Page 14 of Bellini Bound
The rear door was wrenched open and, as if I were a dog, Enzo snapped his fingers, commanding, “Out.”
A snarky remark asking if he planned to mount me from behind to consummate this farce of a marriage—since he was so intent on treating me like an animal—sat on the tip of my tongue. But then the thought of him doing just that to spite me had me biting down on it so hard I tasted blood.
My first time was going to hurt regardless; I didn’t need to make it worse by provoking my husband into taking me roughly and turning an already painful experience into one of pure agony.
Then a terrifying thought popped into my brain. Would he stop if I asked him to? Or would he plow ahead and claim what he believed to be his marital right?
God, this was like one of those Regency romance novels where a virgin bride was all but sold off to the rakish duke to save her family from ruin.
Maneuvering out of the vehicle was no easy feat with the countless layers of tulle bunched up around my legs, but I managed to place one of my heeled feet on the SUV’s running board. The feeling of success was short-lived, however, when my second foot came down and I didn’t quite stick the landing, so when my weight shifted, the world tilted sideways before I crashed onto the paved driveway.
Enzo uttered a curse under his breath, and I could have sworn I saw one of his hands reach in my direction to offer me help up before he withdrew it, his face hardening again as he all but yelled, “Get up!”
My palms were scraped and bleeding from where I’d caught myself on the rough concrete, and I resisted the urge to wipe them off on my white dress.
“Ma’am.” A voice from my right caught my attention.
The man who had driven us here extended a white handkerchief in my direction.
I accepted it gratefully, offering him a mumbled, “Thank you,” before dabbing at the abrasions on my skin.
Enzo was already headed for the front door, but he called over his shoulder, “Come. I have a wedding gift for you.”
Hustling as fast as I could in heels behind him, I protested, “Oh, you didn’t have to—”
He spun around with a glare so severe it had me zipping my lips.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he began, his lethal tone causing me to gulp involuntarily. “This ismyhouse. You aremywife. And Iwill nottolerate you challenging my authority while you are under my roof. Is that clear, Allison?”
If looks could kill, the man would be six feet under. His continuing to call me Allison, even though he knew I preferred Allie, combined with his tyrannical attitude, set my blood to boiling.
“Crystal,” I forced out through clenched teeth.
Enzo merely grunted in response before opening the front door. He strode through the massive foyer featuring marble flooring and a curved staircase that led to a second-floor balcony, expecting me to follow. Which, of course, I did.
There wasn’t time to take in much more of the house as I struggled to keep up with his fast pace. But eventually, he stopped before a door, which he pulled open to reveal a set of stairs presumably leading to a basement.
I stammered, “M-my gift is down th-there?”
With a single dip of his chin, Enzo motioned with a hand for me to precede him down the steps. Honestly, I was surprised when I heard hisfootfalls behind me, half expecting him to close me down here in some sort of underground cell to live out the rest of my days.
Once we reached the bottom, there was a steel door with a bar set across it and several complicated locking mechanisms that looked like something out of a spy movie. Especially when Enzo stepped forward for a retina scan.
There was a mechanical whirring as the locks disengaged, and Enzo swung the heavy door open, only to reveal it was no less than a foot thick. It was giving off nuclear bomb shelter vibes, and the idea that I might be locked inside had my heart rate kicking into high gear.
When my husband didn’t make a move to enter before me, I shuffled inside, only to stop short when I caught sight of the scene set before me. Enzo wasn’t expecting me to stop, so he barreled into me from behind, knocking me off balance, and I braced to crash to the ground for the second time in less than half an hour.
My eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the pain that would accompany the fall, but I sucked in a sharp breath when a tight grip around my biceps halted my descent.
With my chest heaving, I peeked behind me, ready to offer my thanks, but those words never made it past my lips when I saw Enzo’s nostrils flaring like those of a pissed-off bull and the look of pure hatred in his eyes.
Righting me quickly, he released his hold and took a giant step to the side. It was almost like he couldn’t stand being so close to me.
To the men gathered inside the concrete room, he said, “Gentlemen, I introduce you to the new Mrs. Enzo Bellini.”
I fought a flinch at hearing my married name for the first time aloud, electing to hold my head high and meet the eye of each of the eight men standing before me. I was doing my damnedest not to show weakness, but that wasn’t easy when they stared back at me with identical expressions of contempt.
It was damn near impossible not to shrink in on myself under the intensity of their glares.
