Page 28 of Humility

“Jasmine does not need to find a new fiancé. We have been friends and courting one another for years. It brings me great joy to announce that our families will join,” Ciro said. I was tempted to stand, slap him, announce him as a liar, and storm out.

Instead, I chugged the wine, not caring if it was ladylike. Smiling, I sat the glass down on the table with a clink and stood with a flourish.

“Well, it seems that all of you men have my future planned out, and I might as well leave you to discuss the details that I will also have no say in. If you will excuse me, I have women's things to attend to,” I growled sarcastically.

How was it that we lived in a modern world, yet I was treated no better than a breeding bitch to be sold off? I knew my papa had tried to arrange a marriage for me once before, but I thought that was past us. Apparently, I was wrong.

“Jasmine,” Ciro said, rising to his feet.

He looked mortified and apologized with his eyes, but this was asking too much of our friendship. I would lie and cover for him forever, but now my life—quite literally—was tied to his and his bed. I would never know passion or true love from someone who viewed me as their whole world. I would not give up my chance—slim as it may be—at happiness to keep his secret.

My father grabbed Ciro’s arm as I stomped past the couch. “Let her go, she will come around.”

“She is like a high-spirited horse and needs to be trained with a hard crop. You’ve been too soft with her,” Jacopo said.

“Agreed,” Bruno chimed in.

They were lucky I was unarmed, or I would’ve cut off both of their dicks and fed them to them.

“Jacapo watch yourself,” Papa snarled, but I didn’t stick around to see what happened next.

“Like hell, you’ll train my princess ass,” I growled under my breath.

They did train one thing into me…never trust a man. Every man I trusted had betrayed me.

I flung the door open and stomped out, pointing at the four women waiting.

“Do not follow me unless you want me to shave your heads bald, tattoo penises on your faces, and not pay you for a year.” Their eyes grew wide as I marched down the hall, leaving them, the guards, and the two men I thought I could trust in this world behind.

Sorry Ciro, but I’d rather live penniless on the streets than sell my soul to the system that would condemn us both. It was a good thing I already had a backup plan.

Chapter Thirteen

ANGELO

“Ugh,” Enzo grunted as he came all over my realtor’s face while Dario rammed her like a fucking bull from behind. She would’ve been screaming if it weren’t for the ball shoved in her mouth. Instead, her cries and moans were reduced to throat noises and soft whimpers.

There was nothing soft about Dario. Quiet and grumpy was his normal, but he’d changed over the last five years. Since all the shit went down and we lost Jasmine for good, he had gotten colder, harder.

I’d already fucked her and was now sitting back bored with the show. She was an okay lay, not great, but okay. She took this instead of payment for services rendered, always kept my name off the paperwork, and moved my shell company's names around to keep me well hidden. She was good at her job, and so was the lawyer I hired. Luckily, he was a man and preferred cash over sex.

Picking up the decanter, I filled my glass and stared at the dark brown contents. I was extremely proud of this recipe. I’d always wanted to try it, but my father wouldn’t hear of changing our signature whiskey.

This whiskey recipe has been in the family for five generations, son. You don’t mess with perfection.

I hadn’t realized until I was kicked out of my home how much I needed the boot in the ass to finally make my way and step out from the shadow of my father. Banishment sucked, but now that we’d settled on the outskirts of Sin Haven and Beastville—two small towns loaded with heathens and underground business—we were thriving. Between the realty and construction business as well as my highly coveted whiskey distillery, we made money hand over fist.

I clenched my hand and glared at the family rings I still wore. They were a constant reminder of what I lost and what I planned on taking back one day.

Dario grunted, and I looked up just in time to see him rip off the condom and unload all over Mrs. Sherwood’s ass. She flopped on the leather bench, her body heaving and shimmering with sweat. Standing, I wandered over to the woman who had become a monthly staple despite her husband.

Polishing off the whiskey, I rolled the flavor around my mouth and stared down at my realtor. Her normally neat hair was a mess and stuck to the side of her face. Her green eyes rolled up to mine.

“I assume we are paid in full for another month?”

“Mmmhmm,” she mumbled through the gag.

“Excellent.” I looked at Enzo, flopped in a chair, his head back and cock limp. “Get dressed and show Mrs. Sherwood out.”