Page 52 of Isle of Beauty

When conversation dies down, Alessio taps a spoon to his glass, gathering everyone’s attention. My apprehension skyrockets. I don’t want shit from him. Especially not a speech about how grateful he is that I’m here or any other bullshit. The man is a monster, a rapist, a drug dealer and he deserves what’s coming for him.

Lana’s not looking at me but she takes a step closer to me in silent support. It’s all I need to relax and listen, even though I vow to have his words enter through one ear and come out the other, never to burrow into my soul.

“We’re gathered tonight to celebrate our families,” he starts and I hold an eye roll as his dramatics. “Pietro and I have been friends for over four decades and we dreamed of merging our families further. Fate had other plans when Eduardo Garcia, may he rest in peace, swept our Alana off her feet and away.”

Alana’s body tense up at the mention of her ex-husband's name and I feel it as though it happened in my own limbs. I don’t need all the details to know it ended badly and she wasn’t swept off her feet.

I place myself behind her, her back to my front, and lay my arm across her chest. To the outside world, it will look like I’m a possessive bastard who’s claiming her physical body at the mere mention of her past. And maybe I am. But to her, it will be another reassurance that I’m here for her.

“Eduardo’s death was a tragedy, one that we hope Alana moves on from with my son, knowing she’ll always be surrounded by family, and deeply loved.” He smiles at her warmly, his eyes revealing the truth of his words. “In a turn of events no one saw coming, my eldest, who I thought was lost to me, has also come back to the Isle of Beauty. As is customary, he will claim his place as my Heir, and the most lovely bride. I couldn’t be happier and more fulfilled as a father to have my son back, and gain a new daughter that I already love so much.”

He approaches me and I’m glad to have Alana separating us. I’m not proud to use her as my shield but his words sound too honest, too raw. I don’t want him near.

“Son, I’ve been waiting for such a long time for this moment. I’ve never stopped waiting for you to come back.” His voice is soft, like the prayer of a pious man asking God to absolve him of his sins. And he looks at me like I might.

“Pace è Salute!” he raises his glass to invite all the guests to toast to our union. I down my drink and stride back into the Moretti Manor.

“Get your shit together,” I tell my reflection in the oval bathroom mirror, while I bring cold water to my face. I can’t believe one simple speech from the man who claims to be my father is getting me so close to losing control. I haven’t cared about him for twenty-five years. And I certainly won’t absolve him of his crimes.

Hearing him saying he has waited for me to come back, looking at me like I’m the answer to his prayers, when Julian was right there and looking like he approved, that was all too much.

Having Lana’s silent support and warmth against my body when I’m supposed to ruin her was all too much.

I wash my hands and dry them with a towel, my head hanging between my shoulders. I’m giving myself one more minute. Just one more. And then, I’m back out there collecting evidence to send their asses to prison. Dobrev and Ventura’s presence is enough to alert Interpol already.

The door knob clicks behind me and Lana walks in, closing the door softly behind her. She turns the lock and the sound resonates in the small space before she leans against the door, waiting.

“I don’t need you here, Lana.”

“Now who’s the liar?”

Did she come here to mock me? She knows exactly what I think of my father. I confided in her three years ago, laying my heart at her feet for her to trample. I had never opened up about my past to anyone before her. The truth is that I can’t bring myself to regret it. What we shared was special and had relieved me of a weight that held me down for years. She took that piece of me with her.

As our eyes collide in the mirror, the thought crosses my mind that maybe I don’t want it back.

“You shouldn’t be here right now.”

“Take it out on me.”

Her voice is barely audible yet I hear her loud and clear. I turn my head to look at her over my shoulder, then slowly move the rest of my body to face her, as if not to startle her. As if she were a doe caught alone in the middle of the forest and I the predator ready to pounce.

“You don’t want that right now, mo cara. Trust me.”

She takes a step forward, shoulder back and eyes alight with excitement. “Take it out on me,” she repeats. “I need it.”

I close my eyes, willing my dick to calm the fuck down. Since the first moment I saw her tonight, I have been battling a raging erection. When I open them again, she hasn’t moved. She’s staring at me, daring me to act, pupils dilated, fire dancing behind them. Her shoulders are back, chin held high. She’s ready for anything I throw at her. She’s defiant, a fucking masterpiece.

I cage her in with my arms on both sides of her head, leaning down. My nose comes to the column of her throat and I inhale deeply, breathing her in.

“Fuuuuck.”

That same jasmine and saffron scent invades my senses, making me groan aloud. A vision of her naked in my bed in my house in London comes unbidden, the early morning light painting her skin in hues of pink and blue.

“Does my little wife want to be used?” I whisper in her ear, laying the softest kiss just under it. She isn’t technically my wife yet, but the moan and eager nod she gives is enough to tell me she enjoys it as much as I do, no matter the lies she spews at me. My cock twitches in excitement, and I have to grip it hard to lessen the pressure. “Then get on your knees.”

My voice is hard and commanding.

She obeys beautifully, her knees landing on the tiled floor, and waits for my next command. My cock leaks at the sight of her submission. She’s always been beautiful but on her knees, willing and compliant, she’s breathtaking. Especially when I know how vicious she can be when she decides to bite back.

---