Page 12 of Stolen Bride
There’s a knock at my door, and Gabriele goes to check it. “It’s Gracie.” Damn. She didn’t hesitate to get an earful.
I glimpse over to the now empty spot where Salazar had once laid, and even the bloodstain has now been picked up. “Let her in,” I grunt, annoyed to no end at this moment with my little hummingbird.
“Thanks, brute,” she says, slapping him in the chest. He grunts like it actually hurt, knowing it wasn’t more than a fly swat on a horse’s ass.
She goes up to hug me like she always does and stops in her tracks. Her brow arches, and a smirk spreads across her face before she steps away. “Getting sloppy, Brother.” She reaches onto my desk, pulls out a tissue, and returns to my side, wiping my face. “Missed a spot.”
I step back and stare at my baby sister with a look of disappointment to see the damn scandalous outfit she’s decided to sport tonight, like she’s asking for me to snap some necks. This club has maintained a clean public record, at least so it would seem. No bad press has been mentioned, but I’ve had to take people out that put their hands on her.
I snatch the tissue from her and tuck it in my pocket. “Thanks, Hummingbird. Now that you’ve interrupted me while I’m working and brought trash into my club again, what am I going to do with you?”
She twists her lips with a pleading look on her face. It’s the same one she gives my father that has him bending at her will. It works for both her and my mother, but I’m not as easily amenable. “Listen, I swear it’s out of the kindness of my heart.” She does have the soul of a saint, even though she has gotten used to my business, but some people aren’t worthy of her tender heart.
“That bitch doesn’t deserve your kindness.” My voice is cold and unrelenting, sending my sister a step back. My teethgrind so hard they’re bound to crack with the anger I feel toward her friend. It isn’t that I find her to be slutty. That’s nothing. It’s her attitude in general that sours me. Reading people is something that comes natural to someone in my world, and her friend has got “treacherous bitch” written on her forehead.
“Don’t be mean, Damiano.” Grace rolls her eyes at me, which I try to ignore, but my temper’s growing and I’ll take it out on my men later. “It’s not for her. It’s for her stepsister. She’s a doll. I wish she had a different family, poor girl. Trust me when I tell you they are night and day.”
Shaking my head, I walk into my private bathroom and look in the mirror to check my appearance once more for any stains. “Don’t be fooled, my little naïve Gracie.”
She follows behind me, standing against the doorframe, and tries to argue. “I’m notthatnaïve.”
My brows shoot up and I lift my head away from the mirror, turning my attention back to my little sister. I give her a chance to explain what the fuck that’s supposed to mean. She’s a five-foot nothing with dark curls and doe eyes, looking ever the little girl I’ve always thought of, but there is something that makes her appear older. I don’t like it. “Anyway, do tell me why you risked my wrath by bringing them into my club.”
She rolls her eyes and gives me huff. “Stella is being married off in two days.”
I tilt my head in confusion at the choice of words. An odd way of saying getting married. “Married off? Like an arranged marriage or some shit?” I ask.
“Yes, and she’s obviously distraught about it. They’re so cruel to her. Like, seriously, her mother died a long time ago, and they treat her terribly. I saw her stepfather hurt her, so when Camille used the excuse of taking her out for a last hurrah beforeshe marries, I thought it would be nice to sneak her out to have some fun. I don’t think she knows what fun is.” She chokes on the last bit, tears filling her throat.
I walk up to my sister and swipe the tears off her face. “Don’t cry, Hummingbird. You’re too damn soft for this world.” I’m going to kill the stepfather of this unknown girl for making my sister cry. She’s used to my cruelty to men who deserve it, but I’d never harm a woman, even that friend of hers, unless she did something to Gracie. This bastard upset my sister so much she’s shaking.
She swipes at her cheek with the back of her hand as the tears continue to fall. “I’m sorry, Damiano. I swear, I hate her father. He was so mean. I used cover-up on the bruises, but they’re still visible…a little.”
“Bruises?” I ask, feeling my temper amplified for this unknown woman. Strange—normally, I wouldn’t give two fucks. Perhaps it’s because she’s friends with my little sister.
“Yes. She has several.” I thought I was pissed for my sister, but my anger’s building for this young woman. No man should put his hands on a woman unless it’s for pleasure.
“If it will make you happy, I will join you all for the night.” It isn’t just to make her happy. Protecting Gracie is always a priority, and I’m not going to let some girls take advantage of her. At least, that’s what I tell myself. No one else matters to me except my family, so I shouldn’t care about this woman.
“Thank you.” She hugs me tight, something only she’s ever been allowed to do. I don’t let anyone touch me. Not a soul is deemed worthy of getting close to me. Her friend dared to get close, and my guards quickly pulled her back. It was another strike against her in my book.
“Come, now, before your friend gets her stepsister into trouble.” I led my sister out of my office, through the catwalk, and over to my personal lounge.
Sitting there is Camille with Rocco, and meekly beside him is pure heaven with a drink in her hand. Long brown hair in waves is locked up in a tight ponytail, needing my fist to pull her head up and give me her attention. As if she senses the silent threat pouring out of me, she lifts her eyes to meet mine, and the cold, dark bastard in my soul has grown darker. They’re a light blue that shine in the darkened club light.
Filthy thoughts shoot through my mind a mile a second as her lips part.Yes, you’ve met trouble, little girl.I envision sliding my ten-inch cock deep between those plump beauties and watch as she chokes on my dick. What the hell? I immediately harden against my Canali slacks, grateful that my tailor took good care in hiding my weapons. The enclosed lounge is good for business, and now it’s going to be even more useful as she screams my name and looks down at the faces while they can’t see a strip of her naked flesh. My balls ache to bend her over the lounge, screwing her while the crowd below dances, unaware that I’m filling her tiny hole with every ounce of my devil seed.
I want her.
I need her.
She’s the devil’s prize.
She is an angel with temptation written all over her, made for the devil. My heart fucking stops. There are only a few people this motherfucker beat for, and they are all family, but damn, it seems she just made that short list and moved to the very top.What the hell just happened to me?
This feeling makes no damn sense, and I want time alone with her to figure out what this temptress has used on me. Is it the bloody violence mixed with my anger just sending my adrenaline pumping that makes her more appealing? I will find out and squash these emotions before I let myself get out of hand.
“Rocco, get the fuck out of here. Take Camille dancing or wherever she wants to go. Get her some drinks as well.” I look directly at Camille with a look that should scare her shitless, but I wonder if she’s too dumb or naïve to take me seriously. Instead, she stares at me with a look of indifference. “You, don’t go whoring around my club.”