Page 12 of Stolen Union

“I always eat a bowl of oatmeal with cashew milk and blueberries on top and a side of avocado toast.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder and gives me a smug grin like she’s proud of herself.

I snort. “You’re one of those girls.”

“What girls?”

“You know, delusional. Eat real food.”

“I do eat real food, you asshole. It’s just not covered in fat and grease.”

“It’s boring food, then.”

She rolls her eyes. “Are we done having this conversation?”

“Are you going to eat? Because I need you to eat.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t hurt your brothers if you’re dead. No leverage that way. So, eat.” I shove the plate back into her hands. Grumbling under her breath, she takes a small bite of the eggs before spitting them back out.

“Nope, can’t do it.” She hands me the plate back. “I’ll be in here, starving to death until you get me better food. The way I see it, you need me alive. So you’ll cater to my demands. Give me food I want to eat.”

I lean close to her, but she doesn’t back away, which I find impressive. Though she’s trying to hold her own, I can see the worry in her eyes. “I’m in charge here, Gabriella. You’ll either eat what I make or starve. It’s going to take you a full month before you die from starvation, which gives me plenty of time to torture Rocco. So, don’t eat. It doesn’t matter to me.” I turn away from her.

“Wait,” she says. I smile and face her again.

“Yes?”

She sighs and holds out her hand. “Fine. Give me the food. I’ll force it down. And then I’ll throw it all up right onto your face. How does that sound?”

“Maybe I have a vomit fetish.”

“No one has a vomit fetish.”

“Gabriella, you can try to gain power, but it won’t work. Now eat your damn food.” I give her the plate back.

Slowly, she begins to eat, looking like she’s fighting an internal battle the entire time. I stand there, watching her, and she glares at me as she eats. Finally, after twenty minutes, she’s done.

“There. Take it.” She shoves the plate into my hands.

“I can’t believe it took you so long to eat.”

“Because it was disgusting. I should be on my honeymoon, enjoying a mimosa, not being forced to eat pig fat.”

“You are spoiled.”

“Oh, did you only just realize that now?” She scrunches up her nose. “How cute. I am spoiled, Dante. It is what it is. Next time you feed me, feed me real food.”

“I have something in mind you can eat.”

It takes her a second before she gags. “God, you’re gross. Like I’d ever do that to you.”

“Well, you’ve never done that to a man before. How do you know you don’t like it?”

She props her hand on her hip. “Who says I’ve never done that to a man before?”

“Trust me, Gabriella, I know. Rocco never let you date anyone. You’re as pure as snow.” I slide my finger down her cheek, and she smacks my hand away. “Don’t say you don’t like something until you’ve tried it.”

“And don’t assume I’ll like it just because I’ve never tried it.”