Page 53 of Brutal Vows

“I warned you,piccola cerva,” I whisper in her ear.

Gia kicks out, trying to get away from me, but it doesn’t work. It doesn’t take much for me to haul her away from the edge of the dance floor. She pushes and claws at my arms, but I don’t budge. She might as well be a kitten clawing at a full-grown lion. Soon, I’ve led us out of the club and down the quiet back hallway I came from.

“Put me down,” she shouts, her words echoing against the empty walls. Ignoring her, I push open the door to the office I met with Liam in earlier, knowing he won’t mind if I use it. It is also the only room without a camera. The only person going to see my wife’s naked ass is me.

“You are going to learn what it means to obey, Gia,” I tell her, kicking the door close and locking it with a flick of my fingers. I carry her to one side of the room, where two leather chairs sit to one side, and drop her to her feet.

“Fuck you, Vitali!” She screams at me, immediately backing away when I advance toward her.

“Cursing isn’t going to help you, wife.”

“Go to hell.”

A dark smile curves my lips, and I take a menacing step toward her.

“I’ll be taking you with me.”

Twenty-Nine

That isn’t goingto happen.

When it comes to flight or fight, I’m going to fly far away from here. Without thinking about the consequences, I bolt for the door, but Vitali is faster. With a dark chuckle, he lunged at me, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward one of the leather chairs sitting in the office.

“Bend your ass over the back of the chair.” He gently shoves me toward where he wants me.

Nope. Absolutely not. No way in hell am I allowing him to punish me again. Last night one was one thing but fuck him if he thinks I am going to let him belt me like some errant child.

A pained gasp leaves my lips when his hand wraps mercilessly in my hair, wrapping around the smooth strands, and forcing my neck as back as it will go. His eyes are narrow slits of anger, and they are fixated on me.

“You have no idea the kind of danger you put yourself in by coming here tonight,” he snarls. “Anything could have happened. Rapists. Muggers. Your father’s men.” His free hand comes up to wrap around the delicate column of mythroat. “This could have gone so much better if you had listened to me, Gia.” He tightens his grip, squeezing just enough to get his message across.

“I won’t be made a fool of,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. Fuck, I hate crying, and no matter how hard I try to keep them from falling, a traitorous few escapes.

“I already explained what I was doing here. You simply don’t want to listen,” he chastises me. “If you would have come home with me without the tantrum, we could have talked it over.”

He releases my hair but the hand on my throat moves to the back of my neck. He pushed me forward, bending me over the low-back leather chair.

“Now you get to learn that I am a man of my word, Gia.”

I press my hand into the worn cushion before me, the fabric crinkling under my grip as I long to hide my face in an avalanche of shame. Deep down, I know Vitali’s words have a trace of truth, yet a stubborn part of me refuses to face that truth. I took a risk tonight—my mind clouded by desperation—and all I could see was the image of Vitali wrapped up in some blonde club bimbo while I sat alone in our dim apartment, abandoned.

The harsh reality of the mafia world rings in my ears. Men like him chase fleeting pleasures without a trace of loyalty. He doesn’t love me. Our union is nothing more than a revenge plot. Where does that leave me when he is done taking back his throne? Just because he took my virginity and made a show of being loving this morning doesn’t mean he won’t cheat on me.

“I’m sorry, Vitali,” I whisper hoarsely.

“I accept your apology, little deer,” he replies, his tone deceptively gentle, but it is laced with an undeniablefinality. “But that won’t get you out of your punishment. Now, lift your dress.”

When I don’t immediately comply, he tugs sharply on my hair.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he commands, his grip firm enough to erase any thought of defiance.

Tears blur my vision as I reluctantly gather the fabric of my dress, scrunching it around my waist. I flinch with every jangle of the belt buckle—a sound that cuts through the silence like a cold warning. Vitali’s hand glides down my back in an odd moment of tenderness, as if to soothe the storm gathering within me even as I brace for the coming pain.

I take a shaky, uneven breath as silence falls between us. I wonder if he has changed his mind. That maybe he is just making a point, or he knows he is going to regret what he is about to do.

Then, the air shatters with the sound of leather slicing the space as it descends. A searing lash lands across both cheeks and a harsh scream bursts from my throat, raw and desperate. Each subsequent blow sends torrents of burning pain radiating along my skin, transforming my soft flesh into a canvas of agony. I go limp, crumping against the back of the chair, sobs wracking my body as I plead desperately for him to stop.

“Shit! Please, Vitali, stop!” I rasp between my gasps, each word laced with pain. “It hurts.” My cries for mercy spill out. A broken litany of apologies and admissions of fault that blend with the harsh, stinging swats landing on the tender skin where my thighs meet the curve of my ass.

---