“I can’t believe this shit.”
“Dom,” her quivering palms touched me again, “what’s wrong?”
Roughly, I squeezed both her wrists and took her hands off me. She gasped in response. “What are you doing?”
“What amIdoing? What areyoudoing?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your sister’ssuggestion.”
The flicker of panic in her eyes confirmed my doubts. Cazzo. “What? I don’t…”
“Don’t even think about lying. Not anymore.”
“Can you, at least, hear me out? Please?”
I shot up to my feet and buttoned my fucking shirt. “Hear what? That she told you to try things out, to get over your…issues and then break up with me, to plain use me so you’d be ready for someone else. Someone that isn’tmy kind.”
“No, Dom. It’s not…” She cursed, shaking her head. “It’s not exactly like that.”
I chuckled bitterly. “Well, here’s another suggestion for you. Say no more, Signorina Baldi, or thinking you can play me won’t be the only mistake you’ll regret.”
CHAPTER 13
Nicky
The morning sun seeped through my windows, and I hadn’t gotten any sleep. After last night’s fiasco, Domenico stormed out of the room, and I locked it behind him. I should have gone after him, tried to fix things or make him understand or, at least, apologized, but my pride and guilt got in the way.
How could I have been so stupid? I thought if I went with Lina’s plan, I’d get out of this dubious engagement without having to start a fucking war. I’d have shown Tino I was on board long enough to make him believe I changed and accepted my part in the family, and then when I’d have told him I didn’t want to marry Domenico, he’d have believed Domenico and I just didn’t click and would have broken the engagement.
Now, everything was fucking ruined. Domenico would tell Tino I wasn’t as innocent as he’d expected me to be, and I’d get the heat for it. Not that I cared about what Tino thought of me. We already had a feud going, what was another nail in the coffin of our unruly father-daughter relationship?
Much to my surprise, what I really cared about was Domenico’s feelings. How did I put myself in a situation where I blamed myself for fucking hurting Il Coyote? Heck, I didn’t even think he had any feelings to get hurt.
I thought he was an unredeemable jerk that deserved what was coming at him. He was plotting behind my back to get me to marry him without my consent only to have his way with me. I was nothing but a fucktoy he really wanted. I had no doubt a man with his moral compass would have no trouble turning to his side chicks when he was bored with me. Lina had told me horrors about those kinds of marriages in the Mafia world. It wasn’t like he was in love with me to stay loyal.
Even if that was a possibility, and I’d healed from my past trauma, I’d never agree to such marriage. Cheating wasn’t the only awful shit I’d be concerned about in a marriage with Domenico Lanza. I had every right to choose the man and lifestyle I wanted for my future.
He was playing me. He shouldn’t have been hurt by my counter attack. It was only fair. Or so I’d thought.
Last night, Domenico was, as much as I hated to admit it, a gentleman. He didn’t try anything, and even when I invited him he was trying to resist. And then he was more than understanding, letting me go as slow as I wanted, accepting and fucking caring. He wasn’t rough or cruel or selfish as I’d expected him to be. He was the complete opposite. And incredibly sexy.
Did I really stereotype him? Was I really wrong with my judgment?
No. One good deed didn’t make a good person.Don’t think with your ovaries, Nicky. Those sculpted, hard muscles and gigantic bulge in his pants shouldn’t cloud your judgment. Or have you forgotten what he last said before he left?
I couldn’t ignore the shift in his attitude when he found out what I was up to or his last words.Say no more, Signorina Baldi, or thinking you can play me won’t be the only mistake you’ll regret.
I couldn’t gauge the gravity of his threat. Was it something he just said to intimidate me or did he really mean it? Whether his dark promise was empty or serious, I knew one thing. It was the first time I was truly scared of Domenico Lanza.
For hours, I’d been trying to shake the feeling and put the whole thing behind me. I’d even played my favorite movie and thought about finishing what I’d started twice in the same night and failed to finish, but not even Massimo’s company succeeded to do the trick or knock me out. I kept thinking of the breathing, steaming, really tall and packing version plotting his vengeance against me in my own living room.
Great, the asshole had ruined Massimo for me.
I kicked the sheets off me and grabbed my phone to call Lina. It was still seven in the morning, but I didn’t give a shit. I needed to talk to my sister.
“What happened? Are you okay?” She answered immediately, as if she was waiting by the phone, concern and alarm dripping from her voice.
