Page 12 of Saint Valentine

My fingers twitched, my body coiled, instinct begging me to retaliate. To remind her who she was dealing with.

Slowly, I turned my head back to her.

She stood there, chest rising and falling, eyes locked onto mine. There was no fear. No regret.

Just a challenge.

She didn’t fear me like she should have. I'd have to correct that.

I grabbed her, slamming her back against the wall, my hand wrapping around her throat, keeping her in place.

She braced herself like she fully expected me to hit her back.

I would never. She'd taught me that hitting the ones you cared for makes you weak.

“Don’t hit me again, Aria. It’s not nice. This will be the first and last time you do it, or there’ll be consequences,” I growled. I wouldn’t hit her in anger, but I’d spank her ass. I imagined the recoil would be beautiful.

Her reaction was to scream in my face, her anger raw and unapologetic. “I hate you!”

I leaned in, watching her pulse race as my fingers traced the curve of her jaw.

“One day, you’ll eat those words, Aria. I’m going to make you crave me the way I crave you. And when you’re so deep in it, so fucking addicted to me, you won’t be able to breathe without me, without my touch. And when I control every inch of you—your body, your mind, your soul—I’ll make you beg for what you need, and I’ll deny you just to watch you unravel. Then I’ll remind you of this moment—the moment you looked me in the eye and told me you hated me. And I hope it hurts you as much as it does me.”

I dragged my hand down her body, slow and deliberate, letting my fingertips trail over her skin, soaking in the heat of her like I had all the time in the world.

A shiver rolled through her. I felt goosebumps erupt along her arms, her muscles tensed beneath my touch. Her pupils blew wide, dark and dazed, and when her lips parted just slightly—like she was forgetting to breathe—I knew I had her.

The fight was still there, but there was something else too—something I could sink my teeth into. That’s all I needed. I’d make her body betray her first; then the rest would follow.

I roughly let her go, stepping back, watching her stumble slightly as she tried to regain her balance.

“I have to talk to your soon-to-be father-in-law,” I said, my voice casual now, as if nothing had happened. “You should shower. We have planning to do.”

I made my way to the door, leaving her standing there. All the way across the room, I could feel the rage radiating off of her. I didn’t care. I had her now, and there was nothing she could do about it.

I closed the door behind me, not bothering to lock it.

I headed toward my father’s house on the compound, taking the golf cart. I’d wanted to leave my father’s house when I was old enough, but he had shut that idea down. This was the alternative.

When I arrived at the house, I could feel the tension thick in the air. My father, Donato Valentine, was already waiting for me at the front door, his face twisted in anger. He didn’t even let me pass the threshold before he flipped.

“What the fuck are the people I told you to kill doing living in the guest house, being treated like fucking kings and queens?” he demanded, his voice seething with fury.

“It was your future daughter-in-law’s wedding gift,” I replied.

“What the fuck are you talking about, daughter-in-law?” he snarled, his eyes narrowing like a predator sizing up its prey. I knew—I knew—he was holding himself back from getting physical. Not because it wasn’t something he’d do anymore, but because I’d made him stop laying hands on me a long time ago. I had taken Drake's advice and broke his ribs.The bullet hole in his shoulder also worked as a reminder that hitting me wasn’t wise.

“I’m marrying Drake Heart’s daughter. She’s a friend of theirs and asked me not to kill them. I left out the part where I’d traded their lives for her hand in marriage.”

“The Drake Heart I had killed?” he said in disbelief.

I nodded. “Yes.”

His eyes widened. “The little bitch who gave you a gun and told you to shoot me?”

I had indeed shot him. A few nights after I’d given Aria the ring, he’d been boasting about how he killed her father, and something inside me broke. He was the reason I would never see her again, the reason that all the bad happened in my life. What if he wanted her dead too? I had to protect her like she’d protected me.

I pulled out the gun I’d been carrying in my hoodie for days, pointed it straight at his chest like he had shown me at the range. But he saw me; he moved too quickly. The beating that followed was brutal. He laughed the entire time like he enjoyed it. But I wasn’t afraid of him anymore after that. Seeing him bleed made me realize he wasn’t invincible.

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