Page 3 of Ruthless Sinner

are for a dance?”

If I wasn’t wearing someone’s foul combination of backwash whiskey and pineapple, I might say yes. If it wasn’t after midnight and my fairytale twenty-first birthday wasn’t coming to an end soon, I might be more inclined to give him a chance. If it wasn’t for Ruggero’s brow carved into worry, I might let the handsome man in a suit sweep me off my feet.

Instead, I dance with my emotions for a moment and let my face light up with hope and possibility before taking a verbal swing. “Fuck off, Suit and Tie,” I reply before pushing past him.

Back at the bar, Ruggero and Annaliese rush forward to ask if I’m okay. “One minute, we were dancing; the next, you were running to the bathroom.” Anna’s eyes widen with concern.

“Was that man bothering you?” Ruggero glares.

I cast a glance back at Mr. Tall, Dark, and Entirely Too Handsome For His Own Good. He catches me staring and waves with a far too cocky smile on his lips. “Who does he think he is?” I grumble. “I bet he thinks he can get any girl in this bar.”

Ruggero’s chest swells with rage, and he lunges forward, but I stop him with a hand on the shoulder. “Let me talk to him.” His glare deepens, and jealousy is written in cursive across his features. “He can’t look at girls like that, Ada.”

“I’ll talk to him,” I decide. I’m the only one I can trust to take care of my problems. I don’t care if he thinks he’s big and scary; I’ve faced off against worse.

“You sure?” Ruggero asks, his face twisting with a tiny hint of relief.

I smile because I love my best friend, but he’s never been the confrontational type. This is probably for the best. “I’m sure. Let me handle this. You guys get another shot, so when I get back, I can forget this ever happened.”

Ruggero’s lips press against my forehead possessively, leaving behind a faint lingering warmth. He shoots the stranger another steely glare before obediently following orders. My best friend is like a loyal golden retriever, always by my side and willing to do whatever it takes to protect me. I love that about him, but he won’t be the one who saves me from my father’s relentless imprisonment—he’s just a handsome distraction.

I mentally prepare myself before approaching the attractive man. “You’re pissing off my friends.”

The man’s lips curl into a sly, almost mocking smile, showing off a set of perfect white teeth. “I don’t care about them, baby.”

That pisses me off, too. “I’m not your baby.”

“No,” he allows as he takes a step forward. He’s so quick that I don’t have a chance to back away before he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me in close. “But I’d like you to be.”

He smells like luxury. The crisp, clean smell of freshly laundered clothes mingled with the rich, earthy notes of wood and a subtle hint of musk. “I’m spoken for, baby,” I reply condescendingly.

The man has the audacity to snort. “You’re telling me that big oaf by the bar is your boyfriend?”

That’s not exactly what I meant. I’m spoken for by someone far scarier than Ruggero and this man combined. My father holds me captive in his home and has me beaten at least once a week for his pleasure. He would rather see me dead at his feet than in the hands of another man.

“Not quite,” I reply. “Someone bigger and badder, I’m afraid.”

“I bet you are,” he chuckles under his breath.

It sends an electrifying jolt of desire and lust down my spine, catching me off guard with its intensity. My body responds with a primal urge, almost overwhelming in its force. “Who are you?”

He leans down to whisper in my ear, “The biggest mistake you’ll ever make.”

I try to pull away, but his grip is too tight. “Let me go.”

“Not until you dance with me.” He pulls me with him, dragging me up the stairs of the dance floor and swaying with me in his arms. “Dance, cara mia, I know you can move your hips.”

Cara mia. My darling.

He’s Italian. I wonder if he knows my father.

But wonder goes out the window when he brings his lips to the base of my collarbone and drags his teeth along the skin. “Stop fighting, gorgeous. Let me take care of you.”

His words make me weak in the knees. How many times have I dreamt of someone saying precisely that? How many nights have I laid in bed waiting for a savior?

This handsome man looks too delicate to take on the big bad wolf waiting for me at home. He doesn’t look strong enough to steal me from the shadows of my father’s vengeance.

But maybe he can help me forget it for just one night.

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