Page 71 of The Gangster King

He lifts my hand to his lips and my heart skips a beat while I get lost in this fake moment.

What if it was real?

I could fall over the cliff, losing myself in this beautiful, dangerous creature.

“I’m going to fucking marry you.” Dante rasps. “You’ll be happy, kitten. I promise. For the rest of your life, I’ll give you everything you want.”

Stop.

“I don’t give a shit what other mobsters do, I’m not taking another woman, and you will not look at another man. You are it for me, Addy,” Dante continues.

Be still my heart.

“We will have little babies. Little girls who are as beautiful as you. God, you’re going to be an incredible mother.”

I close my eyes and push back all the images of being his wife and having a family with this crazy man.

Please, stop.

Why am I letting him get to me? Was I not lying? Do I want...I can’t want this. I can’t.

He kidnapped me!

My fingers tighten around his at the same time, and we’re clutching at one another. Our eyes locked.

This isn’t how I was supposed to feel.

“Tell me it’s what you want,” Dante growls out his demand as I feel myself slipping into his abyss.

“Propose to me properly,” I say.

What am I doing?

“You want me to get down on my fucking knees, because I will,” he asks roughly.

I shake my head and try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me go.

I don’t want him to let me go.

“No. Not here. Not while you have me locked up.” I shake my head.

“I don’t see any bars, Adelina.” He drops my hands and spreads out his arms. “I also didn’t have a gun to your head when your mouth was around my cock. Or when you had your fingers in your cunt begging for my attention.”

I glance away.

I hate it when he does this. Forces me to acknowledge my own acceptance of this situation.

But did I have choice?

He pulls me up against his chest and I feel him rumble as he makes his next demand. “Tell me. Tell me you want me.”

Fuck.

I don’t know how I feel. I need to run. I need to get away. I want to kiss him. I want to see him drop to his knees and beg me to be his wife.

And yet...I am leaving him.

I press my lips to his, imaging the day I hear about his death in the news. When I have another name. Another face.