“Answer, Little Dove,” I whisper in her ear.

She squeezes her eyes shut, then nods. “I do.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Until death do you part. You may kiss the bride.” He takes a slight bow. “Congratulations.”

My body reacts before my brain can object. I cup her face and press my lips to hers. Her mouth is the oasis in the middle of the desert. I drink from her with all the desperation of a dying man. Our marriage is a colossal mistake, but I can’t help taking this much from her.

The cheering around us brings me back to reality. I pull away first. Paloma’s cheeks turn bright red, as she slowly opens her eyes. And there is it again, she wants me. Fuck she wants me as much as I want her. But the sooner she understands this is not going to be a real marriage, the better.

“A toast to the newlyweds.” Santino raises his glass. “Congratulations. Welcome to the club.”

“We need to get going. We have a bit of drive ahead of us.” I shake Santino’s hand. “Thanks for everything. I will be in touch about the other matter.”

“It’s yours when you’re ready.” He pats my shoulder.

“I’m ready.” I shoot a quick glance over to Paloma, who is now surrounded by Luce, Caterina, Dr. Salvatore, and Pinna.

“Caterina hosted a Girls’ Night In tonight. They were still here when you called earlier,” Santino explains. “I figured it would be good for your bride to have some women here.”

“You were right. Thanks.” I shift my attention to Rex. “My apologies for barging in.”

“I blame Santino for this.” He glares at his friend for a beat before he lifts his chin toward the women. “Caterina is enjoying herself. So all is well for me.”

While the women take Paloma back upstairs to change. I drink two more whiskeys. Anything to drown this guilt gnawing at me. When she finally returns, I utter one last thank you and escort Paloma to the elevator bay on Rex’s penthouse floor. Now that she’s wearing slippers instead of ballet shoes, she’s able to walk without wincing in pain. How the Senator let her participate in the auction knowing she was dehydrated and exhausted is beyond me. Did he do it to ensure she wouldn’t have the mind or the energy to protest, or worse, escape?

“Where are you taking me?” She breaks the silence first after the driver shuts the car door.

“Home.” I turn my head toward her.

“To my father’s?” she asks, and her eyes immediately fill with hope.

“No.” I adjust my weight on the back seat of the limo. “My home in Bedford.”

“Will I be able to see Dad?” she asks.

I hate that after all he’s done, she still loves him and worries about him. He doesn’t deserve her. Same as me.

“No.” I shake my head.

“Why not?” She fires back. “You can’t keep me away from my family.”

“Why not?” I shift my body to face her properly, and hope my eyes show how much I hate our situation. “Because I didn’t just spend six million dollars to share you with the world.” Especially not him. “You’re mine. You will live in my house and forget you ever had a family.” I don’t even bother mentioning the boyfriend. I made my point earlier when she called him.

“So, I’m your prisoner now? You can’t do that.” She furrows her brows.

“Who’s going to stop me?” I raise an eyebrow. “Your little boyfriend, Hunter? Chuck?” I let out a dark laugh. “They had every chance to stop that farce back at the theatre and they chose not to. Think about that. Did Hunter get off watching all those men lust over you, throwing their money away to get a taste of you?”

She slaps me again. “You’re a beast.” She fists her hands and hits me square in the chest.

I grip both her wrists, wrap my arms around her waist, and pull her to me so she lands straddling my lap. Her eyes grow wide in surprise when my hard cock presses against her ass. She makes to break free, but I hold her in place.

“They didn’t throw their money away. You’re the one who was crazy enough to actually pay?” She presses her lips together. Her chest rises and falls with every ragged breath.

“Yes, because unlike them, I’ve already had a taste of you. I’m already addicted to you.” I pant a breath.

Her body trembles. And I know it’s her pent-up desire doing this to her. But it’s only because she doesn’t understand the kind of monster I’ve become since we met. Maybe I can find redemption in her by keeping her safe, away from a world that only wantsto lock her away, the way one does with pretty things. The irony is not lost on me. But it’s too late to try and undo it all.

“This will not be a real marriage, Little Dove. So stop looking at me like that,” I murmur.