Page 21 of The Don's Soulmate

The words slice through me like a knife, sending a shiver down my spine. Tears well in my eyes as I hear the man, I’m supposed to marry, use such a vile term to describe me. It takes every ounce of strength I have to keep from breaking down in front of these two men.

My savior’s lips curl into a cold smirk as he glances at me, then turns his gaze back to Ugo. “I have no doubt you’re familiar with whores,” he says, his tone dripping with disdain. My heart sinks further, overwhelmed by the shame of being labeled something I’m not—something no one should ever be.

He pauses, letting the words hang in the air, a cruel smirk p laying on his lips. “But,” he continues, “she’s not one.”

A surge of relief floods through me, lifting my spirits despite the chaos. The tension in my chest eases, if only for a moment, as I cling to his words.

“Here’s the final thing you’ve overlooked, asshole,” my savior growls, his voice taking on a dark, menacing edge. “You can’t touch her. Not while I’m here.”

Ugo’s eyes flash with a mix of anger and confusion, clearly unsettled by the stranger’s fierce defense of me. I can see the simmering desire to assert his dominance, to claim me as his property. He swallows hard, a grim smile stretching across his face as he turns his gaze back to my savior. “You can’t stop me. I’ll have her—and your life, too.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with menace. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing the fear and tension of the moment. Ugo’s grim smile widens, and I can see the madness in his eyes.

And then, all hell breaks loose.

In a blur of motion, my savior slams Ugo against the cold, unforgiving wall. Ugo retaliates with a knee to his balls, but my savior, with a cat-like reflex, coils and strikes. A thunderous punch connects with Ugo’s gut, doubling him over. Before he can recover, a bone-shattering right hook sends him crashing to the ground.

The sound of bone crunching grates at my nerves, and despite knowing Ugo meant to harm me tonight, I squeal in empathetic pain, the shock of it lingering through my bones.

The fallen man writhes in agony, his broken nose a grotesque fountain of crimson. Towering over him, my savior is a statue of lethal calm. With a cold precision that chills me to the bone, he draws a small, deadly knife and presses its sharp edge against Ugo’s quivering throat.

“Please…” I scream, unable to bear it any longer. “You don’t have to kill him.”

My savior turns to me, his gorgeous blue eyes looking dead at me. I can’t read his face, but I know what’s in my heart. He wants to kill Ugo for me, a woman whose name he doesn’t know.

I have my shortcomings, but permitting murder in my name is not one of them.

“I don’t have to,” my savior says, coldly. “But I’d like to.”

“Not here, not today,” I say, with a quiet dominance. “Not in my name.”

I begin to see a slow glimmer of humanity in his eyes as he listens to my words. “Your name…” he whispers, realizing he was about to kill a stranger for a stranger.

“It’s Carlotta,” I say quickly, trying to break the tension. “And you are?”

“Carlotta…” he whispers, staring right at me, soaking me in. His gaze travels from my eyes, to my cheeks, to my lips, to my shoulders, quickly down my body, lingering on the spots where Ugo bruised me, harrowed at the sight of where he tried to rip my dress apart.

I realize something. When Ugo sized me up tonight, I wanted to hide, to cover up myself, up to my chin. But with my savior, I stand straight and proud. I want him toseeme.

Ugo tries to reach for the knife, grabbing my savior’s hand. “I’m going to kill you,” I hear Ugo say, wrestling for the knife. I gasp, but my savior breaks into a boyish grin, taking Ugo’s fingers in his own and crushing them, all the while looking at me.

“My name is Ettore,” he offers, and then turns back to Ugo. He lifts Ugo’s hand up in the air, examining the chubby fingers with a cold glint in his eyes. "You were saying something about killing me?" He asks, his voice a chilling threat.

Ugo whimpers in pain, his eyes wide with fear.

“No one threatens to kill me,” Ettore says, and then backflips onto his feet and lands a vicious kick to Ugo’s ribs. The sickening crunch makes me wince, making me forget about the gratitude for my rescue and lean towards horror at the ferocity of Ettore's actions. Ugo wheezes for a few seconds, before passing out dead-cold.

My heart races in my chest, pounding so hard I fear it might burst through my ribcage. My breath comes in short, shallow gasps as I try to steady myself, but the sight of Ugo's broken form sprawled on the ground makes my stomach churn. I can't tear my eyes away from the violence that just unfolded before me. “Is he dead?” I stammer.

Ettore, with his otherworldly blue eyes, walks through the darkness like a predator stalking its prey. He comes up to me, placing his hands around my arms. I look down in shock where his pale, scarred fingers meet my skin. Suddenly, my father and brother’s words come into mind.

We’re the D’Amicis. People always want something from us. When I don’t stay protected, I could be kidnapped. Why did this… Ettore, a man who doesn’t know me, go above and beyond at my behest not once, but twice?

What does he want from me? What is he capable of? From the violence I saw him unleash on Ugo, I don’t think I want to know the answer.

"Are you alright, Carlotta?" he asks, his voice softer, but is the underlying danger is unmistakable.

I nod, my throat tight. What can I say? Part of me wants to thank him, to fling myself into his arms and let him shield me from the cruel world outside. But another part of me knows that Ettore is just as dangerous – if not more so – than the man lying at his feet. And yet, I can't help but feel a strange, magnetic pull to him, even as I tremble with fear.

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