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“Fuck off, Lorenzo.”
“If you were one of my men, I’d—" I started.
“You’d what? Just remember something, Ricci, I’m not one of your men. I won’t bow down to you. I won’t be your loyal fucking servant either. A piece of paper bounding our lives together means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me.”
“You will be mine. Mine to do whatever the fuck I want with. If I want you to bow down to me, you will. If I want you to wait on me hand and foot, you will. If I want to fuck you, I will.” I towered over her petite frame as I pressed her against the wall once again.
“I would rather die a virgin than fuck you.” Her knee swiftly collided with my crotch, causing me to let go of her wrist long enough for her to hurry back towards the house.
That’s what you think, Miss Fedorov.
I’ll fucking break you piece by piece.
You’ll soon realise who you belong to.
I triedto calm the murderous look on my face before entering the lounge where our parents were residing. The darkness hid me from them as I paused at the double doors. The two families were laughing and joking with one another. My father had his hand on the small of my mother’s back. A smile split his lips as he focused on her; a smile only reserved for her. Carmella and Franco had adoration in their eyes; I could tell they also loved one another deeply. My mother told me it was love at first sight with my father. She embraced the world he lived in; she accepted him for who he was. I guess it’s true what they say… if you really love someone, you’ll accept the good, the bad, and the ugly. My father had many flaws, but that never put my mother off. She worshipped the ground he walked on as he did with her.
Miles directed his gaze to where I was stood, but soon turned away, not noticing my silhouette. He knocked back the last of his drink before pouring another one. He hated this just as much as I did, hated his sister having to marry someone she didn’t want to marry. Hated the fact I was marrying someone he grew up alongside. He tried voicing out his concerns, but in vain.
“We’ll never have that, you know?” Lorenzo appeared behind me as I continued watching my parents. My father’s deep silver eyes were still fixated on my mother.
“I don’t want that with you, or with anyone for that matter.” I shuddered a little from the chilly evening air.
Lorenzo pressed his body up against mine, leaning down so his lips brushed my ear.
“Am I not good enough for you, princess? You want a knight in shining armour, a prince perhaps?” The warmth of his breath raised goosebumps on my skin, but in a different way to before.
“I’ve never been one to play dress up.” Taking a step forward, I put a little distance between us.
Holding the handle, I chanced a glance over my shoulder. Lorenzo had the cockiest smirk I’d ever seen; he was handsome, I’d give him that. His caramel eyes darkened as they met mine. His jet-black hair was tousled and pushed back in a minimal way, with strands falling onto his forehead. A deep scar ran across his cheekbone completed his rugged look. “You didn’t show me the garden.” He raised his thick, dark brow and laughed a sarcastic laugh.
“I don’t need to show you anything. I just want to get this shit show over with.” I pushed the handle down and strode inside. Five pairs of eyes fell on me.
“That was quick, flower.” My father’s inquisitive gaze settled on me.
“It’s a little too dark for Lorenzo to see anything, so maybe some other time.” I smiled sweetly as my brother’s eyes fell onto my wrist that now had a faint red mark. “If you’ll excuse me, I just need to nip upstairs for a moment.”
“Anastacia, is everything okay?” Miles jumped up from the armchair in the corner, his face full of concern.
“I’m fine.” I smiled, although I was anything but. “I’ll be back shortly; I just feel a little under the weather.” I gripped my wrist tightly between my delicate fingers and turned on my heel.
As I hurried through the dining room, I could feel their questioning stares following me intently. I fought back the tears; I wouldn’t give Lorenzo fucking Ricci the satisfaction. He’d probably get off on it.
“Wait, why don’t I walk you upstairs?” Lorenzo called from behind my father. “Since you’re feeling under the weather, it would be a good idea to have someone accompany you, to make sure you’re okay.”
“That’s a great idea. Thank you, Lorenzo. Please hurry back. We have plenty to discuss.” My father stepped aside as Lorenzo passed him before making his way over to where I waited.
Why did I wait? God only knew.
He placed his large hand on the small of my back as he guided me out of the lounge and up the grand staircase. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at his smug, scarred face.
“That was some little show you put on in there,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I don’t have a clue what you’re going on about.” I knew I was playing with fire, but did I care? No, I didn’t. “I was trying to get away from our families so they wouldn’t see the lovely bruise forming on my wrist!” I snapped as I pushed his hand off and stormed up the stairs.
I had only just rounded the top of the stairs to the hallway when Lorenzo caught up with me, his one stride matching my two. I felt as if the breath had been ripped from my lungs as he slammed my body against the wall behind me, the photographs rattled on their fixing as he caged me in. His six-foot-four body easily towered over my much smaller five-foot-five frame. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t manage to free myself from his clutches. A triumphant chuckle escaped from his carved lips.
“I don’t like playing games, Anastacia.” The way my name spilled from his tongue like acid was enough for me to know I was in trouble. “You seem to enjoy it though.” The warmth of his breath brushed my earlobe as he bent his head lower.
