wore. It was almost enough to knock me off my feet. Fuck. He’s beautiful.

Harlow tried to pull away, and I slammed him against the wall once more. “The next time you send some other man out to buy you panties, I’ll set them on fire. You’ll be lucky if you don’t follow.” A groan slipped his lips before he wet them. “It’s so hot when you threaten to kill me.”

The rumors hadn’t done him justice. Benito far exceeded my expectations. No god could compare.

“Go away, Tony. I need to kill my husband.”

Maybe after I handled business, I’d go see Benito. Not for anything else but to fuck, of course. It wasn’t like I wanted to see him. Right?

“Are you jealous?” I spat. Why did that question make my heart jump? I realized I wanted him to be. I wanted Benito to want to burn down the world for me. It was a childish dream I had no need for, but it burrowed into my soul the more I tried to brush it away.

“You’re mine. No one will ever have you again,” Benito growled against my lips before he kissed me viciously. Our teeth clashed along with our tongues. It wasn’t sweet at all; it was pure violence.

It felt so good to kiss Benito, almost like I was always meant to.

He whispered into my ear. “Sei un mistero per me, mostricio. Non so cosa fare con te.”

I am afraid to want anything. Someday, everything will be taken away, but I think I want this.

“You can’t just assume that I fuck every woman I’m around.” “Then maybe you shouldn’t fuck every woman you’re around,” he snapped.

The corners of his mouth tilted up in a smile. My chest tightened at the sight of it. Benito always glared or looked menacing; his smile almost made him look happy. I could fall for that smile. Fall? For Benito? Seriously, have I sustained a brain injury?

“Hai delle bellissime mani delicate. Sembrano e si sentono bene avvolte intorno al mio cazzo.”

When he wasn’t around, I had fucking withdrawals. It was a problem. He was a problem. I don’t want to be away from him.

The thought of dating my husband was so stupid, but I wanted it. I craved it. I cupped Harlow’s cheek, and when I didn’t deny his words, pink stained his cheeks.

He sank his teeth into my shoulder. “Mine.” Hissing, I thrust upward as pain mixed with pleasure. I wrapped a hand around his throat. “Mine,” I growled right back.

“Benito!” “Sì chiama il mio nome mostricio. Non osare fermarti, cazzo.”

Hope. I should spit on the word. It had no place in my vocabulary. Yet here I was, hoping for something with Benito.

I knew that falling down the rabbit hole that was Benito Vitale only ended in two ways. Either I would plummet to my death or be left broken.

I sauntered over to him and plopped down on his lap. I grunted and moved a little. “Are you happy to see me, or is that a gun?” “Both.” Benito’s arms went around my waist effortlessly. It screamed domesticated, but I couldn’t figure out if I’d tamed Benito Vitale or he’d tamed me.

One wrong move, and I’d have to kill Quincy. He was my best friend. Yet there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in me. If he even looked like he was going to shoot Benito, I would drive my knife into his flesh. I’d grieve later.