She opens for me, a moan escaping her lips before I swallow it. My free hand comes up and grips her chin, arching her neck back for me. I deepen the kiss, just as the palms of her hands hit my chest.
She steps away from me, breathing heavily, and shouts, “I said no.” There’s that fire I like. But it’s unnecessary at the moment. I’m not the one she should be mad at.
“I never heard those words.”
She slaps me across the face. “I’m not for sale, Luca. I’m not going to give you my body because you wrote a check.”
“It was actually cash …”
She slaps me again.
This time, I grip her face, spin her around, and slam her back into the wall. Her eyes widen, and she gasps. Her hands come up and grip my wrists. “Luca …”
“Let’s get one thing straight, Haven,” I growl in her face. “We can do this one of two ways. One, you cooperate, and I’ll treat you well. Or two, you be a fucking bitch, and I treat you like one. Do you understand me?”
Her pretty dark eyes fill with tears. I watch one fall down her flushed cheek from her run. She’s so beautiful. She always was. When other girls were spending hours on their makeup, she was throwing on mascara and lip gloss and called it good. She has a little freckle on the right side of her upper lip, and I loved to run my thumb over it. Her amber-colored eyes and chestnut hair make her stunning. She is what a man dreams of. I know I always have. That’s why I never let her get too far away. There were many times she tried to break it off with me, but I wouldn’t let her. I am Luca Bianchi, and I always get what I want. Even if I have to lie, cheat, or steal for it. She will be my wife and the mother of my children.
“Luca,” she whimpers.
“Do you understand?” I shout, losing my patience. I don’t know why she’s fighting me on this. She should be thanking me. I saved her father. Her future. She would be out on the streets with them within a year at the rate he was going. He’s in deep debt and was about to lose everything before I stepped in. They were days away from their Victorian mansion being in foreclosure. Her father had several of his cars hidden in an undisclosed lot, for Christ’s sake. What would she have done? Where would she have gone?
“Yes,” she whispers as the tears run down her face.
I release her and take a step back. Not even bothering to grab my towel, I exit the bathroom and slam the door shut behind me. I pass by the kitchen, grab the flowers, and throw them into the trash, knowing that I need to show Haven just what kind of a guy I can be.
HAVEN
I stand in the bathroom, silently crying, trying to get my emotions under control. My run didn’t help one bit. And neither did last night. I couldn’t sleep. He had walked out of his room and never returned.
Where the hell had he gone? Who did he go meet? Was it a woman? I hate how much I care to know the answer to that question. And he had recently showered. His hair was wet, and his towel sits at my feet. I lean down to pick it up. Had he showered to get the smell of a woman off? Did he use protection?
We both know we’re not marrying for love, so it wouldn’t surprise me to know he spent the night with someone else.
I open the shower door and turn on the water. I step in and allow the scalding hot water to burn my skin. To cover my tears. What will my life be now? How long until he gets bored with me? Before he throws me away? I didn’t get to read the contract. Did it have a clause where we have to stay married for so many years? And if so, how many? I don’t know a lot about the Mafia, but I’m pretty sure the only way you can be free is if they die. And even after that, your life is still devoted to the Mafia.
I take my time in the shower, making sure to scrub every inch of my body. At one point, I sit down and rock back and forth, trying to come up with a plan. But I get nothing.
My name has been signed. The deal is done.
Stepping out, I wrap the towel around myself and walk into the spare bedroom. I scream when I see a man standing over by the door.
I tighten the towel around myself. “What are you doing? Get out!” I shout.