Page 26 of The Bikers Redemption

My eyes look to the vacant chair once again. I had asked Sebastian, his right-hand man, if he could please let Luca know I would like to dine with him tonight, and he said he would pass on the message.

So, I dressed in a lovely fitted black dress that ends at my knees, curled my hair, and added makeup with black eyeliner that makes my eyes pop. I sprayed on Luca’s favorite perfume and wore my black open-toe heels that make my legs look long.

Sebastian enters the room, walks toward me, bends, and whispers, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Clemente, but Luca has asked me to tell you he cannot dine with you tonight… he has matters he needs to tend to.”

“Matters he needs to tend to?” I repeat, my voice a little too high.

Sebastian pulls back, surprised. I’ve always been quiet, never to raise my voice, but now I’ve had it. This is ridiculous.

Standing and throwing the napkin on the table, I storm toward the study door and am greeted by two security men standing there, tall, wide in the chest, and pretty damn intimidating. I almost turn around and head back to the dining room but change my mind. This has to happen. I cannot live any longer like this.

They don’t say anything as I step to the door and briskly knock.

“Come in,” the familiar voice says.

Placing my hand on the handle, I push open the door and walk in to find Luca alone, sitting behind his dark mahogany desk. Well, his father’s desk, but he has now claimed it. He looks tired, black circles surround his eyes, and he has papers on his desk that he immediately places in a pile and shoves into the top drawer to his left—something I find odd.

“Did you want something?” he asks, his hand swiping away his hair draping over his forehead.

Entering farther into the room, I say, “I… I just wondered if you were joining me for dinner?”

He sits back in his chair, his hands clutched on the desk. “Did you now?” he asks with a drawl. “Well, I’m afraid I’m not too hungry.” He hasn’t been hungry since I’ve been back. Can he not think of another excuse?

His eyes scan my body, assessing me, making me feel self-conscious, but I try not to show it. Instead, I lift my head and let him take me in. I know I look good—I made sure of it tonight, hoping he would notice me. He’s my husband, for God’s sake, and I’m sick of playing these games. We need to talk, and I’m not leaving until we do.

I take a step closer and stop as I reach the desk. “How long are you going to punish me? I haven’t done anything wrong, yet you’re treating and ignoring me as if I have. You barely even look at me. I didn’t ask for this, Luca. I came back to you. Yet now, I’m not sure why I did. It’s not as if you’re happy that I’m here and safe,” I state with a little emotion in my voice.

He rubs his jaw, pushes his seat back, stands, and walks around the desk to me. He’s wearing a white shirt tucked into black pleated pants. With his green eyes still assessing me, I can’t help but feel uneasy. He looks like he’s stalking me, and I’m his prey.

He comes to a stop when he reaches me, faces me, his hands digging into his pockets, and he begins to rock back and forth on his feet.

“What is it?” I ask, not liking the silence between us. He rubs his bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes questioning me.

“Did you fuck him?”

“I’m sorry, what?” I’m confused about the question.

He smirks, mocking me. “I asked you, Serena,” he says, stepping only inches away. “Did… you… fuck… him?”

If he had slapped me, it would have been easier to take, but the fact he’s asking me if I had sex with Harleyagainis much worse.

“Luca, I can’t believe you—”

I don’t get to finish that statement because he smashes his lips to mine with an urgent kiss. His lips are not loving but demanding and hard, bruising mine.

I try to pull back and tell him to take it slow, but he doesn’t budge. His hand squeezes my jaw, forcing my cheeks together and my mouth to open against my will.

He’s hurting me, and I can’t break free to tell him. I try, but his hands are forceful, giving me nowhere to move.

Luca forces his tongue inside my mouth, and I squirm, trying to voice my protest. His force causes me to sink back against the desk with my hands beside me, stopping me from falling.

With his free hand, he shoves my knees apart and stands between them. My hands try to remove his from my face, but he tears them away with his other hand and puts pressure on my shoulders, making me lie back on the desk. He finally removes his hand from my cheeks, and I immediately want to rub them as they feel sore, but he grabs both my wrists and raises them above my head, forcing them against the desk.

He slides his other hand down the center of my body between my legs, where he reaches and cups my pussy, the movement causing me to cry out in surprise. “Luca, what are you doing?”

His eyes hold mine. “I’m fucking you, Serena, that’s what I’m doing. Are you not my wife?”

My eyes widen—this isnotwhat I had planned. This wasnothow it was supposed to be for us. So I plead with him. “Please, Luca, not like this. Let’s go upstairs to our bed,” I say softly, hoping he will agree.

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