Page 30 of Protect Me

I rub my finger along the rim of my glass and zone out as they talk about the intricacies of the ceremony. If I look at them, I’ll get homicidal. I know it. I can feel it. Even his red tie matches her dress.

They fucking match.

“I’ve always wanted an outdoor wedding, ever since I was a kid. Right, Daddy?” Isabella looks at her father, but the word makes my spine snap to attention. She’s saying it with the same dripping sensuality that she does at home.

Jesus, girl, not here. Not fucking here. I had to give up my gun at the door, and I’m sure none of them have given up theirs.

“It’s...” Antonio slaps a bug off the table and throws his drink down like a petulant child. “It’s not what I want. I would rather have it in my living room than out here.”

“It’s one day,” his father says, trying to soothe him. “Happy wife, happy life, Tony. You’ll learn that quickly.”

The whole table laughs. Except me. These people are insufferable. Antonio is a baby. The wedding is dramatic and overly extravagant. But Isabella is right. It is beautiful out here.

Antonio drops his head into his hand. I want to reach over and strangle him. He’s acting like he’s getting married in a two-star hotel. Gasp.

My eyes meet hers, and both families disappear. It’s me beside her instead of her husband. I imagine fucking her throat while I sit on that damn throne. Staring down at something as beautiful as the landscape out here. More so, even.

She throws me a flirty smirk, and my vision fills with the dicks around me again. The distance between us widens as I’m thrown back in my seat.

It’s at that moment that I realize how much I wish I could be the one beside her. And that sucks.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Isabella

Vance and I sit across from each other at home. A drink sits in front of him, and it seems as if he takes heavy swigs every minute. When the glass is empty, I go and pour him some more.

My wedding is tomorrow. That means this job is over for him after tonight. Neither of us knows what to say about it.

I saw how he looked at me at the rehearsal. The hungry frustration in his eyes and the need to kill my fiancé written all over his face. Kill him for me.

When my father first brought Vance into my home, I was annoyed—angry, even—that he thought I needed a babysitter. Now I don’t want to be without him. The world seems daunting whenever I peek from beneath his wing. But he isn’t one of us. He’s not someone I would ever be allowed to be with.

I finish pouring his drink, set down the bottle, and climb onto his lap. No words pass between us as I wrap my arms around his neck. He keeps his hands on the table. He’s being distant, and he needs to be. I know that.

“Daddy,” I whisper, nuzzling my face into his neck, where the coarse hairs rub my cheeks.

He sighs. “Don’t, little girl. I’m not in the mood.”

“It’s our last day together.”

“I know,” he whispers.

“We still have time to fuck, you know. You don’t have to hand me off to Antonio as the pure queen he thinks I’ll be.”

Vance shakes his head. “Yes, I do.”

I stop nuzzling him. “What’s a bigger fuck-you than screwing me the night before I get married?”

A drawn-out sigh leaves Vance’s lips. “If you asked me day one if I’d want to do a fuck-you to you and your husband-to-be, I’d have jumped all over it. But now, fucking you would do nothing but break my own heart.”

His words drip with a sad frustration, and I feel it too. In my bones. I’ve grown so attached to him. He’s given me so many firsts. I truly feel like he’d dive in front of a bullet for me, which is more than my husband would ever do. Nerves flutter around my belly with large, nauseating wings.

I straighten and look into his eyes. I would do anything short of giving up my name to be with him and even then, if I had a paper in front of me that released me from the Vendetti family name, I’d be tempted to sign it.

I lean in and kiss him. His lips don’t spread on mine, and a hardness comes over his eyes before he pulls away from me. He nearly knocks me onto the floor as he pushes me off and stands.

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he says, his usually strong and confident tone wavering.

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