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For the first time in my life, I’m speechless. I’ve never had a woman in my apartment for longer than it took for her to make me come. And then, she would be out on her ass before she can thank me for the pleasure.

This woman will be my wife soon.

“You’re here to repay the De Rossi Familia for your father’s sins,” I inform her, but I’m sure she already knows that. I watch her for a long while and when she finally sighs, nodding in response.

She turns to regard me then. “My father may have made bad choices in his life, but with your parents—”

My hand is on my knife in seconds, and I’m closing the distance between me and my new bride before she can finish her sentence. Her fear is palpable when I shove her back against the window. Her back flat against the cool glass as my arm rests on her windpipe. The sleek, silver blade whispers a threat against her cheek. “If you ever speak of what happened again, if you ever try to say your father was in the right to do what he did, or if you ever, ever mention my parents again,” I hiss, my words dripping poison onto the space between us. “I will end you just like they sliced my parents into ribbons. Mattea Cavallone may not have their blood on his hands, but the Cavallones are stained nonetheless.”

She tips her head back, her chin lifting in defiance at me. “Do it,” she says, pushing against the blade that’s kept me safe each time I’ve wielded it against an enemy. The smooth skin of her delicate neck darkens slightly from the scrape of metal, and my cock throbs against my zipper.

Pushing away from her before she hurts herself, I narrow my gaze, locking my stare on hers. “Don’t tempt me, little dancer.” Tipping my head to the side, I can’t stop the sinister smile from curling my lips. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we get to know each other.” I turn and make my way to the exit. This time, I shut myself out of her bedroom before I lean against the smooth wooden surface, my eyes closed, my head tipped back against the door.

Pulling my cell phone from my pocket and I hit call on Mario’s number before making my way to the living room where I pour a double shot of smoky Macallan. When he doesn’t answer the first time, I try again, and that’s when he picks up.

“Have you killed her already?” he asks in greeting, but the amusement in his tone tells me he thinks I’ll probably murder the pretty little dancer before I say I do.

“No,” I bite out before swallowing back the deep amber liquid. The burn trails its way down my throat, and I revel in the fire as it reaches my stomach. “I can’t have her live here.”

“She’s going to be your wife, Enzo,” he tells me in a tone that frustrates me. This is why I’ve been friends with him for as long as I have, he’s levelheaded where I am more inclined to go with murder, before going along with this stupid idea my father had, that me marrying someone, will settle me down.

“She’s invaded my bedroom, my closet, even my fucking head,” I finally bite out. “She’s a nuisance, and I don’t like the distraction. I have work to do and I can’t concentrate if she’s going to go snooping around my house.”

Mario sighs. I picture him rolling his eyes and smiling as he listens to my frustrations. “Get to know her, give her a chance.”

“Are you saying I’ll eventually love her?” I sneer, the thought causing my body to burn hot with anger. “She’s a Cavallone, the only way I’ll ever feel anything for her is when I finally get to slice all that pretty porcelain skin from her bones.”

My best friend chuckles. The sound so foreign to me now. He used to laugh around my mother all the time. She would always bring out the best in him. And that’s why I’ll never love Luna. She’s a reminder of what my family has become.

I think back to a conversation I had once with my father when he brought up arranged marriage. I didn’t think he’d go through with it at the time.

“Listen to me,” Dad says, his voice taking on a saddened tone. “I didn’t love your mother when we first got married, either. It takes time in situations like these.”

I pour another drink before walking over to the balcony doors and staring out into the night. “You both always seemed so in love, so perfect?” I never thought of myself as a husband, that I would settle down and have one woman in my bed for the rest of my life. It wasn’t in my plan. All I wanted was to take over the Familia from my father and ensure that nobody could ever overthrow us. We’ve built a strong foundation, one I know is solid, but if I had someone beside me, maybe it would be easier. The thought of a woman walking into my life, being forced to marry me, and become part of my family, I’m not sure know how long it will last.

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