Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 43928 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43928 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
It's too late for that now.
It's far, far too late.
But I can't even tell Mattia that. My mom means nothing to him. Neither do I. His loyalty is to my brothers. My mom and I are acceptable casualties. Just like always when men like this make war.
"Why were you with Brio, cara mia?" Mattia asks, his hand drifting down my arm again. "Talk to me. I can help you."
I flick my gaze up to his, searching his expression in the passing lights, not sure what I'm looking for. Some hint of what he wants from me, perhaps. Some hint of who he is or why he looks at me the way he does. I don't know. He's a mystery—a dangerous man loyal to my brothers.
One who makes my blood sing.
He's so damn beautiful. His gaze is soft, but there's steel underneath. Those gray eyes hold secrets I can't begin to fathom…but part of me wants to learn each and every one of them anyway.
His dark hair is shot through with strands of gray that soften him, even though there is nothing soft about him. There's a cold ferocity about him that's captivating. He's deadly and demanding, used to being obeyed without question. He knows how to wield power and command respect without saying a word.
But can I trust him? Should I?
"I don't want your help," I finally mutter, not sure who I'm trying to convince—him or myself.
His only response is a smile. His eyes never leave mine. His gaze is like being trapped in quicksand—the more I struggle, the deeper I sink. It's a mystery how he can be so enthralling and threatening at the same time.
"You'll change your mind, topolina," he murmurs, finally pulling his gaze from mine.
The way he says it—so cool and confident, as if he doesn't doubt himself at all, sends a shiver through me.
What does he know that I don't?
Half an hour later, I find out.
Coda pulls up outside of a small mansion on the opposite side of the city from Brio's and parks. I stare up at the dark stone facade, trembling. Brio's mansion was designed with beauty in mind. Not this one.
The dark stone is weathered and rough, giving it a sinister appearance. Curtains are pulled shut over the tall windows as if to keep the outside world at bay, but lights flicker within, casting eerie shadows on the marble steps leading up to the entrance. It's quiet and old, as enigmatic as the man who carried me out of Brio's.
"Welcome home, principessa," he murmurs, sliding from the SUV with me still in his arms.
The way the words slip from his lips like a promise sends a shiver through me.
"This isn't my home, Mattia," I say, hating the way my voice shakes.
"It is for now."
I glower at him…only to get sidetracked by the stately, older man standing in the shadows of the entrance, his hands shoved in his pockets.
"It's not too late to change your mind," Coda mutters, climbing from the SUV.
Mattia grunts in response before striding straight toward the man waiting on the steps.
"I can walk."
"Good to know." He tightens his grip on me before his voice hardens. "Abernathy, I hope you weren't waiting long."
"Just arrived, Agostino," the older man says, his gaze drifting over me before he glances back at Mattia, wary. "Passero said this was urgent."
"Yes. The wedding can't wait."
I go rigid in Mattia's arms, my heart slamming against my ribcage. He can't be serious.
"I'm not marrying you," I hiss at him.
He flicks a look down at me, his steely eyes unfathomable. "My bride finds herself in need of urgent protection. If she doesn't take my name, she might not survive."
My soul quivers in terror as I stare up at him, our gazes tangled in a silent battle of wills.
Is he threatening to kill me if I don't marry him? Would he do it? Is he really capable of that kind of cruelty?
I don't know. I think he's a complicated man capable of incredible cruelty if pushed into it. But I don't think he'd hurt me. I'm not sure what makes me so certain. Call it instinct or intuition or pure madness, perhaps. But I see the truth lingering deep in his eyes. I feel it deep in my stomach. He wouldn't hurt me.
He…likes me.
The anger I've been clinging to since he drugged me begins to slip away. For the first time all night, I let myself imagine what it would be like to be his—what it'd feel like to have his lips on mine and his hands on my body. To feel his weight on top of me. To be his in every sense of the word.
Desire bubbles up hard and fast, sweeping through me like a hurricane. It strikes like lightning deep in my core, melting resistance, turning me weak and needy.