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He grunts, not responding. I try to wiggle out of his hold, and he slaps me on the ass. It’s hard and stings. “I’ll kiss it better later,” he grumbles, still walking toward the house. He doesn’t seem out of breath or tired from carrying my weight.
He sets me down on the couch and stares at me. I’m not sure what he’s looking for. Heat creeps up my neck into my face, thinking I’ve embarrassed myself for blurting out an I love you. Romeo is not that type of guy. I’ve always known this. His silence is another reminder of it.
I don’t recognize my life anymore. How did one small thing like Alfonso telling me he can’t love me spiral into this?
I go to stand up, hating the weight of Romeo’s eyes on me, but he pushes me back down.
“I get it,” I grumble, refusing to look him in the eyes. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“Look at me, Gia.” He forcefully lifts my face with both hands. “You don’t fucking get it.”
He lets go of my face like it burns him. I will not cry in front of him. I won’t do it. I can’t embarrass myself more than I already have. “I forgot. I’m your prisoner, a means to an end. Don’t worry, my father will give you anything you want. I’m sure of it. All your dreams will come true once you hand me over.”
“Is that what you think of me?” He’s so angry-looking. Scary. “I wasn’t about to confess my love for you in front of your old lover. He does not get to be part of this with us. He gets no part of you. He lost that privilege. That privilege is now mine.” He brings my face back up, forcing me to look him in the eye. “I think I have always loved you. I tried like hell not to. But I do. I love you, and I’m not giving you back.”
“No one ever denies my father.”
“Until me.”
He looks so certain and determined. I want to believe him. No, I need to. Otherwise, what the hell are we doing? If we’re honest, I don’t deserve to be happy. Not after everything with my sister. Alfonso, who I thought was my soul mate, couldn’t even love me in the right way. Why would Romeo?
