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“I will kill you and enjoy every second, if you don’t stop this,” she whisper-snarls.
My face lowers to hers, and goose bumps spread over her arms. Her sweet, delicate scent, a mix of floral and fruit, intoxicates my senses. “Looking forward to you trying.”
A few moments ago, I was bored out of my mind, but now my entire body buzzes. This is why I ended up accepting an arranged marriage and agreed to this union. For her. If she only knew.
“You should heed my warning.”
“Anything else?” I cock an eyebrow, one side of my mouth quirking up in a smirk.
I let my eyes take a slow perusal of her body. Her breath hitches, her nipples harden. I can’t wait to feast on them, see what color they are. Rosy like her cheeks? She crosses her arms over her chest, pinning me with a murderous look. Fuck if I’m not hard.
“Cato, Chiara, join us,” her father says, interrupting our blatant standoff.
She storms away. I stare, ensnared by her ass, and what a fine ass it is, all round and perky. My dick twitches in my slacks.
“She’s . . .” my brother starts with awe.
Breathtaking. Beautiful. I feel possessive already. I’ll lose my shit if anyone else even dares to look at her.
“Fuckable as fuck,” my cousin whistles low.
In a flash, I wrap my hand around his neck, squeezing. He raises his hands and says through a gurgle, “And you’ll be the first to tap that.”
I release him and point my finger at both of them. “You are expendable, so keep that shit up if you want to die. You’re my pawns; she’ll be my queen.”
They both retreat with nods.
I am already unbalanced, and I don’t fucking need more ammunition to go off.
Chiara’s huddled in a corner with her sister and both of our mothers. A vein pulses in her neck, her entire posture fighting for composure. I got myself a little spitfire. I will love winning the challenge she represents.
I turn my attention to my father and soon-to-be father-in-law. It’s back to business. No reprieve.
“Cato, son. It’s remarkable that you have been able to lead a syndicate and take care of our family business, but you have to decide, or I might question your loyalty to theFamiglia,” Domenico says.
I step in his personal space and roll my sleeve up to my elbow, revealing my tattoo. It bears a crest of two swords thrust in a crown. I got it so both my father and Domenico will stop nagging me. I will wear this tattoo like I wear my other one. On my skin, in my heart, for life.
“You question my loyalty, but you would not die, bleed, and fight at my side, would you? I have gained more power than you two together have ever reached. Never fucking question me again. TheFamigliaand the syndicate are in my blood, on my skin. And I can take care of both just fine.”
I fought for my title, King of the Underworld, uniting my two lives, my two purposes.
***
Chiara stares at me across the table set in porcelain and silver. I hold her gaze until she drops her eyes. There is a time and a place to challenge me, but if she wants a fight, I will fight dirty and end up ruining her. It’s her decision how she wants this to go. I can offer her a life she finds comfortable or one that’s nothing but a prison. And they say I am a monster. Do monsters offer alternatives?
“Will you continue your studies?”
Chiara eyes my mother as if she has two heads.
“I didn’t think . . . I . . .” she stammers, and it bothers me.
“If you behave, I don’t see a reason you wouldn’t do what you want to.” A peace offering, I hope will appease her.
“In exchange for what, exactly?” she asks through gritted teeth. There it is again, that burst of rebellion, the spark of keen intelligence. Her father says her name, filled with warning and annoyance.
“She is not your problem anymore,” I deadpan, keeping my eyes on her.
The fucking fool has no idea how to deal with his daughter, but I just might, and it will be so much fun making her all mine. I’ve been patient. The desire has been churning in my core, and with her so near, it tests me like nothing else—to take, consume, own. I can’t keep my eyes off her. She keeps stealing glances at me too, and every time I catch her, her brows furrow in irritation. It takes all my willpower to keep from smiling.
