Page 6 of Do It For Me
I’ve heard those words so many times. Every time he says them, something goes wrong. He either touches me, punches me, or makes me dothingsI don’t want to.
Dante sighs softly and wipes my hand again. We continue our walk in silence, and, to my surprise, for the first time, I don’t feel uncomfortable with someone, even after our talking.
Every now and then, I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, only to catch him looking at me—or he catches me looking at him. Either way, my cheeks flush, embarrassed by the attention and the fact that I’ve been caught.
I know I’m pretty. Everyone says I’m a carbon copy of my mum, which has led to more than one disgusting conversation, even with my father. Mum is the most beautiful woman I know, and I don’t say that just because she’s my mum.
But Dante doesn’t look at me like I’m a piece of meat, or as if he wants to devour me. He looks at me as if I’m a piece of art.
He’s not looking. He’sadmiring.
And damn it, he looks beautiful doing it. He doesn’t seem like a bad person, and for some inexplicable reason, it feels like I already know him.
I can’t let him get attached to this... tome. I’m nothing but trouble.
“I wasn’t a drug addict,” I blurt out, stopping as we get near the house. “I wasn’t a prostitute, either.”
His jaw tightens, and his gaze hardens. For a moment, I wonder if I should’ve stayed silent. “Why are you telling me this,sweetheart?” His voice is calm, but there’s something sharp in his tone.
“I—Did my father pay you to marry me? Or did your family arrange this?”
“Amore—”
“I don’t understand why you want to marry me if neither of those is the case. Marriage is business, and—”
“Marriagecanbe business,” Dante interrupts, his voice soft but firm, “but it can also be about love.”
“Love?” I echo, disbelief dripping from the single word.
No one gets married out of love. The only love that exists is between parents and children. My mother loves me, loves us—Tara and me. My father loves my brothers, for some reason... but my parents don’t love each other. There’s no love between a husband and wife.
“Marriage isn’t an obligation or a duty,” Dante insists. “It’s a choice. You choose to be with someone for the rest of your life. Why would you want to be with someone you don’t love?”
“But you—”
“I know you don’t know me,” his tone softens even more. “And I know there’s no way you could love me or even trust me yet, but I’ll make sure you fall in love with me. You won’t even realise it’s happening. It’ll be as easy as breathing, and it’ll feel so good thatyou’llbe the one asking me to stay close to you.”
I frown. I understand he might have lost his marbles, since he’s acquainted with my father, but this is completely unexpected.
“With all due respect,” I say, keeping my voice steady, “I don’t think I could ever fall in love with someone who agrees to an arranged marriage. You made a deal—that’s certainly not love.”
“What about falling in love with someone who wants to save you?”
My stomach clenches. “I don’t need—”
“I know German, sweetheart.”
He heard us. He knows how he is treating me.
I’m scrambling for something to say when my father’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and commanding. “Time to leave. I need to speak with my daughter.Alone.”
Dante nods but doesn’t break eye contact with me.
Taking both of my hands in his, he leans in close, his breath warm against my ear as he whispers, “If he dares to touch you, beat you, or insult you, tell him I’m watching.”
Before pulling away, he presses a kiss to my cheek. “Stay with me,ragnetta, and I’ll take you out of this hell. I promise.”
My father didn’t want to talk to me. He just wanted Dante to leave.
