Page 25 of Massimo

"The fuck I'm not," I snarl.

I'm not, but I'm past the point of no-return. This is a battle of wills. This woman may have stripped me of my calm and control, but she will not strip me of this win.

I fist the material of the halter portion of her romper and jerk, tearing the material at the back of her neck. I yank the material down, baring her breasts—her goddamn perfect small globes with rosy areolas.

"I said fuckingstrip."

Her tears are silent as they stream down her ashen cheeks.

Her eyes and face have completely shuttered.

Her shoulders round forward, and her head drops.

Her hair has come out of its messy bun and falls to shield her face.

With a choked sob, she pushes the torn romper down over her hips. It falls and pools around her feet.

She stands before me, a beautiful vision. Broken, but not the way I intended.

A toxic brew of lust and disgust for myself explode, painting my insides with noxious venom.

Her sex is completely bared—to me and of hair.

More lust and disgust pulse through me like an artery spurting blood.

"Did you shave your pussy for your husband-to-be, the ultimate monster, Julien Moreau,princess?" Rage adds to the venomous concoction flowing inside me. "Were you excited to fuck him and give him your virginity?"

Her only answer is a shattered sob as her body shakes violently.

I feel ill. Sick. Yes, I'm beyond frustrated because this didn't work, but I'm not this man. I'm not this kind of monster.

I am shaking, maybe almost as hard as her. "Get dressed," I rasp, hardly able to get the words out. She doesn't move, so I yank open the buttons of my jacket. "Get dressed!"

She jerks. Then, on unsteady legs, her trembling body bends down to pull the romper back up. The ends are torn. I don't know if she'll be able to tie them around the back of her neck to hold the top up.

She's so pale.

And there's still no fight in her.

She's still winning. Playing you for a fool.

Iknowshe's not this meek and mild version she's portraying.

I shrug out of my jacket and toss it at her, but it lands at her feet. That small gesture, that bit of warmth, will be all I'm willing to give her.

I slam the door, lock it, and storm back up the stairs. Gabe waits for me.

"My gym." I point toward the back of the house. "Right fucking now."

I need to fight this frustration,disgust, and hate out, and Gabe is the unlucky bastard who will be my opponent.

Chapter 13

Massimo

IgroanasIroll over. Every part of my body hurts—my head the worst.

Gabe didn't hold back last night. I suspect he poured every ounce of disapproval of how I was handling shit with Nova into every punch and kick.

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