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It seemed to please him that Luca messed up my size. Mr. Perfect was always right about everything. He made sure of it because there was no room for error in his carefully curated world.
“Turn around,” Marcello instructed.
I spun around to face him, and he moved his hand to my waist, fingers digging into my hip. His eyes traced up and down my body, settling on my breasts, which spilled out from the tight top. My heart raced as he stared at my lips, eventually looking into my eyes. Every inch of my skin was on fire, tingling with desire.
Marcello’s cell phone beeped. His fingers flew across the keys, one message coming in after another. Then he took a few steps back from me and raised the phone to snap a few pictures.
“Are you planning to jerk off to that later?”
He ignored me and hit send.
“Get dressed,” he said on his way out of the room. “We’re leaving.”
Alexandrea Wellington turned me into a fucking psychopath. Beneath all of our hatred, there was a burning desire inside both of us. The first time I saw her, I wanted to wrap my fingers around her throat and choke the fucking life out of her.
Even as a child, I knew I wasn’t normal. But I had one good thing in my life—my mother. She was a famous painter. The most incredible woman to grace this shithole planet.
Alex’s family had taken everything from me.
My mother.
My soul.
My humanity.
If we didn’t need an heir from the Wellington bloodline, I would have killed her years ago. She wasn’t responsible for her family’s actions, but that didn’t make me hate her any less.
Hate was a powerful emotion.
I wielded it like a weapon, used it against her whenever I got the itch to touch her. To fuck her. I was incapable of intimacy or any real feelings. Hate, anger, and lust, I understood perfectly. Blood and destruction tainted my entire world, but with Alex, I wanted to feel something.
Anything to feel alive.
She was the first and only woman I ever kissed. It was too personal, too intimate. I hated when women tried to run their fingers down my skin, press their lips to mine. The idea made me sick to my stomach.
I kissed Alex once and hated it. Except I didn’t, not really.
I just hated her.
And her family.
Phone in hand, I leaned back in the leather chair. My cock was like a steel rod thinking about Alex, dreaming about fucking her tight pussy. I couldn’t even focus on the meeting. The men in the room spoke to me, and I just waved them off, continued texting my brother.
Years ago, I’d almost dismissed Alex as another pretty face. Our families had introduced us, and I knew she was the woman I would marry. Her grandfather had given her the choice between my brothers and me—but I was winning this competition.
My brothers didn’t have shit on me. I was the oldest, the smartest, the most ruthless. None of them stood a chance when I set my mind to a goal.
Alex was beautiful and damaged. I liked broken things, and I wanted to break her some more.
Like calls to like.
My enemies had gotten to Alex a few weeks ago. Thankfully, Marcello had intercepted the threat before she noticed someone was following her home. If my brother wasn’t good at his job, Alex would have been around the world by now—another casualty of human traffickers.
I thought she was safer away from Devil’s Creek. My business often overflowed into my personal life, but none of that mattered until the Russians discovered my obsession with Alex.
I typed a quick message to Marcello.
Luca:Don’t let her out of your sight.
