Page 46 of Devilish Prince

I blink a few times and roll over to find Lorenzo standing in the door to his private bathroom. He wears only a towel draped around his waist and tucked into itself. The way his body is chiseled from training, you’d almost never know he had been shot a few months ago. Only the brightness of the pink scar running down his chest reminds me of that. Those were better days—before I met him.

“It’s our wedding night,” he says gruffly, dropping his towel. He climbs into the bed with me and slides beneath the covers. His cock presses against my ass but I turn away from him, uninterested. I say nothing.

I stare at the wall blankly, wondering if he will keep his promise now. Since the moment I learned my parents had died and that Calvin was barely hanging on to life, I have taken care of my brother and put him first. Fucking the Devil was never supposed to be part of that, but I’ve been his whore for months now, addicted to his cock. Only, now that I’m married to him and it’smy right as a wife to seek pleasure from his body, I want nothing to do with him. The risk and thrill are gone. The fight just left me. I don’t want it anymore.

Lorenzo’s hand pushes between my thighs, searching for my moisture, but it isn’t there. I’m lethargic, unmotivated. He rubs my clit while grinding on my backside, and all I can do is lie here and pray he makes it fast.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asks, grabbing my hip so hard I wince.

“Ow!”

He turns me over and rises up over me, pinning me down with his hips. His hands grab my wrists and push them against my chest. “We’re married, so now you don’t fight me? You agreed to this.”

I turn my head away from him and close my eyes. “Get it over with,” I mutter, only to receive a hard smack to the cheek before he climbs off the bed.

He paces the floor at the foot of the bed and I pull the blankets back over my body. I have no intention of giving him the satisfaction of fucking him the way he likes. If he wants it he will have to take it. I watch him, though, hard dick going limper with each step. Maybe he’s realizing that I’m not his toy, or maybe he’s having a heartfelt revelation that he’s been treating me horribly.

Or maybe he is planning my murder. I don’t care. As long as Calvin gets on that plane; that’s all that matters.

“What the fuck is wrong?” He stops and stares at me with an angry glare etched on his face.

“Is Calvin on the plane?” I blink slowly again and he huffs.

“On the way to the airport. I don’t break my word. When I say I’m going to do something I fucking do it.”

Part of me feels a semblance of relief from him that he is keeping his word. I know he’s not the monster his father is, but he isn’t a saint either. Deep down I wonder if he knows the right thing, or if being raised by a maniacal sadist has warped his ability to empathize with others. After all, he did protect me, even if those attacks were staged to make me afraid. And he may get rough during sex, but he has never hurt me.

I slowly get to my knees beneath the blanket and toss it back, putting my ass in the air. I bury my face in the pillow and wait for him, but I grow cold and start shivering and he never touches me. I look over my shoulder at his scowl.

“Is this what you want?”

“No, that’s not what I want….” He glares at me and walks to his dresser where he pulls out some shorts and a t-shirt. He dresses hastily as I roll back to my side and cover up. “You know, you ought to be a bit more thankful for what I’m doing for you.”

“You don’t get it do you?” I ask, clutching the blanket to my chest. I see confusion mixed with rage in his gaze before he storms out and slams the door.

A draft created by his movement breezes over me and I shiver and snuggle farther under the blanket and cry softly. Calvin is where he’s supposed to be now. That is the only important thing. The rest of this is just something I have to tolerate until hopefully one day I’m reunited with him.

Hopefully…

30

LORENZO

It’s been three days and Sofia is unanimated—lethargic. She hardly gets out of bed except to use the toilet and eat. The melancholy in her eyes exhausts me. I keep to myself. I have far too much to do to coddle her fragile emotions. She’ll learn soon enough that the wife of the mafia prince has to have a backbone of steel, and as of right now she’s a limp jellyfish.

Standing on the patio overlooking the gardens, I breathe in the warm summer air. It’s nice to get away from the city and return to my roots here in Rome for a while, but I can’t stay forever. My father will have work for me, and if I remain here, my men will forget who I am and things will go awry. But I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, and when it’s time, I’ll return with my bride.

My phone rings and I reach into my pocket to answer it. “This is Lorenzo.”

“Signor Gatti, it’s the hospital. We received word that Calvin has arrived and his trial is scheduled to begin tomorrow morning. We wanted to let you know so that you can make arrangements for Sofia accordingly. She may wish to receive regular updates about his progress.”

"Thank you for the update. I appreciate the call. And my special arrangements... have they been sorted out with Dr. Kline?" The sun is setting in the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the gardens and its inhabitants—the birds flitting from tree to tree.

The man on the other end of the line pauses before responding. "Yes, Signor Gatti, we have arranged everything according to your instructions. Our guest is in the air now and expected to land at LaGuardia in seven hours."

I nod in approval, thankful for their thoughtfulness and attention to detail. "Thank you very much for your help. Please let me know if there is anything else I should be aware of or if there are any changes in Calvin's condition."

"Of course, Signor Gatti," he responds with a reassuring tone. "We will keep you updated on any changes and take care of everything."

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