Page 19 of Until You Break
He slammed his palms against the wall, noise, breath, a curse swallowed by stone. Then stillness.
I let silence stretch, sweet and tight. “Tsk. Temper, temper. We’ll fix that. I’ll decide how many nights you scream into the dark before you learn to whisper yes.”
Defiance draws a moth like me. Emilio was feisty, determined to survive this, whatever he thought this was. He didn’t yet understand this wasn’t an inconvenience. Mama had orchestrated every bar of the song, and this wasn’t just theater, but a wedding march, and he was cast as my unwilling groom.
Mine.
Time passed in slow drags of smoke and silence, the kind that settles heavy in the bones. I let the minutes stretch until they hurt, savoring the anticipation.
I flicked ash, exhaled slow, and touched the comm. “Bring him up. It’s time.”
From the landing, I watched as they dragged Emilio through the house. No crowd, no witnesses—just us. His curses echoed off marble, but no one came. Family orders are gospel.
Emilio, mine, was bones and fury. Rage clung to him like cologne. Mouth wet from cursing, lips bitten. Black curls in his eyes. Every step a fight. Art in motion.
He saw me on the staircase and surged against the hold. Guards swore, muscles straining to keep him bound. He spatcurses hot enough to blister, each one a gift. “You again. What do you want from me?”
“Dinner. To celebrate your new life.” I let a cruel laugh slip, smugness curling in my eyes as I watched him struggle.
“No!” His voice was raw when he fought and failed. He hissed when Adrian rolled his wrist behind his back, stormwater eyes flashing.
“You’re too pretty when you’re angry. Keep fighting,cucciolo. Make them work for it.”
His glare hit like heat and venom. “You sick bastard.”
“That’s no way to talk to your future husband,” I said, tongue against my teeth.“Though it does sound pretty from that mouth.”
He thrashed, a guard cursed when his elbow landed.
“Easy,” I drawled. “You’ll wear yourself out before dessert.”
“I’d rather starve.”
“You won’t.” I let my gaze drag over him, deliberate. “Trembling and furious, you’ll eat from my hand dressed in nothing but blood, still pretending you’re not starving.”
His chest rose and fell in short, furious bursts.
“You don’t own me.”
I tilted my head, smiling slow. “Say it again, and I’ll make sure you regret it. You’ll still end up where I put you.”
Candlelight licked his cheekbones, fury in his eyes went molten. He was too close, too furious, and I was too far from the door.
“You’ll look perfect beside me at dinner,” I said. “Men beg for my table at summits. And here you are, truffle served, wrapped in disgrace. A Valenti beside me like a gift. The dons would salivate. And you? You’re the warning I’ll pour with the wine.”
He lunged so hard the guards nearly lost him. Curses tumbled hot and jagged in two languages.
“Careful now.” My laugh tasted like fire. “Keep that blaze and we’ll chain you to the chair and let you sit there the whole night.”
Revulsion flickered. Fear.
I smiled wider. “That’s right. Be good tonight. Or I’ll lace the wine and drink while you watch.”
Color drained a shade. He straightened, rage wrestling memory. He stopped fighting.
We didn’t take the grand hall. Not for the public wing. I led them down the narrow corridor, obsidian tile, candles, the faint scent of roses and iron. Shadows crawled the walls like specters, each step a drumbeat. The house’s bones seemed to hold its breath. I imagined him inside my suite already, candlelight gilding his defiance at a dining table meant for power, the two of us alone, his rebellion set against the quiet ritual of my control.
At the door to the private suite, I glanced back and let it cut like a promise.
