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I narrow my eyes at him, and when I jerk out of his hold this time, he lets me. “Piss off.”
He grinds his teeth. “Now’s not the time to test me, princess.”
“Test you? Why would I ever marry a psychopath who not only kidnapped me but also a priest? Not fucking happening.”
“Put on the dress,” he snarls.
I stand tall. “No.”
He inches so close that we’re standing toe-to-toe, and his lips brush my nose as he speaks. “Do you remember what I said at the hospital? I put a bomb in Benny’s car. He’s at the mansion now, which is great timing for me because when I blow up his car, it’ll also take out the mansion.”
I shudder at his evil smirk.
“And let’s not forget, princess. I know where your sweet aunt in Italy lives.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I sneer.
“I will do thatand moreif you don’t change into that dress, put a smile on your face, and marry me.”
I glare at him.
“Change.” He retreats a step, snatches the dress from the bed, and shoves it back into my hands. “Or do I need to dress you myself?”
My heart feels almost ill.
This is the man I thought I loved.
“Can you at least give me some privacy?” I gesture toward the door.
He shakes his head. “Changenow.”
I stubbornly don’t move.
He grits his teeth. “If you don’t put that dress on in the next thirty seconds, I’ll kill the priest.” His stare levels on me—the most intense I’ve ever seen from him. “His blood will be on your hands, princess.” His touch is cold as he taps his fingers along my bare arm. “Surely, that’ll send us both to hell, you allowing me to murder a priest for your stubbornness.”
Arguing is a waste of time.
He’s forcing me to marry him—whether I like it or not.
I can either do it wearing a white dress or a bloodstained one.
I’m spewing every curse word I can while stripping out of my shirt.
Antonio scoffs when I attempt to cover myself while lowering my shorts. “I’ve seen, touched, and tasted every inch of your body. No need for discretion.”
“None of those will ever happen again,” I huff out. “And where did you even get this stuff?” I slip on the dress without bothering to look at it.
“The dress store.”
“Smart-ass.” I sigh, straighten my shoulders, and motion down my body. “Are you happy now? Is this good enough not to become a corpse bride?”
He licks his lips while creeping his gaze down my body. When he appears satisfied, he tips his head toward the veil. “Don’t forget that.”
“You’re joking?”
He stares at me, deadpan.
“Fine.” I snatch the veil and struggle to put it on.
