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Thoughts of handcuffing him to a bed, locking him in a basement, and saying to hell with the rest of the world are becoming more appealing by the minute. He’s mine. I don’t want to have to share him with his job. It’s selfish, and I know that neither of us have the luxury of choice when it comes down to it. He’s made it very clear:there’s no way out. Thousands of people rely on him. Even if he didn’t want to be the head of the family, which he tells me he does, he has been groomed for the position since the day he was born.
I watch as he plucks my ripped panties from the floor and tucks them into his pocket, before picking up my dress. “I hate to cover up such a masterpiece, but I’m the only one who gets to appreciate this opera d’arte.”
I feel myself growing wetter at his use of Italian. The bastard smirks. He knows what it does to me, even if I have no idea what he’s saying. He literally could be telling me I look like a toad, for all I know. “What does that mean?” I ask, holding my hands up as he slips the dress over my head.
“Work of art. Your body is a fucking work of art, Holly.”
I have no words. How does someone reply to a compliment like that? “Thanks?”
“No need to thank me, dolcezza. I’m the one who should be thanking you. Fucking worshiping you. A guy like me isn’t supposed to end up with a girl like you, Holly. The fact that you haven’t tried to run as far and as fast as you possibly can yet is a miracle.”
“Run? Tell me, Theo, where could I possibly go that you wouldn’t find me?” When he wants to find someone, Neo has their location within the hour—usually less. I’ve seen it myself firsthand, and heard it during conversations I wasn’t meant to be eavesdropping on.
Theo’s face clouds over, his brow furrows, and his lips draw back. “Do you want to run, Holly? Do you want a way out of this?”
Okay, he’s officially insane if he thinks I want to run from him. I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck. “I don’t want to run from you, Theo. I want to bloody runtoyou. Just minutes ago, I was trying to figure out how to make myself a stowaway on your jet, so I could follow you to Italy. I don’t like being away from you. No, I fucking hate it. I fucking hate going to bed at night without you. I hate reaching over, only to find your pillow empty each morning. You got me hooked on you, and then you left. That’s not fair.” By the time I’ve finished my tirade, I’ve untangled myself from him. This conversation has me seeing red. Do I want to run? What kind of question is that? He’s standing there with a huge grin on his face. “What are you smiling about?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest.
His eyes drop with the motion, taking me in before they lift to meet mine, and he shrugs a shoulder. “You’re fucking adorable when you curse, dolcezza.”
“Shut up! I am not!” I smack a hand against his shoulder to shove him back a little. He winces, hiding it fast, but not fast enough. “What’s wrong? What happened?” I ask, reaching up to take his jacket off, and gasp. “What the hell happened? T, you’re bleeding.”
He grabs my hands to stop my movements. “Holly, it’s fine. I just tore a stitch during our little reunion here. Trust me, it was fucking worth it.”
“It’s not fine. You’re bleeding. Why do you have stitches anyway?” I’m staring at the red-stained shirt as I wait for him to answer. When he doesn’t, I look up and meet his eyes. His jaw is tensed and his lips are thinned out. “T, what happened? Why’d you need stitches? And don’t even think about lying to me.”
“I can’t tell you that, dolcezza. But it’s fine. I’m okay. You don’t need to worry.”
“Youcantell me; you just don’t want to.” My eyebrows draw down. “Do you not trust me?”
“Holly, I trust you more than anyone. You are my person—you know that.”
“Well, then tell me what the fuck happened!” I yell.
He takes a deep breath. “I caught a bullet in my shoulder on the way to the airport yesterday. It’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t want you to worry about me.” He tries to wrap his arms around my waist. I shake him off.
“You were shot? What the hell? Who the bloody hell shot you?”Now, I’m furious.I want to fly to Italy and shoot someone—see how much they like it. I also want to bloody castrate Theo for not telling me sooner. And for acting like this isn’t a big deal.
“Holly, calm down. I’m okay. I’m standing right in front of you. In one piece. Trust me, I came out better than the other guys.”
I huff, pulling the door open. “Follow me,” I throw over my shoulder. I know Zac keeps a first aid kit in his office and probably a spare shirt I can borrow.
“Lead the way. I’d follow you into the depths of hell, dolcezza.”
“Not the time to be cute, Theo Anthony Valentino.”
He mumbles something I don’t quite catch—not that I care to hear whatever it is he has to say at the moment. I stab my finger on the button that will lead us up to the offices. “Ah, Holly, where exactly are you taking me?”
“To Zac’s office. He has a first aid kit, and you need to do something about that shirt, before I take you back into the club to show off my insanely freaking hot husband to everyone.”
“Holly, I’m fine. I’ll get it looked at once we’re home.”
I choose to ignore him and step out of the lift. I know he’ll follow. When I reach the office door, I don’t even bother knocking. I swing it open. Thank God it’s unlocked. My steps falter when I’m met by Zac’s unimpressed glare. “Does no one in this family know how to fucking knock on a door?” he grumbles.
I can feel T tense up behind me. Before he can jump to my rescue and do something he can’t undo, I walk inside. “Hey. Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to be here, Zac. I won’t be long. I just need a first aid kit. Do you have one?” I use the sweetest voice I can muster.
Zac might try to come across like a grizzly bear, all claws and teeth. But deep down, I know he’s just a big, soft, cuddly teddy bear, who will do anything for his family. And somehow, I’ve managed to make it into his inner circle. He stands quickly and rounds his desk. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you, Holly?” Although he’s asking me, he’s looking directly at T.
“No, I’m fine. It’s not for me. Oh, and this is Theo. Myhusband,” I enunciate the last word and watch the momentary shock appear on Zac’s face.
