Page 40 of A Sinner's Truth

“No what?” Santo repeats. His lips tilt slightly at the corners as if he’s trying not to smile.Does he think this is funny?

“No, you’re not buying this apartment. No, you’re not going to roll in and think you can just take control of my life and make demands left, right, and centre. That’s not how this is going to work.” I fold my arms over my chest, mostly to stop my hands from waving around the room like a lunatic.

“I’m not buying this apartment. You are,” he says.

“How do you figure that?” I don’t have the funds to buy this place, not until I get access to my trust fund.

“I’ll have my lawyers make sure everything is in your name,” Santo says.

“So, you want to buy this apartment in my name?” I ask, to be sure I’m understanding him correctly.

“Exactly.” He smiles.

“No,” I repeat.

“People don’t say no to me, Aria.”

“Good thing I’m not people then. I’m your wife, and I’m saying no,” I tell him.

“I’m your husband, and you are buying this apartment with our funds. I will not have my wife rely on another man for anything,” Santo fires back.

“I’m not even going to be living here. You’re being ridiculous.” I storm into the kitchen and turn on the coffee machine, not because I want coffee, but because I need something to do so I don’t strangle him.

“I don’t care. You’ll come back here when our arrangement concludes. This isn’t up for debate, Aria,” Santo tells me like his word is law.

“You’re right. It’s not up for debate, because I said no.” I’m about ready to find the nearest object in arm’s reach and start throwing shit.

Santo laughs—actually fucking laughs. Asshole thinks this is a joke. It’s not a joke. “It’s fucking adorable that you think you have a choice here,” he tells me.

“Adorable? Really? I’ll show you adorable.” I pick up the closest thing to me, which happens to be a saucepan lid, and hurl it in his direction.

His laughter quickly dies down as he easily dodges the projectile and starts stalking towards me.Shit, I probably shouldn’t have done that.I just threatened a mafia guy. I may end up with those cement shoes after all, as they drag me to the bottom of the Yarra River.

I take a step backwards when Santo manoeuvres around the counter. He takes one look at me and stops in his tracks. “Get that look off your face, Aria,” he tells me.

“What look?” I ask him.

“Fear. You look like you’re scared of me.”

“You’re a mafia prince. Pretty sure people are supposed to be scared of you,” I counter.

“Not you. I’m not going to fucking hurt you.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing the already-tousled locks.

“You could.” My voice is quiet. Because it’s true. He could hurt me.

“I wouldn’t. I’m not a monster, Aria,” he says.

I believe him. I do. But there’s a little voice in the back of my head warning me to keep my guard up when it comes to Santo De Bellis. “Okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thrown the lid at you.”

“No, you should have aimed better and actually hit me. If you’re going to throw shit at people, make sure you hit 'em,” he says. “We can work on your aim.”

“Most people aren’t ninjas. They can’t duck and avoid things that are flying at them,” I huff. He moved so damn fast. If he didn’t move, it would have hit him.

“You think I’m a ninja?” He chuckles.

“You move like one.”

Just to prove my point, Santo takes two steps forward and picks me up. Spinning around before setting my ass on the benchtop. This all happens within seconds, and I feel a little dizzy. He then spreads my thighs apart, steps between them, and just when I think he’s about to kiss me again, he steps back. “You need to pack. Gio’s planning a party for us.”

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