Say I Do (Vitale Brothers, #3)

by Brea Alepoú

“The number of fucks I give has gone way below zero, Giancarlo.”

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.

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

“I don’t care about hot,” I said evenly. “What I wanted was a quiet, calm housewife who wouldn’t interfere with my shit,” I snapped. I tossed back the rest of my drink. “Fuck! Instead, I get Giancarlo. On steroids.”

“Both of you fuck off,” I snapped. “All you care about are your goddamn boyfriends now. Remember when it was just us?” I waved around the bar. “All we had was each other. Now you two fuck off as soon as you can. Screw you both.” Gin whistled. “Someone’s in his feelings tonight.”

“Fuck you!” Gin scoffed. “This family doesn't give a damn about me and how intelligent I am. All I do is help you assholes out, and what do I get? Bullshit!” He poured the drinks despite his yapping. “Motherfuckers.”

“Do it one more time, and I’ll strangle the life out of you.” Harlow grinned at me. “I’m almost tempted to do it again,” he mused. “Squeeze harder.”

Fuck. I’m so fucked, or I want to be fucked. Either was fine with me.

I made my way to the main bedroom. Benito still wasn’t back, giving me time to put away the new clothing along with the others in our now shared bedroom. He thought he could put me in the guest room out of sight and out of mind. I thought the fuck not. Benito would think about me every second of every day. I would burrow so deep into the man’s psyche that he would start believing we were one and the same.

I shook my head. “Grow up. I get that you’re young, but all of us have to do shit we don’t want to do. That’s life.” I pushed my fingers through my hair. “We’d better get back.”

I twisted the ring in the palm of my hand. As I sank to my knee, Harlow held out his hand. I glanced up at him as he touched his free hand to his chest as if it was the happiest moment of his life. Are his eyes watering? How the fuck is he doing that? Son of a bitch!

Kill me! He’s a fucking psychopath who leaves a trail of dildos wherever he goes! I cleared my throat. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, you’re so straight,” he panted. “I could tell by the way you kissed me,” he said as he winked.

The marriage was a sham. There wasn’t an inch of me that believed we were more than two unwilling people forced to be together regardless of that fact. However, that didn’t matter. For the next however many years we’re stuck together, Benito Vitale is mine.

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.”

Harlow sighed. “You know, being a dick that’s trying the whole push me away thing isn’t going to work for you. I’m stuck here.” He turned to stare at me. “We’re stuck together. So stop your shit. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You aren’t the first man my father traded me off to. You just happen to be the last.”

“Avete messo il mio amico contro di me,” Quincy said. “Parla italiano?” “Che cosa hai fatto alla mia Harlow?”

Shit, fuck, damn. I think I like Benito Vitale.

“Dude, you’re walking around eating cookie dough from the roll like it’s a summer sausage. Someone’s gotta say something,” Giancarlo said. I nodded. It was getting out of hand. “Honestly, I’d rather you came home drunk at this point. This shit is… terrifying. Me. I’m terrified.”

“He set up cameras in the house to watch you?” “That’s hot.”

“Yeah. After the mothers you chose for us, I’m thinking it was the trauma.”