Page 108 of Ruthless Desire

"Why are we here?" she asks as I pull up to the ancient stone building.

I turn to her, savoring the apprehension in her eyes. "Well, moy voron, since you seem so fond of seeking solace in chapels lately, I thought we'd make it official."

Realization dawns, her face paling. "You can't be serious."

"Dead serious." I grasp her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Time to seal the deal, sweetheart. In the eyes of God and man."

My heart races as I lead her into the church. This is more than just another power play. It's a desperate bid to keep her, to make her truly mine in a way that transcends the physical. The depth of my need for her is staggering, almost frightening in its intensity.

But I can't show weakness. Not now, not ever. So I mask my desperation with cruelty, my longing with dominance. It's all I know how to do.

As we stand before the altar, Natalie trembling beside me, I feel a strange mix of triumph and trepidation. This is it. The ultimate claim. But will it be enough?

The priest begins the ceremony, his Latin incantations washing over us. I barely hear the words, too focused on the woman beside me. My woman. My wife.

When it's time for the vows, I turn to Natalie, my voice low and intense. "I, Dante Corleone, take you, Natalie, to be my wife. To possess and protect, to cherish and control, until death do us part."

Her eyes widen at my twisted version of the traditional vows. When it's her turn, her voice shakes, but she doesn't falter. "I, Natalie, take you, Dante, to be my husband. To obey and endure, to love and fear, until death do us part."

The words send a thrill through me. She understands. She knows exactly what this means.

As the priest pronounces us man and wife, I claim her mouth in a searing kiss. She tastes of salt and surrender, and something else... hope? The thought is unsettling.

Back at the villa, I watch Natalie, she's putting on a brave face, but I can see the turmoil in her eyes. Good. Let her feel off-balance. It's when she's uncertain that I can mold her best.

But there's a part of me, small but growing, that wants to comfort her. To tell her that this isn't just about control, that there's something more between us. I squash the impulse ruthlessly. Sentiment has no place in my world.

Enzo raises a glass of champagne. "Congratulations," he says, concern poorly masked. "To the happy couple."

I tighten my grip on Natalie's waist, feeling her lean into me. It's working. She's accepting her place. "Yes, to us. And to new beginnings."

"We leave for Accel City tomorrow," I announce, setting down my glass. "Time to remind everyone who's in charge."

Enzo's expression darkens. "The Corsinis have been making moves. They think you've gone soft."

A laugh rips from my throat, harsh and cold. "They're in for a rude fucking awakening. Isn't that right, Mrs. Corleone?"

Natalie meets my gaze, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Yes," she says softly. "They have no idea what's coming."

Pride swells in my chest. This is what I've wanted - Natalie by my side, a queen to my empire of shadows. Together, we'll paint Accel City crimson.

As night falls, I lead my bride to our bedroom. She comes willingly, her earlier resistance seemingly evaporated. I should be triumphant. This is what I've schemed for, killed for.

So why does it feel like I'm missing a crucial piece of the puzzle?

I push the thoughts aside as I lay her on the bed. There's no room for softness in this game we play. Only hunger, only need.

"Dante," Natalie whispers as I hover over her. "I-" I silence her with a bruising kiss.

Words are meaningless now. Only this matters - the heat of her body, the softness of her skin, the way she yields to me like clay beneath a sculptor's hands.

I trail kisses down her neck, relishing the way she arches into me. My hands roam her body, relearning every curve, every dip. When I enter her, it's with a single, powerful thrust that has her gasping beneath me.

But as I claim her body, as I lose myself in her heat, I can't shake the feeling that something fundamental has shifted. That in trying to bind her to me, I've somehow bound myself to her as well.

The realization is terrifying. Exhilarating. And as we fall asleep, tangled together in the aftermath of our passion, I find myself holding her just a little tighter than necessary.

What have you done to me, Natalie? And more importantly, what am I going to do about it?

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