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His vow adds the weight of the world onto the diamond now nestled snugly onto the ring finger of my left hand.
Mine.
The word reverberates within the cavity of my chest.
“Mine,” I echo the sentiment, tasting the word on my tongue. “Does that make you mine, too?” I look up at him, refusing to cower under the violent possessiveness in his eyes.
Yesterday, Vincent and I were strangers.
Two individuals who may have brushed shoulders at family celebrations a time or two.
Today, we are engaged.
In mere days, we will be wed.
We will belong to one another under an oath of God and a promise of sacrifice.
“Hm.” His bottom lip tips out. “You can’t own a monster,dolcezza. It may seem that way because they’re always with you. Close enough to haunt you. In here”—he draws a love heart in the very center of my chest—“in here”—he runs a finger down my temple—“down here”—his finger moves between my breasts, tracking down my stomach but stopping just before he reaches my apex. “But it’s important to remember you belong to your monster, not the other way around.”
“I’m not a possession.”
He lifts a shoulder. “What is a wife if not the property of her husband?”
I move to yank my hand away, but he holds it steady in his grasp.
“Equals,” I spit.
He laughs, a bitter and resentful sound that flushes my cheeks with embarrassment. “Trust me, Bianca. You don’t want to be my equal. That would mean dancing with the devil, and you’re too pure for that.”
My chest heaves with angered breaths.
“This”—he lifts my hand, forcing me to look at the diamond he‘s now cursed me with—“puts you under my protection. Do you understand that?”
“Seems the only person I need protecting from is you.”
He kisses the ring, his lips not made of steel like I’d hoped, more the texture of how I imagine a cloud, billowy and accommodating. “Bianca, do not test me on this. You wear this ring like goddamn fucking armor, do you understand?”
I yank my hand away, but he pulls me in closer, his free hand grabbing my jaw. “Tell me you understand.”
I swallow. “I understand.”
His lips touch mine, and my mouth opens in shock, the gentleness of the kiss a stark contrast to the cruel grip he has on my jaw.
He pulls away, dropping my hand and taking a step backward.
“Two days,dolcezza. I have business to attend to in the meantime. Pack your bags; you will move into my home following our nuptials.”
four
“Hey, girl.”
I close the door behind me, turning the sign over in the window to read closed to the outside world.
The salon is empty, the majority of the space cast in darkness, but we plan it that way. Scheduling me for the last available appointment ensures the other stylists are finished with their day and ready to head home.
“Hey, Trix.” I kiss her cheek.
Andre, my driver, waits in the car. He sits there comfortably for the few hours Trixie and I spend talking crap. He’s never complained, but then, he doesn’t get paid to gripe.
