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“Gio.” She flashed a wide smile, her boobs nearly falling out of her tight black dress. “I need to talk to you.” She lifted her brows and tilted her head toward the office.

I stiffened, wanting to tear her peroxide hair from her skull.

“Give me a moment,” he said, and then I wanted to tear his damn eyes from his skull.

I forced myself to remain calm, not to react as Laylah sashayed her way to the office.

Gio swept my hair from my neck, his lips trailing up the side and pressing beneath my ear. “Still want me to fuck someone else, Emilia?”

I had no right to feel hurt. I did tell him to fuck someone else…I couldn’t have prepared myself for the pain in my chest, though. I felt sick; I wanted to cry and scream at him, but I didn’t. Because I also wanted him to prove me right, to be awful and destroy whatever this was that I felt for him. So we could have a cold marriage where he couldn’t hurt me.

Steeling myself, I pushed out of his lap and turned to face him. “If that’s what you want.” Please don’t want it.

“So, if I go in that office with Laylah, you won’t get jealous?”

I swallowed heavily, trying to calm the racing beat of my heart. This was for the best so I could survive this marriage with my heart and sanity intact. “I’d have to care to feel jealous.” I forced myself to hold his gaze as the lies fell from my lips. “You mean nothing to me, Giovanni.” I saw the hit land, the nail in an already-sealed coffin.

His gaze hardened before he pushed to his feet, jaw ticcing. “Very well.” He picked up his drink and strode away from me toward his office.

I watched him open the door and slip inside. Watched him leave me and go to her. Because I had pushed him. Good. This was good.

I wanted to drink until I truly didn’t care. He should have carved out any feelings I had for him when he put a knife to my brother’s throat, to my throat. I hoped he was fucking Laylah. Maybe then I’d finally stop wanting him.

My mind ran rampant, imagining what was going on only feet away from me behind that mirrored glass. The ring on my finger suddenly felt like it was burning me. So, I slipped it off and dropped it into my bag.

Fuck Gio. I was going to dance and get lost in a crowd of strangers. For just a few moments, I was going to be a normal girl. I strode over to the small bar and ordered another drink. Every fiber of me wanted to turn around and look at that damn office while I waited. It was like an itch at the back of my neck, driving me insane. The moment the drink landed on the bar, I downed it.

“Add it to my fiancé’s tab,” I said before walking toward the stairs.

A wall of muscle blocked my path, and my gaze tracked up over a wide chest before landing on Jackson’s scowling face. I took a small step back because as much as I thought he wouldn’t hurt me, he was terrifying. I wobbled on my heel, and his hand engulfed my arm, steadying me.

“Did you get dicked with babysitting duty while he gets his cock sucked?”

His stern expression cracked into a more familiar smile. He was still scary, but much less so when he smiled. “You can’t go down there, little sparrow.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “Why not?”

“Boss’s orders.”

“So, I can’t dance?”

“Sure, you can, sweetness. Just right here.”

I glanced around, and the only people dancing were two drunk women beside a table of men who were watching them like it was a personal show. No thanks.

Fuck this. “Gio owns this club, does he not?”

“Yeah…”

“And in a few days’ time, I’ll marry him, which means I’ll own it.”

Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “I suppose so.”

“Then I’ll go where I like in my club.”

He threw his head back on a laugh, and I shoved past him. “You know what, you go for it.” He followed behind me, his colossal weight shaking the metal stairs with each step. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His hand clapped over my shoulder at the bottom as he curled his huge frame over me, bringing his lips to my ear. “And if I were you, I’d put that ring back on.”

I glanced over his shoulder, up at the glass office. I could picture their bodies intertwined, her moaning his name— “No, I don’t think I will.”

He laughed again and released me, sweeping his arm toward the dance floor.

I slipped into the crowd, and Jackson didn’t follow me, but I could feel him watching. Music washed over me as bodies pressed in on every side, their energy infecting me. Despite my emotional turmoil, a smile pulled at my lips as my hips swayed to the beat. It was so…freeing.


Tags: L.P. Lovell Erotic