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She gasps, and the breathy sound makes me harder. By her hypersensitive response to my touch, I’m certain she’s still a virgin. Most girls are ready for the contact, almost eager, but Silvia seems lost as she tries to make sense of her body’s response.
She sobs. Shoulders hunching, her body suddenly feels frail in my arms. And a ball of lead drops in my stomach as she starts to cry. I fucking hate it. While I didn’t mind pissing off the little princess–I might have enjoyed it, even–I’m surprised to realize how little I like making her cry. I cringe instinctively, my hard-on softening slightly.
While the thought of fucking her in front of everyone had seemed pretty goddamn hot, I don’t think I could enjoy it while she’s crying.
She trembles against me, her terror mixing with her tears in a potent defensive cocktail. It intensifies my conflict, making the muscles in my jaw tighten. I struggle to keep my composure, to finish punishing her. I can’t back down. After having her brothers rough me up, I need to show strength, not mercy. I need to claim my territory and make Silvia understand that she can’t go running to her brothers for protection. Not anymore.
“Are you crying?” I mock, groping her breast as my other hand glides over her hip toward the peak between her thighs. “What, don’t you like performing your wifely duty to satisfy me?”
Her fingers still grip my wrists, but all the fight seems to have drained from Silvia. Instead, she shudders violently. Her knees buckle, and she sags against me, relying on my arms to hold her up. My hand halts its progress, my embrace suddenly transforming into a supportive one. I can’t do it. I can’t push her any further.
“I’ll tell you what,” I breathe, keeping my cheek pressed to her silken one, “I’ll let you off the hook this time, but if you ever send you brothers after me again, I’ll fuck you in front of the whole school. Got it?”
She nods frantically, her sobs echoing through the vaulted room. Disgust constricts my throat. And though I know it’s directed inward, I use the emotion to drive me to the finish line.
“Good,” I rasp. I release her, withdrawing my hand from her dress at the same time.
Silvia jerks away from me, collapsing on the table as she looks up at me with watery eyes. Tears track down her rosy cheeks and drip onto the satiny skin of her chest. Her dress sits askew, her breast almost falling out over the fabric in a tantalizing show, and I can’t help myself. My eyes drop to appreciate the view.
Silvia’s cheeks color to a deep crimson as she straightens the floral fabric.
Plastering a smug grin on my lips, I chuck her lightly under the chin. “Thanks for the teaser,” I say and stalk from the library before she can say a word.
Eyes follow me the entire way, and I keep my shoulders back, my chin raised defiantly. Only after I’ve exited the building, striding down the stone steps, do I let my mask drop. Revolution roils in my belly.
I might have won a victory today, made a strong move on the chessboard. But I’ve done considerable damage to the relationship Silvia and I will have to endure for the rest of our lives. Cold, distant, separate, I could handle that. Pretending she doesn’t exist.
But I’ve just introduced resentment. Something that will only grow and fester over time. I know it was necessary to make the Marchettis understand they can’t just walk all over our family. We’ve left our necks exposed too much already, and Nicolo needs to know that he can’t just change the rules of the game at a whim.
7
SILVIA
Dumbstruck, I watch Pyotr leave, his posture cocky, his stride confident, seeming perfectly at ease. Meanwhile, I can hardly breathe; I’m in such turmoil.
My body responded to his touch with shocking eagerness, heat gathering between my thighs. It embarrassed me to realize how much I enjoyed his hands on me. The feel of his lips and breath next to my ear. He spoke such vindictive words almost like a lover would, soft and intimate.
I’m mortified that he would make such a public display.He wouldn’t actually force himself on me while everyone watched, would he?I shudder at the possibility. But now I have to consider it.
As soon as he disappears, the eyes that had followed him turn toward me in disturbing synchronicity. No one moves to intervene in any way. Not that I would expect anyone to help me. Someone might take pity on me if I weren’t who I am and Pyotr weren’t who he is. But with our family ties, I’m sure everyone’s afraid to get in the middle. I’m on my own.
Snatching my book up from the table and collecting my bag from the door, I flee. I don’t even bother packing. All I want is to hide from the scrutinizing, condemning looks directed my way.
My footsteps echo across the dark marble as I clutch my book to my chest, head ducked to avoid eye contact. The complete opposite of Pyotr’s cool exit. Once I’m through the door and out on the library’s front steps, I duck behind one of the beautiful building’s wide pillars. I press my back against the warm concrete, letting my head fall back to rest against it.
When I close my eyes, Pyotr’s mocking smile is all I see.
Try as I might, I can’t get my breathing under control. The tears keep coming, and I brush them away in frustration. Hugging my book tightly, I squeeze comfort from its firm binding and solid cover.
The library has always felt somewhat like a sanctuary for me, a safe haven where I could go to escape reality. To delve into one of the many fantasy worlds I enjoy. And it feels as though Pyotr has torn through the warm, inviting walls of protection, destroying my place of peace.
Forcing myself to take deep breaths, I pull my phone out of my bag. My finger hovers over Nico’s name before I pause. It could be risky calling him. If he chooses to do something about what happened, things could get a whole lot worse. After all, it’s what got me into this mess in the first place.
But I can’t seem to stop the violent shudders racking my body. I need my brother.
I tap the button and raise my phone to my ear.
“Hey, Scout,” Nico says warmly, using his childhood nickname for me. He used to tease me about being such a Girl Scout, and after years of ribbing, the name stuck.
