Page 66 of His Bride

“Oh, it burns, love.”

She sits back, holding the cutlery, chewing and swallowing, and her gaze settles on me with stern resolve. “If you’re worried about me talking or saying something, I won’t. All I know is Alexius was hurt…badly. I was there when he flatlined, remember?”

I sit up straight. “Who the fuck did you tell?”

“No one. I’m not an idiot.” She stabs my steak, and I take the duck from her. She can mutilate the steak, for all I care. I have an appetite for blood, but not from the steak. Not tonight. Or, actually, that’s wrong.

I do.

From her eating my steak.

I hope she licks the goddamned plate.

“Aren’t you?”

Her eyes narrow.

“Because every real conversation I’ve had with you shows an intelligent woman. But you act like a fool.”

“If protecting my brother is acting a fool, then label me that all you want.”

“You think you know what you’re doing, but you have no clue. You have no idea what the fuck you’re getting yourself into,” I grit. “You want a divorce and think it will make things better? You think running from me to Aurelio is going to be better?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You think he’s going to keep his word, keep you and your brother safe?”

She doesn’t move, doesn’t look up. But the pause is long enough. She doesn't need to say anything. Her silence says it all. She thinks a cunt like Aurelio will keep his word once she’s married him, once he’s taken everything from her family.

I lean forward, elbows on the table, every trace of bullshit gone. It’s not a game anymore, and I’m no longer playing.

“He will fuck you over, Giana. Literally and figuratively. The moment he slips a ring on your finger, he will do whatever the hell he wants with you, your brother, and your asshole father.”

“You’re wrong,” Giana says in a strangled voice. “He promised. Agreed to the deal. He gets me if he leaves Cristiano alone.”

“And your dad?”

“He…he’ll be good, too.”

Anger, dark and hot, shoots through me. Selfish, weak, pathetic, that’s her father, and she can’t see it. I get it, family, she loves them. But the man came to us for help, to get her out of the deal, to protect her. And now, all of a sudden, he’s happy to let her marry the Le Fonti fucker? All just to save his own skin and his son’s, whose life he values more than his daughter’s.

I roll my shoulders, suppressing the overwhelming urge to smash and break things because it’s frustrating as hell that she can’t see her father for the snake that he is.

“If you think Aurelio will keep his word by not harming Cristiano if you marry him, you’re wrong, New York. He’s a weak, sadistic fuck who drools for power.”

“Just like every other man in the mafia world.”

“He’ll take everything from your father. From you.” I narrow my eyes at her. “He’ll taunt you with me. I’ll move on.” I won’t. Not as far as I can see. I’ve never been in fucking love before, and so far, I hate it. “He will use your brother. He’ll hold that will-he, won’t-he-kill-him card over you to control you. And you, pretty Giana, will be his puppet on a string for the rest of your miserable life.”

She’s white now, hands fisted on her steak knife and fork. It’s starting to sink in, finally.

“And, baby,” I continue with a flair of assholery, “you might think, hey, at least you’ll get sex, but it won’t be any good. Or ifyou’re holding on to the dream he won’t want you, forget it. He’ll fuck you like you’re nothing but a blow-up doll for him to ruin, and he’ll come. But not you. He’ll never make you come.” I lean my head to the side. “And I know how much you love to come. Or maybe you’re hoping for the day he’ll lose interest and start screwing everything he can buy so he won’t touch you again. That won’t happen. He’ll fuck others, even on your wedding night. And afterward, he’ll make you suck the taste of his whores off his tiny little dick.” I don’t know the size of it, but in some universe, Aurelio knows I’m calling out the size of his dick, and he’s furious. It makes me happy.

I stand and move toward her. “He’ll hit you,” I say, and she sets down the cutlery, clearly having lost her appetite. “He will hurt you not just because it makes him feel powerful, but because you humiliated him by marrying me first.” I take a napkin from the trolley and dip it in water, then gently start to clean her smeared mascara. “Eventually, you’ll learn to be a make-up expert—thick, to cover up, heavy on the eyes when you need to distract from your mouth or cheek, and heavy on the lips when he forgets himself and punches you a nice black eye.”

“No—”

“Yes.” I tighten my fingers on her chin and force her to look me in the eye. “I know men like him, Giana. We save girls from his kind all the damn time. Some are lightly bruised, moderately traumatized. Others cling to their lives by a mere thread. And some of them slit their wrists after being saved because they just can’t escape the nightmare.”

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