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Barely contained.
The beast within…threatening to break free.
“Fine,” he bit out, turning away in frustration. “I’m not your fucking babysitter. You’re an adult.”
I snapped my mouth shut, temporarily stunned, but I caught myself. “Believe me, I am.”
“But do not leave the premises before I organize an escort for you.”
I huffed. “Sure, Daddy, I’ll stay at the resort.” I fluttered my eyelashes for good measure.
The look in his eyes turned laser-sharp and strangely sultry.
I fake-smiled at him, feigning innocence, until he shook his head once, then turned and disappeared into the back office.
I looked at his retreating back and tsked.
Bossing me around has never worked. And what the hell was going on with him?
But right now…watch me, asshole.
And with that, I stormed directly out of the hotel complex, a sense of urgency propelling me forward.
I’d meant to grab a bottle of water and some food before leaving, but my need to escape from Alex—and my need to best him—was trumping any rational thought.
As I walked along the single winding road, I tried to remember what the receptionist said—a couple of miles.
I could easily walk a couple of miles.
Fuck Alex, with his fucking domineering personality, trying to tell me what I could or couldn’t do.
No wonder the women born into the Italian Mafia were all miserable.
Was Gabe the same?
He was dominant and had kidnapped Sophie, not once but twice. But if he tried that shit with Sophie, he would have his hands full. I might be the way I was because of my family history, but Sophie was a damn rebel through and through—to the point of self-sabotage.
For me? Becoming self-reliant and fiercely independent was born out of necessity in a home where my parents were completely absorbed in their mostly toxic relationship.
With a father who barely looked at me and a mother for whom I’d always been just an afterthought.
I learned to be self-reliant to survive.
Learned that being on your own was not the end of the world. And in the course of years of boarding schools and school holidays spent alone, I became the way I was.
Despite the little hiccup of what happened in Italy, and the aftermath that made me quit the jet-setting I’d done all summer.
Ultimately, I was not letting others run my life—especially pompous asses like Alessandro Falcone who thought the world revolved around them.
His charm, his power, his looks…he probably had women falling all over themselves to please him since he grew his first pubic hair.
Please him, or stroke his ego…or stroke something else.
“Arrogant jerk,” I muttered under my breath as I left the hotel in the distance. “Fuck you, Alex Falcone.”
I trudged along the dusty road for another fifteen minutes, sweat dripping down my back.
The morning sun blazed overhead, baking the landscape—and me. I should’ve listened when the receptionist mentioned the current heatwave. But no, I had to storm off because I let the domineering asshole get under my skin.
