Page 144 of Brutal Heir

I twisted my fingers in her hair, holding her head steady, turning my kiss into an assault of possession. I moved my right hand to the bodice of her dress, frustration building at the fabric separating us.

I needed to feel her skin, her warmth, her heartbeat pounding against me.

I was a man possessed.

I dug my fingernails into the delicate fabric of her collar and tore downward.

Diamonds and pearls scattered across the stone pavement, their tiny pings lost in the thundering rush of blood in my ears.

But nothing drowned out her cries.

I moved my lips from her mouth to her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears.

“Please, Sebastian. I’m begging you. Please just let me go,” she sobbed, her fingers digging into the flesh of my upper arms.

I froze, staring down at her tear-streaked face.

Her sapphire-blue eyes glistened, sparkling with unshed tears, their brilliance made sharper by the rawness of her emotion.

This was the moment.

I could have her on a plane back to New York within the hour.

In a few months—maybe weeks, maybe days—she’d forget all about Rome.

Forget about me.

She could return to her life, unscathed.

Innocent.

Free.

I could find another way to stop her father’s plans for the House of Diamanti. I was a man of business with unlimited resources. There was always another way, another plan.

I didn’t have to destroy her life.

I didn’t have to be that man.

That monster.

My father’s son.

I could choose to let her go, as she'd so sweetly begged.

I could stop the pain I'd started.

Because I knew, after tonight, it would only get worse.

Her father had seen her.

He knew.

I had seen it in his eyes, the exact moment he realized the truth: not only had her mother survived his murder attempt, but she had borne him a daughter.

And worse, he knew she was under my control.

After tonight, there would be no turning back.