Page 43 of Devilish Prince

Turning down another hallway in this sprawling mansion, my mind shifts to Calvin. Lorenzo is such an ass for pinning my love for my brother against his threats to wed him or else. If I don’t give in and marry the bastard, Calvin will never get entered into that trial, and I’ll never know if he could regain his ability to walk. He’s all I really have, and I promised him a long time ago I’d never stop trying, that I would do what it takes to make sure he can walk again. Is this what it will take?

The doorknob clicks beneath my hand as I turn it. Calvin’s eyes shoot my direction as I step into his room. He’s seated in his chair near the window. His nurse isn’t here, though I was shocked to find Lorenzo had paid her a very hefty sum to come along with us. She believes this to be a vacation for the family and a happy event. I’ve been threatened to keep it that way.

“Hey…” I shut the door behind myself and join him, resting on the window seat. The thin foam cushion is covered in more cream and floral upholstery, just another disgusting bit of lavish interior decorating that makes me hate this place. This window overlooks an expanse of lawn where the pool and hot tub bask in sunlight. The entire place feels more like a Tuscan resort than a home, but I suppose this is how billionaires live.

“How are you? You look tired.” Talking is the one thing Calvin can still do—that and feel. He loves me, but I can’t let him get involved in this. Lorenzo will only use my brother’s compassion against me.

“It’s jet lag.” I smile at him and pat his knee. He has some mild sensation in his lower extremities but cannot move them at all.

“Where’s the nurse?” The cavernous room feels warm but empty at the same time. Calvin’s four-poster bed is made, though it still remains in the upright position. Yet another expense not spared for Calvin at the hand of Lorenzo. He thinks I paid extra to have this special multi-position bed brought into our vacation villa. It’s a silver lining to the charade Lorenzo is pulling. Calvin feels we’re better off than we are and has relaxed a bit with his stance of feeling like a burden.

“She went for my afternoon meds….” He narrows his eyes. “There’s something else.” If he could capture gaze and force me to look at him he would, but I stare out over the lawn and watch birds flit about.

My mind goes to the threats again. Lorenzo will make sure Calvin gets no treatment if I rebel against him. But if I go along with him, agree to marry him… Calvin will get his treatment, and I can always divorce him later. Right? But Antonio never held up his end of the bargain. The large donations never came, at least not to my knowledge. Yes, I was hidden away for a while, but I doubt he even cares. These men get what they want and they kill whoever stands in their way.

“What do you think about me getting married?” I refuse to look at Calvin. I don’t want him to see the trepidation in my eyes. Marrying Lorenzo isn’t high on my “want to” list, but if it meansCalvin gets the treatment, it will be worth it. I’d happily throw my reputation in the shitter for him.

I turn to look in his eyes and he asks, “Is it something you want to do? Are you in love?”

My heart swells at his question because I love someone so deeply I’d die for them. It’s just not the man who will force me to marry him. Or maybe there is some bit of a connection there, as perverted and polluted as that may seem, but it’s not the type of love that spans the ages, that sweeps you off your feet and makes you see stars.

“Yes.” I answer simply, because the reason I would marry him is for love. Because I love my brother more than my own life.

“You want to be married?”

If marriage is synonymous with Calvin’s healing, then emphatically, yes. “I do.”

“And it’s the man, the stern one who paid for this trip?” Calvin’s eyes search me and I keep my expression placid so I don’t alarm him.

“Yes,” I say, nodding. “Lorenzo.”

For years, my brother has been isolated from just about everything. He doesn’t care about the news or local headlines. He knows nothing of Lorenzo Gatti and the life of organized crime I will be marrying into. I want to keep it that way.

“Then I approve.” He smiles at me, and I only wish the smile I give him in return was real.

This isn’t at all how I envisioned my future, marrying against my will, and god only knows what will happen next. Will I be forcedto give up my career? Birth his heirs? Will he even stay faithful to me? Or am I just one of his whores? Is he fucking that wedding planner right now?

My cheeks burn and I turn and watch the birds outdoors again. I’ll marry him, but only for Calvin’s sake.

My brother is worth this, and if I have to tell myself that a million times, I will. It’s what motivates me to move forward.

28

LORENZO

The plans for the wedding are finalized; I sent the planner away once she finally got my message and understood that I was in charge. Though, it took a bit of coaxing to get her out of her shell once Sofia left the room. The woman shook like a leaf in the wind and I didn’t fault her. I’m a terrifying man. Sofia put on a good show for her too, letting me fuck her so roughly over the back of that couch. Adelina couldn’t stop staring at the blood on the couch. I even caught her looking at the blood stain on my slacks too.

Now, with the ceremony set and everything prepared, I have one last thing to handle, and that is to ensure Sofia won’t give me any trouble. It would be a shame if I had to put her in her place in front of so many people at our nuptials, and in such a public way. Rome should be a good experience for her, not humiliation. It’s up to her however.

I make my way through the house with Lord at my heels. He’s been following me everywhere since we got here and I don’t mind. Norman was a good soldier, and I regret having to punish him in such a drastic way but if I show myself as a weak man I’llbe walked on. He understood that. I saved his life, and he served me for a time, and then I took it. Plain and simple.

“Wait here,” I tell Lord as I come to my bedroom door. I know Sofia is here. I have cameras on every square inch of this place because the wall paper alone is worth thousands of dollars. I value the things I own, and Sofia is one of them.

Lord lingers outside the door as I let myself in. The room is empty, but the bathroom light is on. I hear soft music playing from the bathroom too, and I know she must be there. I slip out of my soiled pants, preferring a pair of drawstring pajama pants for comfort. And I leave my shirt and jacket in the hamper in my closet as I pull a t-shirt on. There, in the hamper, I see Sofia’s jeans and blouse, panties too. And the scrap of cloth I used to help enforce my authority is doused in blood, tossed in the wastebasket by the nightstand. I imagine the scent of her arousal on it and pause there to think about how she felt as I drove that swatch into her tight pussy. So good, so hot.

I hear water slosh and my ears tune into it. Sofia is in the bath, how nice. I head that way, ready to have the discussion with her, well, more of an announcement. It’s not like she gets a say in this anyway. She will marry me and then we will return to New York as one, and I will make decisions for her that suit my needs. It’s that simple.

I walk around the bed and step into the doorway to the bathroom. I push the door open all the way and lean on the doorframe. Sofia looks up at me with melancholy eyes. A glass of wine sits on the stand next to the claw-foot tub. Her eyes look glassy, as if she’s had a fair bit to drink already. Then I spot the half-empty bottle on the sink. Her body is mostly submerged, hidden beneath a thin layer of bubbles that float on the surface, as if hiding from me.

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