Page 61 of Broken Vows

Tears are streaming down Gigi’s cheeks as she reaches for me, wraps her arms around my neck, and pulls me close. Her soft body molds to mine, her naked skin warm and comforting.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers into my neck.

Now she’ll know why I got triggered that afternoon in Cannes, when she told me to get my dirty Mafia paws off her. All I want to do is touch her, kiss away every mark Franco Fioremade on her skin, and possessively make sure no man ever touches her again. Love isn’t needed in this equation. She is my wife now, and I will protect her till death do us part.

“Have you ever spoken to anybody about what happened?” she asks as she leans back to look me in the eye.

Her expression is serious, but her question makes me smirk. “Angel, I’m a Scalera. I don’t do shrinks. We don’t do therapy. My brothers deal with their shit in their own way.Ibeat that psycho out of my system every day.”

Her hands slide down my arms to where my hands are resting on her hips. She’s going to peel them from her body, disengage, and walk away. Wise woman. Chills spread over my skin at the thought of her rejection when I’ve opened to her in a moment of stupid trust.

Instead, she wraps her hands around my own and bring them to her lips. She places kisses on each of my knuckles, her hair draping and hiding her face.

“My dad was the same. Not Don Trapani. He’s my stepdad. My biological dad. I saw him flip so many times, being all placid and then the next minute…raging.”

I drag in a shaky breath. “Did he ever hit you?”

“When he got hold of me. I learned to run from an early age. To steer clear of him when he was in a mood. To hide. As a grown woman…Franco was the first.”

And her last. I pull my hands free to cup her cheeks. They’re wet from tears.

She leans into me, her hands on my chest. “But because I know how men can be, I’ve never slept… I mean stayed the night with a man before.”

She’s neversleptwith a man before. “No? Why?”

“I’m too scared he’d be human one moment, and a monster in the next. I…I risk having sex but leave right after.”

I gave her exactly what she’d wanted that night in Cannes, but her words give me pause. Every encounter alone with a man, with sex or not, is a risk for her.Fuck. The lives women lead, and I’ve seen it firsthand.

“You don’t trust any man, do you?”

“No.” It’s barely a whisper as she shakes her head. “I don’t.”

I tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “Do you feel safe with me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She swallows and dips her gaze, but when she looks up at me again, there’s honesty in her eyes.

“There’s a lot you can learn about a man in the way he…”

“Say it,” I press her as I run my thumb along her jaw.

“In the way hefucksa woman. Or controls himself anddoesn’tfuck her.”

A blush spreads over her cheeks, and if her words weren’t so crass, she’d be downright adorable right now.

“Is that so? And what did you learn about me, angel?” I slide my hand lower to her neck, and she shivers at my tender touch.

“In Cannes, you never lost control. You never caved in and took without thinking of the woman in the equation as any other man would have. If I’d said no to anything, you would have stopped.”

Yes. I would have stopped. I’m in control of myself every second of every day. But I also know the flip she talks about. I’ve been there, but never with a woman. “Then trust me, too. Trust me to protect you and keep you safe.”

She bites her lip and nods, and in this moment, I want to kiss her more than ever before. But she has her stupid terms which I’ve been bending tonight. Kissing is more defined than mere sex.

“You’re more your mother than your father,” she murmurs. “You just never see it that way.”

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