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He slaps his palms on the bed on each side of me. “I traveled all the way to Italy to see you.”
“No, you came to Italy tofuck me.” Spit follows the last two words, hitting his cheek.
He turns quiet.
All my life, I’ve watched my brother use women.
I’ve seen other men do the same and heard the stories.
I stupidly believed it was different with Antonio.
Believed I wouldn’t fall victim to the same trap.
“Leave.” I point at the door. “Right now.”
He inches so close that our chests touch. “What if I don’t want to?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you want anymore. Get out.”
“You think you can force me out?”
“I’ll scream bloody murder until Bruno comes in here.” I pause to jab two fingers into his forehead. “He’ll put a bullet through that ugly, manipulative brain of yours.” When I go to push his forehead again, he grabs my wrist. “One less Lombardi in this world, the better.”
“You scream, and I’ll thrust my cock down your throat so hard that you won’t speak for a week.”
I wet my lips before brushing them against his. “Do it then.”
“Don’t test me, princess.”
He bites into my lip, his sharp canine breaking skin, and I struggle not to flinch.
“Don’t test me, Lombardi.” As soon as he releases my lip, I sink my teeth into his as hard as I can. “You’d better kill me now because if you don’t, I’ll tell every man in my family what you’ve done with me the past few nights.”
While my bite didn’t cause him to flinch, my threat does.
He rears back to glare at me. “Don’t act like you didn’t fucking want it.”
“Consent or not, if I tell my father you even touched me, he’ll kill you.” I pat his shoulder and make my voice as mocking as possible. “You might think you know me since all you’ve seen is the sweet Gigi, but if you try me, I’ll show you my claws.” I dig my nails into his shirt. “There’s Marchetti blood inside me. I’m the one woman you don’t want to piss off because I come with a death sentence. No judge. No jury. Straight to the grave.”
He bruised my heart, so I want to annihilate his—if he even has one to do that to.
“Leave, Antonio,” I say, gritting my teeth. “I’ll give you sixty seconds before I scream.”
His face darkens. “You make me leave tonight, I won’t be back, Gigi.”
“Good.” I shove him away, grab my alarm clock, set it for sixty seconds, and hold it up on display. “Your time starts now. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven …”
9
“This is so yummy, Daddy.” Amara takes the last bite of her gelato. “Can I order another?”
I squeeze her shoulder as I stand. “Another round for everyone?”
Amara holds up two fingers. “Two scoops, please!”
“I’ll try pistachio this time,” Clara adds from the chair beside her.
“Ask if there’s a vodka flavor,” Damien says. “For you and me both.”
