“I want to fuck you right here, in the Bellantis’ house. We need to celebrate, baby.”
I try to twist away, but it’s futile.
“Stop,” I tell him, as loud as I dare. I don’t want anyone to overhear us, but I’m not going to let Rico just paw at me. “Getoff.”
“I’m planning on it,” he whispers gleefully, squeezing my ass painfully hard through my underwear. “Come on, Frankie. Just a quickie.”
“No. Let me go. Now.” I pummel my fists against his chest and hiss, “I saidno!”
He presses his torso into me, pinning me in place as he tugs my skirt up my thighs.
“You used to love my cock,” he’s saying. “Don’t you remember?”
My stomach convulses as I attempt one last time, with all my might, to push him away. But he’s too tall, too strong, and he seems to have completely lost any common sense. He’s running on pure lust, high on a power trip. There’s nothing I can do to stop him.
“Stop, Rico, dammit! Stop—”
Suddenly, his body goes flying backwards. I hear him hit the floor, but all I see is Dante, standing there with his fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with hard breaths. Armani and Marco are behind him. All of the Bellanti brothers look ready to crack some skulls.
Rico scrambles to his feet, but doesn’t have a chance to get his bearings before Dante pushes him back, farther away from me.
“She said no,” Dante growls.
“She’s my wife,” Rico says, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Shebelongsto me. I can do with her what I want.”
Dante moves so his body is between me and Rico, blocking my view. Dante’s voice drops to a quiet, murderous rumble that I’ve never heard from him before.
“She told you no,” he says slowly. “Youdon’t touch herwhen she says no. Now get the fuck out of my house.”
Rico laughs, but it comes out weakly. “You can’t do anything to me, I’m—”
He’s cut off by Armani and Marco grabbing him. Taking an arm each, they march him out the door, leaving me and Dante in sudden silence.
17
Dante
Frankie’s eyesare glassy with shock, her lips pressed into a tight line as she slumps against the wall.
I still can’t believe that asshole laid his hands on her, and right in my own fucking home.
“You don’t belong to him,” I tell her.
Approaching slowly, I reach out and cup the side of her face, moving my thumb over her soft skin. I want nothing more than to gather her up in my arms and comfort her, but I’m afraid to. Seeing Correa overpower her like that…it puts some of my past actions in a whole new light.
We had discussed it once, sort of, but seeing the fear that Correa put into her eyes makes me feel sick. Frankie won’t even look at me. Her eyes are on the floor, her body trembling, as if she’s still caught between fight and flight.
“What he did…when he touched you like that…” I trail off, shaking my head. “Have I done that? I just…did I ever make you—”
She finally looks up at me. “I always wanted you, Dante. Every single time.”
With a rush of relief, I give in to my caveman impulses and pull her into my arms. She belongs to me, not that asshole, regardless of what any marriage certificate says. I inhale her scent, gently stroke her hair. I’ve spent all this time trying to get her out of my head, trying to pretend I didn’t want her, shoving back my feelings, acting like I have the same heart of stone my father did. But the truth is, I’ve missed her more than I could ever put into words.
I’m done fighting it.
Her body is tense in my arms but she slowly relaxes by degrees. The hard rise and fall of her chest eventually slows, and then she’s melting against me, her cheek pressed into my chest. Her hands gripping the lapels of my jacket.
I pull back to tip her chin up and press my lips softly to hers. Just for a moment, just long enough to reassure her, with zero aggression in case she doesn’t want this. In fact, I’m almost expecting her to push me away.
