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“You don’t look atmi sorella,” Angel bites out.
“Oh,mon Dio.” Pulling free of Damon’s grip, I shove my brother. “Out! Out of my kitchen! You come in here, throwing yourself around and having your little fit. Messing up my work. I’ve had it, Angel. Go!” He stares at me, silent only a moment before his lips part. I hold up my hand, cutting him off. “You can’t ever leave well enough alone. Always have to have the last word.” My voice cracks—I hate this eternal fighting. It’s ceaseless. I’m so weary of it. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m done.”
I swipe angrily at my eyes. “Go, damn it!”
Angel pivots without another word and strides away. Damon doesn’t move. His heat at my back surrounds me when he brings his hands up once again to take my biceps in a firm grip. “That goes for you, too.” I sniff. “You’re just as bad, encouraging that macho nonsense.”
“You don’t mean that,” he says, tugging my back against his chest in an embrace that contradicts itself. I can feel the struggle in the tension of his grip, like he wants to hold me and push me away at the same time.
I can help him make that decision.
I pull away, trying desperately not to let loose the tears that crave freedom. I need to be alone. “I do mean it,” I say, turning around to face him. “This…you just made everything worse. I had it handled.”
He doesn’t reply immediately, simply traces his bottom lip with his forefinger and watches me with brooding eyes. Then he speaks. “If I tell you to do something,bella, I expect you to listen. I’m doing it for your own good. This wasn’t about you. You didn’t need to have it handled, not with me here to do that for you.”
I sputter. “You’re not the boss of me, Damon! You’re not my father! It’s not your place to do these things—” I break off, holding up a hand when his lips part on an argument. I don’t want to listen. I won’t. “I want you to go, Damon. I want you to leave me alone and for God’s sake—stay out of private family business in the future!”
With a finger that shakes only a little, I point at the door.
Damon’s eyelids hood his gaze, but not before I see something spark in the depths of his eyes. “I don’t think you mean that at all,bella.”
Merda.
Too late, I realize I’ve messed up. I stood my ground, had my say, and in doing so, I waved a red flag in a Pamplona bull’s line of sight.
I close my eyes briefly, finally allowing a single tear to track its way down my cheek.
This isn’t a fight I’m going to win.
CHAPTER FIVE
DAMON
I’veneverseenLucianafall apart.
Every petty act of violence by her mother, every careless word from her brother or father…they don’t faze her. She raises her head, and her gaze fills with a restrained defiance I had only ever seen before in mymadre. I admired that discipline, found myself wanting to nurture it, wanting to give Lulu the nourishment and strength she needs to become the Queen she is meant to be.
And yet, seeing this Queen finally break and cry makes me feel like a King.
I’ve caused that depth of pain inside her, and that knowledge fills me with a twisted thrill. Knowing I caused the tears shouldn’t elate me, but each tiny, pain-filled drop does exactly that. It thrills me that I’ve brought her to this point, so far from her norm.
She’s right that I should leave. I normally walk away from anything that could entwine me with Lulu, but today, I want to play with her a little. In my head, she is mine; she just doesn’t know it yet. But I’ve decided that no one will ever possess this woman—only me, and only when the time is right.
“I don’t think you want me to leave,bella.” I take a step toward her. Lulu’s cheeks are flushed, flour is sprinkled down the front of her dress, and a white mark on the side of her head has me reaching up and dusting the flour away. “You have flour in your hair,” I inform her.
She holds her breath at my closeness. Her head tilts to the side, her long neck begging for the brackets of my hands. My gaze moves upward, past that flawless flesh, and my gaze dips to her pouty lips. She’s normally careful, but today those lips fired off her every thought. How freeing it must be to speak your mind, consequences be damned. I’ll have to work on that. Lulu’s fiery nature is alluring but also concerning at times.
My hand leaves her hair, and my fingers trace a path through her tears. Her eyelids flutter closed, and she inhales a breath. “Damon.” The word is a plea.
I bring my fingers to my lips and taste salt. I taste her pain, and it’s so fucking sweet.
My cock is hard, unyielding against my trousers. The thought of having Lulu tortures me every night. I can picture fucking her across the flour-stained counter. Burying myself inside her sweet pussy… one I know that no man has yet to touch and never will.
She would be tight. I nearly groan at the thought of being her first, her only, and torment clenches my teeth against a groan.
Merda.She’s everything I never expected to want, everything I can’t have, every-fucking-thing that stands in the way of my purpose… and yet, I can’t stop feeling the way I do.
A strand of her hair moves as my breath fans out across her face. Fuck, I want her so bad. Since arriving here and seeing her courage, I’ve obsessed over Lulu Valachi without pause.
