Page 11 of Stolen Vows
“Do you trust him that much?Do you think he’ll believe you?”She trembles.Tears glisten in her eyes, but she doesn’t push me away.“I think if you did, you’d have told him about our tryst in the park, wouldn’t you?”I goad.
She swallows and scans the room, searching for an ally, but all eyes point toward the altar.I don’t even need the oversized bouquet to hide my advances, but with how heavy it is, she’s forced to hold it with both hands, which makes playing with her all the more fun.
“What do you want?”she whispers through gritted teeth.
“I want you to keep squirming.Keep fighting.Keep lying.After all, that’s what you do best, isn’t it,paperotta?”
She digs her elbow into my side and leans away from me, but the motion only settles her breast more firmly into my grip.I bite back a groan and pinch her hard nipple through her dress.Her small gasp arrows straight to my throbbing cock.
“Tell me you hate this,” I murmur against her temple.
She shifts her incredulous gaze to mine.With our faces less than an inch apart, I marvel at her delicate features and long lashes.
“Of course I hate this.You’re disgu—”
“Good girl.Such a pretty little liar.Lie to me again,” I mock.
“I’m not lying.I h—”
“Yes, you are.Your lips say one thing, but your body says another.”I roll her turgid nipple between my fingers and press my gun harder against her sex.
The flowers shift against my sleeve as she wrings her hands around the stem of the bouquet.She winces and aims bottomless blue orbs into my soul.
“Are you hurting me because you want me to scream?”Her words pierce me with shame, but I recall how well versed she is in schooling her expression and shove my guilt aside.She won’t fool me with her wounded, innocent act.“Is that your plan?”she accuses.A glint of hardness enters her eyes as she searches my stare.“A dead man can’t go to prison, so you’re using me to murder my father in front of all these people?”
With a stubborn tilt of her chin, she becomes the haughty princess I once adored.Bittersweet nostalgia bubbles up in me, but I shove it away with a cruel twist of my wrist, dragging the sight at the end of my muzzle over her sensitive, intimate flesh.
Her lashes dip in pain, but she returns my glare with one of her own.She hides her true feelings so easily.Sourness coats my tongue.
“I’ll never be your pawn,” she grits through her teeth.
Wicked mirth flows through me and tugs my lips into a smirk.
“Too late,paperotta.You’ve always been mine.Mine to hurt.Mine to punish.Mine to ruin.”I emphasize each short sentence with cruelty, nipping her ear, pinching her nipple, and grinding my gun over her clit as she sits helplessly in a room full of New York City’s most powerful people.
She flinches and swallows.Tears glisten in her eyes, but none fall as she blends her jagged breathing with the soft-hearted women who always cry at weddings.
“Nothing will save you or your father now,” I promise.
I grab the whole of her breast and plaster her to my side, reminding her how easily I can overpower her.
“So try everything, Valentina.I look forward to watching you squirm,” I taunt with one final squeeze.
As the congregation rises and cheers for the kissing newlyweds, I leave my prey dazed and mindlessly standing to blend into the crowd as I slip into the aisle and exit like the ghost I claimed to be.
Only the ushers standing along the wall acknowledge me with small dips of their heads as I stride through the ornate double doors.
I turn into the employees only hall and continue through to the security room.The guards, even the Russo spy in Bonnetti territory who knows I’m aware of his infiltration, give me respectful nods and accept my presence without a second thought.
It’s easy to be no one when you’re powerful enough to scare off the peons without challenging the ruthless.
As the bride and groom lead the wedding procession to the reception party, I watch Valentina smile her way to Romeo’s side.When she slips her hand into the crook of his elbow, white-hot jealousy roars through me.Her delicious scent clings to my clothes despite the cloying perfume of the flowers.
I console myself with the memory of her flush and gasps.Anticipation clears away the last of my envy.I’ll enjoy ripping her away from him when she’s at her most desperate.
Her shoulders stiffen and wariness blips through her expression, but she brightens her smile and tugs her betrothed toward her father.After exchanging a few words, the men pass Valentina between them like a prized trophy, as though afraid she’ll break into a million tiny pieces if she isn’t hanging off a man’s arm.I scoff and lean against the wall until Pietro detours towards the small sitting nooks.
Something in the set of Valentina’s shoulders shifts my senses into high alert.I push the guard aside, his chair rolling on well-greased wheels, snatch the headphones off his head, and brace my palm on the desk as I lean toward the screen.
