Page 4 of His Stolen Bride

Santino

Her sister? That girl behind her is her sister? I couldn’t give two fucks if she was the queen of England. No, I can’t seem to stop looking at the fierce beauty in front of me. Dark red hair, dark eyes, and a fire in her soul like nothing I’ve ever seen. God, that hair, so different for a classic Italian girl. Are all Carreras like this? No wonder everyone fears them.

I glance at her sister. Her meek eyes are down, never meeting mine.

“I said don’t look at her.” The angry beauty—Bella—steps closer, the gun still leveled at my gut.

“You’ve made your point.” I glance at the barrel. “Now hand that over before I take it from you and make you look foolish.”

Her mouth drops open, and for a moment, I think she might shoot me. Then her nostrils flare and she pass it to me with a hard shove.

“Are there any other weapons I should know about?” I stare down at her, my brain trying to figure out how Giuseppe managed to keep his hands off her. Round tits, a small waist, and hips that flare out perfectly. I want to grip them, to pull her against me and feel every last bit of her olive skin.

She glances at the closet.

“Ah.” I walk past her and enter the room. Against the back is an open panel with an array of weapons. I’ll have Lucenzo clear it out.

“My family will come for you,” Bella calls from behind me.

“I have no doubt.” I turn and meet her at the closet door.

“They won’t take this attack lightly. Not when Giuseppe paid a high price for me.”

“How much did he pay?”

She kicks her chin up. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Is it not?” I make a show of looking around the room. “Everything here now belongs to me. I’d like to make sure I get my money’s worth out.” I follow the curves of her body with my eyes.

Her hand rises so quickly, I nearly miss it. But I don’t. I’ve dodged bullets and fists. And now a slap from a gorgeous, angry woman.

I squeeze her wrist, pull her into the closet, and slam the door.

Her sister screams.

Bella looks up at me with angry eyes as I push her against the door and grab her other wrist.

“This isn’t a negotiation. I won’t take kindly to you hitting me or abusing my soldiers. You will fall in line and display the decorum expected of a Carrera woman. Do you understand?”

She grits her teeth, but her body is soft and warm against mine.

I wonder if her nipples are hard, if her cunt grows wet for me. Fuck, I need to get my head out of her skirt and think clearly. This is my chance. I’m not going to blow it over a spoiled mafia princess with a temper. No matter how sexy she is.

“I asked if you understand.” I squeeze her wrists and pin her harder to the sturdy wood.

“I understand you are playing at being a gangster. When my family learns—”

“They already know.” I lean closer, our noses nearly touching. “Cato Davinci made the call on my behalf. I have no doubt they’re angry. They may well come for me. But I’ll survive.” My lips are only a whisper from hers. “I have survived dozens of times when the odds were against me, and I’ll do the same now. I’m the head of this new family, and everyone under this roof will obey me. Do you understand?”

She tenses against me.

I press into her, my cock thick and hard against her stomach. Fuck, I want this woman. I want her bad enough that the thought of throwing her to the floor and eating her cunt while she fights me at first, then melts for me, plays through my head. I can feel her heat, sense every movement of her thighs. I bet if I reached under her skirt, I’d find her wet for me. She wouldn’t fight for long.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she breathes.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re a wolf that’s found a meal.”

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