Page 17 of Vow to Corrupt You
I gesture to my men, indicating for them to escort Lorenzo to one of my waiting cars.
I seize her hand and lead her to another of my vehicles. “Get in,” I command, and she obeys without hesitation. I walk around the car and slide in beside her. Speaking to my driver in Greek, knowing she can’t understand, I issue my instructions, and we drive off.
The cityscape blurs by until we pull up in front of a building on Via Carini Street. Remo quickly hops out of the front passenger seat, opens the door for Serena, and escorts her inside the tattoo shop owned by my old associate, Mattia. The shop was already closed, but Mattia came here at my request.
Inside the shop, various tattoo designs hang on the walls, and Mattia is already preparing the equipment. Mattia himself looks like a work of art. His hands are heavily inked with intricate designs, his brown hair reaching down to his shoulders, tied back in a half-bun as always.
Serena looks around, her glare darting from the setup over to me. I stand by the door, blocking any thought of escape. She inhales deeply, trying to steady her rapid pulse.
“What’s going on?”
My head cocks slightly. “I’m going to mark you permanently,” I state coolly. “Unlike the ring I gave you, this is something you won’t be able to take off.”
“You can’t be serious.” Her pupils dilate to such an extent, her eyes resemble deep pools of darkness. “This is insane.”
“You agreed to do whatever I want,” I remind her with pure satisfaction. “I tried to go easy on you, but you chose to make things hard.”
Her panic gives way to anger as she reluctantly takes a seat in the tattoo chair. Mattia glances at me as if seeking confirmation, and I give him a single nod. He begins his work at her neck, and the tattoo machine buzzes through the room. Serena winces as the needle touches her skin, starting to etch my name onto the skin above her collarbone.
I approach my dear fiancée, who slides off the chair after the work is done. I brush her hair away from her neck as my fingers slowly trail over the fresh ink. Deliberately, I trace the letters of my name inked on her soft, tan skin.
“Now, any man who sees this will know you belong to me.” I raise my gaze to meet hers. It’s blazing with hatred. “They won’t even dare to speak to you.”
Her anger must’ve reached its boiling point because, before I can react, she spits in my face.
The room falls silent. The shock ripples through Mattia and Remo. As if in sync, they both avert their gazes, fearing the eruption of my wrath.
I wipe her saliva from my cheek with the back of my hand, my jaw tight with controlled fury. My hand tightens around her neck as I pull her closer, without choking her, and press my lips forcefully against hers. Her body stiffens with fear at first before she tries to push me away, but I only kiss her deeper. Rough and demanding, my tongue shoving in her mouth, finding hers. I graze her bottom lip between my teeth as I pull away, causing her to grunt.
“You’re sick,” she seethes, her voice trembling with barely suppressed rage.
“Now you know,” I chuckle softly. “Now you’ll remember you belong to me.”
“I am not your toy,” she snaps back. I dig the way she fights back, that fire in her eyes daring me. Not many have the guts for it.
Her defiance is like a drug—it gets under my skin and makes me crave her more. It’s a twisted play we’re in, but fuck if it doesn’t light a fire in me. Her strength, her refusal to back down, it’s a turn-on in the darkest way possible.
“You’re not a toy, wicked one. You’ve proven that,” I murmur, my gaze lingering on her. “But you’re mine to play with, nonetheless.”
CHAPTER 9
Serena
I storm inside the house, tears streaming down my face. The noise of Nikos’s convoy driving me here must’ve woken my parents because they stumble out of their room, both as startled as concerned.
“What happened, Serena?” Papà asks, but I don’t respond.
Instead, I run through the hallway and straight to my room. My fortress. My shelter. My parents’ calls fading behind me. I slam the door shut, locking it with trembling hands. I don’t want to see or talk to anyone. Not now, when I feel like a head of cattle that’s been branded with a tattoo to mark ownership.
I sink to the floor, covering my face with my hands and letting the tears flow freely again. My skin burns where the ink has settled. I’m nothing more than Nikos’s property now. Robbed of my own identity, of any will. My own body isn’t even mine anymore. I never even wanted a tattoo. The pain was unbearable. It was as if each agonizing needle pierce carved my loathing for him deeper into my flesh until it finally reached my very core. I’ve never been a fan of adorning my body with something so permanent, something that stays forever. I always thought that if I ever got a tattoo, it would be something meaningful, something deeply personal. Most certainly, not the name of a man I despise. But now, I have to wear his name inked on my skin like a constant display of his dominance over me. It’s so inhumane what he did to me. He is inhumane, and to think it’s just the beginning... How... how will I survive the rest of my life with him?
“Serena, what’s going on?” Gianna’s groggy voice makes my heart skip a beat.
I glance at the bed where she was sleeping. I didn’t expect her to still be here. She turns on the bedside lamp, and when the light falls on my tear-streaked face, her brows furrow. In an instant, she rushes over, sits on the floor beside me and embraces me in her arms.
“Oh boy, judging by your tears, it didn’t go well.” She gently strokes my hair, and I bury my face in her chest, choking on my tears. “Tell me what happened.”
“I hate him,” I shriek, my voice muffled against Gianna’s shoulder.
