Page 34 of Dark Mafia Vows

Her words send laughter spilling from my lips. The sound bounces through the walls, and her nostrils flare as her anger intensifies.

“Is that so?” I challenge, my smirk fading as I step closer, closing the distance. A rush of adrenaline courses through me as I feel her heat and inhale her scent.

She raises her chin, defiance and anger strong in her features. “You’re a piece of shit, Dario. Forcing my brother into signing whatever this is? That’s a new low, even for someone as despicable as you!”

Every sliver of amusement drops as I take another step toward her.

Without turning back to look at Lorenzo, I order, “Leave us.”

The tone of my voice leaves no room for argument, and he hesitates before reluctantly walking toward the front door.

As the door clicks shut. I step closer to Ginny. “What did you just say? Repeat it,” I demand, my voice low and intense.

She stands her ground. “You’re nothing but a bully.”

“Bully?” I scoff, stepping even closer. “I’m offering your shitty family a way out, and you treat it like a curse? This is the thanks I get? You should know better than to speak that way to someone who clearly holds your future—and your family’s—in his hands.”

“And you should know by now that I’m not scared of you,” she hisses as I continue to advance toward her.

“Really? Maybe you should be.”

A flicker of uncertainty crosses her eyes as she sees that I’m not stopping. She moves back as I march forward. Her eyes dart to the wall behind her, and knowing that she’s about to be cornered, she dashes to the corner.

That’s before I grab her elbow and pull her right where I want her.

“Let me go,” she fumes as I press her back against the wall and position myself directly before her.

“You know, you could be a little nicer,” I snarl, repeating her message from earlier. “Do you think you can manage that, Princess?”

“Fuck you, Dario,” her chest rises and falls.

I’m hit with a thick sense of Deja vu. How many times have I had her close? Felt her warm breath against my skin? Heard her heartbeat thumping beneath her skin, and resisted the urge to kiss every inch of her body? How many times have our arguments turned into heated conversations and restrained lust?

“You shouldn’t say those words to me, Ginny,” I rasp, brushing her cheeks with the back of my fingers. “It always gets me so fucking hard.”

Her breath catches as her lips part slightly, but she says nothing. She says nothing, staring up at me with eyes filled with a mix of anger and something else—something deeper and more intense. It’s a gaze reserved just for me, one that can only be found in the darkest corners of her eyes, hidden within the depths of her soul.

My heart pounds faster as I lean down, my gaze never leaving hers, watching each of the minute expressions flicker across her face, trying to capture them all on paper and memorizing their nuances so I don’t forget a single thing about her.

The deep flush on her cheeks, the pink tinge to her lips, the way her long eyelashes flutter with desire as my face hovers directly over hers.

A small gasp escapes from her parted lips when I slide my hands along her waist, pulling her closer to me. Her breasts brush against my chest, and I inhale sharply when I feel her hardened nipples through my shirt.

“You claim you hate me, yet you respond to my touch,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss her exposed shoulder. “Your body always reacts to me,” I add, sucking gently on the soft spot between her shoulder blades.

She shudders under my mouth, and the soft gasp that escapes her mouth sends warmth down to my dick.

The anger in her eyes is still palpable, but so is the undeniable lust and tension between us. My heart raves with the primal urge to press my lips against hers, taste the passion on her tongue, and hold her firmly while she trembles from the pleasure I could give her.

“You don’t get to decide my future.” She breathes heavily.

Gritting my teeth, I pull away from her, forcing myself to take several steps backwards and create some distance.

“Actually, I do,” I reply, my tone firm. “Starting now, as a matter of fact. You’re moving into my house tomorrow. Get your things ready.”

Her mouth drops open in shock, her eyes narrowing as she struggles to find words. I tug at my tie, feeling the fabric constrict around my throat. The silence stretches, thick with simmering tension.

I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t just about revenge anymore—there’s something deeper at play. As I watch her, I see the fading bruises on her arms, and anger surges within me once more. The thought of Esteban’s hands on her makes my blood boil, and I wish I could make him suffer endlessly.

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