Page 5 of Coerced Wife

I look toward where he’s indicated. Two guards wearing dark suits and earpieces stand at either end of the terrace with their hands folded in front of them. I recognize them from the detail at Saverio’s house. I didn’t even notice they’d followed us. Sunglasses obscure their eyes, but I can feel their gazes on me.

I turn my face back to Saverio. “I’ll be fine.”

Dragging me flush against him, he lowers his lips to my ear and asks in a deep, low voice, “Do you still smell like me between your legs?”

An involuntary gasp escapes my lips.

He puts distance between us before I can find my bearings, the momentum almost making me lose my balance. He holds me steady with his hand on my nape, only letting me go when I’ve found my feet. The loss of his heat is like a blanket of comfort that falls away. The air grows colder.

A cocky grin curves his lips as he no doubt sees the reaction his words elicit. For the life of me, I can’t think of a fitting comeback.

Having achieved his goal, which was a reminder of who owns me, he stalks away.

It takes a moment to gather my composure. Where we’ve been alone at the bar not a second ago, I’m suddenly surrounded by people who compete for the barman’s attention. It strikes me then how no one dared to approach us when Saverio was present. They were literally walking circles around him.

I move to the side where I’m out of the way, sipping the juice as I scan the crowd while trying to look as if I’m having fun when the opposite is true. Nervousness ties my stomach into a knot. I’ve never been good with big groups, and I’m awkward at parties. I glance around, searching for numbers and exercises I can do to calm me. A seating plan is pinned on an easel at the end of the bar. I add the table numbers and do the habitual multiplications and subtractions in my head when a woman says behind me, “Well, well.”

Something about the smoky voice and the tone she uses makes the hair on my nape prickle. I turn around and come face to face with a tall, slender woman with hair as black as coal and eyes so green it’s impossible to forget the color. It looks as if her silver lace dress is painted on her body. The glittery fabric leaves little to the imagination,revealing the silver bra and panties underneath. Saverio had a good understanding of the dress code after all.

“So you’re the flavor of the month,” the woman says, trailing a gaze over me.

I do a double take. “Excuse me?”

The way in which she evaluates my dress as if she’s estimating the price tag and the sour smile that stretches her red-painted lips rub me up the wrong way.

She pauses for a second on my stomach before looking at the champagne flute of orange juice in my hand. “In which strip club did he find you?”

I can’t be hearing right. “Are you talking to me?”

She smirks. “You came with Sav, didn’t you?”

I look at her face. With her high cheekbones, full lips, and flawless olive skin, she possesses all the qualities of classical beauty. It’s a pity she seems to be a bitch on the inside.

Straightening my back, I say, “I don’t see how who I came with is any of your business.”

She gives a little laugh, her voice suave like velvet. “Oh, the strippers Sav drags to my cousin’s wedding are very much my business, darling.” She pulls her eyes into slits and steps into my space. “Your type isn’t welcome here.”

A red flag pops up in my mind. She’s Elena’s cousin? That makes her family of Luigi and Giorgio. Still, that doesn’t give her the right to speak to me like that.

I lift my chin. “Actually, Sav and I just moved in together. I’m his girlfriend.” My smile is bitchy. “Who exactly are you?”

Tilting her head, she looks at me as if I’m the muck under her shoes. Animosity sparks in those jewel-like eyes as she cocks a hip and says, “I’m his wife.”

CHAPTER

TWO

Saverio

Icatch up with Dante in the indoor garden. A few people with drinks in their hands chat between the orchids with their white and purple flowers dripping from the branches of a bigleaf magnolia tree.

The hothouse is the only room with some heat in the mansion. The place looks more like an art gallery than a home. Throwing the wedding here is the family’s way of showing off their wealth and status. It makes a statement about the bride Raphael is about to marry. It says he’s a lucky man.

There’s no doubt in my mind that he considers himself lucky. He’s gotten what he’s always wanted, which is a foot in the door of Luigi’s business. Being Elena’s godfather, Luigi had considerable influence in choosing Elena’s groom. Her father, Stefano, is Luigi’s younger brother. Heused to be Luigi’s right-hand man before health problems forced him to step down from his position as underboss.

Giorgio wasn’t nearly ready to take over, but I was. That’s why Giorgio got the title while I did the work. Giorgio inherited the responsibility, but I earned the recognition and respect. My payment was shares in the business and fifty percent of all profits from After Dark. Rachele was part of the package deal. Luigi knew if Giorgio became my brother-in-law, he’d always have my protection.

Then Rachele dropped the bomb, and my life as I knew it went up in flames. She always surrounded herself with sensitive, artistic men. I should’ve known already then that my rough edges would never be to her taste. It took another man to rub my face in the knowledge.

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