“Wear the navy blue dress,” Marcello ordered.
I elbowed him in the stomach. “I’ll wear whatever I want.”
He groaned, his grip tightening as his fingers skated down my arm, creating tiny bumps in his wake. “I know what my brother likes. And what makes his cock hard will make him happy.”
“Would that dress make your cock hard?”
A guttural sound escaped his throat as his lips brushed my ear. He flattened my back against his chest and clutched my throat, his fingers branding my skin like hot pokers. I tilted my head to the side to give him better access to my neck, hoping he would press his lips to my hot flesh.
Too stubborn to take the bait, he released his grip on me. Damn him. I lifted the hanger from the rack and spun around to face him. Holding the wrap dress in front of my body, I stared into the mirror. The navy blue chiffon stopped mid-thigh with a thin belt tied around the waist.
“You’d only have to tug here.” I pulled on the belt. “And it would fall off.”
“If I were Luca,” he said as his eyes raked over my body, “I wouldn’t even bother with the belt.”
I licked my lips. “I’m not talking about Luca.”
If I couldn’t wiggle my way into Luca’s freezer of a heart, then maybe I could tempt Marcello into dishing out the Salvatore secrets. He’d helped my brother find The Serpents last year, told him where to look. No matter the cost, I had to work all available angles.
Marcello shook his head. “Take a shower and get dressed. I’m taking you into town for breakfast.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “What’s the occasion?”
“The staff are busy in the kitchen getting ready for tonight. And the party planners are running through the house. It’s a mess downstairs. Too many people. I need to get out of here.”
I flashed a grin, excited by the thought of fresh air and sunshine after days inside the house.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he said with an attitude. “I can see the wheels turning into that beautiful brain.”
I gave him an angelic smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it, boss man.”
My eyes shot open, and panic flooded my chest. Struggling for air, I sucked in deep breaths as his hand covered my mouth, the other wrapped around my throat as he caged me against the mattress with his long, muscular body.
I attempted to scream, and he tightened his grip on my throat, crushing my windpipe with his hand. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. I kicked and squirmed, desperate to break free from his death grip. He was too strong, his body hard as steel and pressing down on my chest. My throat burned from the acid churning in my stomach.
I gasped for air and pawed at his fingers. “Get off me.”
He slid his hand up and down my throat, massaging the skin while still maintaining a firm grip. “Are you going to play nice, baby girl?”
His words were cold and silky, his usual calm before the storm. Luca never yelled, which always struck me as odd for someone with so much rage inside him. I shook my head, and his nostrils flared, matching the intensity that brewed in his eyes.
“Then, my hand stays on your mouth,” he snapped.
I groaned, my words muffled.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” Luca stuck out his tongue and licked the length of my cheek, stopping right below my eye. “You ready to act like a good girl?”
Using every bit of my power, I shoved into his chest, but it was like trying to move a car with my bare hands, pointless and not worth the energy. He would only make it hurt worse, dragging out the pain because he got off on it.
“Now,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Are you going to scream if I move my hand?”
“No,” I muttered against his palm.
He uncovered my mouth. “I just want to talk, baby.”
Pushing my palm into his chest, I yelled, “Get out of my room, you psycho.”
“You fucked him,” he said through clenched teeth. “Admit it.”
“No,” I gasped. “It never got that far. He didn’t even try to kiss me.”
When I traveled to New York to see a colleague’s art exhibition, I met Eli Sawyer. He was a handsome art collector in his late twenties, rich and unmarried, so of course, I took him up on his offer for drinks. But it went no farther than that.
Luca’s lip trembled from the wave of anger shaking through him. I opened my mouth to speak, and he pressed my shoulder to the mattress.
“You’re disgusting, a fucking deviant. No one will ever be dumb enough to love you.”
A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You think I want your love?” Luca shook his head, and black hair fell in front of his blue irises. “I want to hear you scream, feel your body tremble beneath mine.”