Page 25 of Shattered Diamonds

I watch Luca throw a hand towel at the guy then he viciously shoves him toward the swinging exit.

The next thing I know, my body is being jerked forward and the rip of material sounds through the kitchen. My mouth opens in a gasp as I realize what just happened.

“You just ripped my dress!”

“Leave,” he orders, holding the knife at the neckline of my outfit.

I stupidly think he is talking to me. I jerk away and try to take a step back to get out of his hold. I’m ready to run, run fast and far. Good looks be damned. Sex appeal forgotten. This man is a psychopath.

He pulls me back. “Not you, young pup. You are going to quickly learn that I always get what I want.”

I’m speechless. Stunned in my spot. Frightened to my core. The swoosh from the swinging door to the kitchen catches my attention. Luca and the other guy vanish, leaving me with a madman and the kitchen staff that blatantly turned a blind eye to a man’s finger being severed.

Split seconds pass. My body jerking forward brings my attention back to Demetri. The neckline of my dress hangs loosely at my chest. In shock, I look up at his piercing blue-greens and stammer when I see the intense look in his eyes. “W-What the hell are you doing?”

“Showing you exactly what kind of man you are going to spend the evening with.” He wrenches the knife down, shredding the white material of my dress into thin strips. I chastise myself as I stand there, spellbound. My body shudders as his fingers daftly finagle the satin material. The back of his knuckles brush the skin of my chest with each swipe, twist, and loop. All the way down my body, he rips and shreds my dress then ties it in a messy knot down the left side of my body.

It’s becoming a disastrous masterpiece you would see on a couture runway.

I fight him every step of the way, but it’s wasted energy.

He leaves open holes, cutouts showing small slivers of my pale skin. I shuffle on my feet with each tug, exasperated at how I’m being handled but also unexpectantly enthralled at how I am being managed. No one has or would dare touch me this way. Cillian would murder any man for this kind of mistreatment of his sister.

The fact of the matter is in this crazy moment, Demetri is stimulating something inside me that has been kept silent.

Demetri isn’t just any man, and he isn’t a man who would concern himself with what my brother would say or do. He said it himself. He doesn’t ask for permission. Which means he will never beg for forgiveness either.

I peek over at the cooking staff, unsure of how I look and what parts of my full figure body are showing. I squirm, still fighting, but not one of them is looking our way. It’s as if we’re not even standing here.

“You just cut off a man’s finger,” I mutter in shocked haste.

“The tip. Not the finger,” he corrects, like it’s not a big deal.

“You can’t do that.” My arms flail around as I’m jerked with each shred of material. “Will you stop!” I slap at his hands.

“I just did,” he continues like I didn’t just demand he stop ripping my dress.

“Demetri, you could go to jail.”

“Don’t insult me. Jail is for little boys.” He continues cutting, ripping, and tying my dress with determination.

And I’m letting him.

I suck in a breath. Has this man just admitted to being in prison? What the hell am I thinking? He had a knife at my throat and a pair of scissors at my mid-section. He’s slicing and dicing centimeters from my pale skin. My white dress has become his virginal sacrifice. He just cut off someone’s finger. Now he’s pulverizing my dress. Am I crazy? What is wrong with me?

“You’ve been to prison?” I boldly and abruptly inquire.

He stops all movement and stands to his full height, staring at me like I’m the biggest mystery. Amused astonishment fills his handsome face. “This can’t be true,” he mummers, shaking his head. “You can’t be true.”

“What?”

“This fucking innocent.”

“I’m not.” I shoulder the hurt, scrutinizing him with a bravado I don’t have.

“You are. I just wasn’t aware of how much you really are.”

“I’m really not.” I try to fight for something unknown rearing its ugly head inside me. It bothers me that he thinks I am so innocent. Why? I don’t know. This man is regal in stature, and I’m positive he is experienced beyond the normal realm of a typical sex life between two consenting adults.

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