Page 16 of Corrupting Lily

His scent envelops me as he leans forward. His large hands grip the sides of my chair, pulling me closer until I am facing him. Our eyes lock, and he raises an eyebrow before pointing to my leg.

“You’re hurt. Let me see.” I blush and glance around the table,discovering that everyone's eyes are cast down, and no one is paying attention to this little interaction. Even Matteo, beside me, is looking away. The mysterious woman directly across from me is the only one who dares to meet my gaze.

“Eyes on me,il mio fiorellino.” Dominico's softly spoken yet commanding words echo through the room, and I notice the woman's shoulders stiffen as I shift my gaze back to him.

He leans slightly back and taps his thigh. I know what he wants, and instead of refusing, I comply in hopes of getting this awkward situation over with as quickly as possible. I gradually lift my leg and place it where his fingers had tapped moments before. The action is painful, but I conceal it, not wanting this situation to escalate.

His large hand engulfs my ankle, and I shiver at the contact, goosebumps erupting at the meeting point and then spreading like a rash. Painfully slow, his hand travels up my calf. All the while, his eyes remain locked with mine, and even with everyone in this room, the moment's intimacy comes crashing down on me, stealing my breath. It is erotic. This dangerous man touching me so gently is intoxicating.

His hand reaches the hem of my dress, traveling higher so that the fabric gathers as it shifts. His touch is a whisper against the skin of my knee, and his thumb, grazing my inner thigh, leaves my mouth dry.

“Breathe.” I blink a couple of times before obeying, inhaling deeply and running my tongue over my dry lips, the action noted by his eagle eyes. Why is it so hot in here?

“What happened?” His question reminds me of why I am in this position in the first place. When I glance down, I see that the swelling has not diminished.

“I fell out of bed and landed awkwardly,” I attempt to explain, keeping my voice low as I speak. No one in the room is talking, and I suspect they are all trying to listen to what is happening here.

“Mmmm.” He considers me for what feels like an eternity, my blush deepening under his gaze as if he were a flame and I a coal. My existence in relation to him feels that way, as though he possesses the power to consume me until I am nothing but ash. I would probably even relish it, unaware of my demise until it was too late.

Then he moves, all of it happening in the blink of an eye. My dress is back in place, and his arms gently snake under my legs and across my back. Suddenly, we are up as if my weight, from sitting to standing, is nothing. Not to mention, everyone at the table is now on their feet.

“Get the vehicle. We will go to Agathas.” Matteo follows the instructions and quickly exits the main hall door.

I stare up at the man whose arms around me now feel more natural than they should, then my gaze dips to where my hands rest around his neck. He is so strong, so muscular. The desire to caress him is so intense that I must consciously fight against it.

“If you keep looking at me like that,il mio fiorellino, I will find another way to distract you from the pain.” My eyes widen at his words, and I squeeze my thighs together, the action causing him to smirk.

Dangerous. This man was potentially even more dangerous to me than my ex. While my ex could destroy me mentally and physically, what Dominico could do to me is perhaps even worse. He could utterly devastate me emotionally.

No. I could not let it happen, especially with a man I know is using me. I would have to resist. The walls I had built around my heart needed reinforcement. There's no way I could allow a man like Dominico to breach them.

I witnessed the effects of love and wanted no part of it ever again.

Resolute, I close my eyes, urging myself to ignore him. To revert to my previous state.

A shell. A nobody.

Chapter 12

Dominico

It is worse than I thought. The doctor explains the backlit X-rays in his office, highlighting Lily's numerous injuries from the last couple of years. A broken arm. Three broken fingers. Fractures throughout her body, including her ribs, ankles, wrists, and clavicle. Then there are the visible injuries that I have already seen, which the doctor indicates are so extensive that it is one of the worst cases of abuse he has encountered—something a doctor has remarked about me before. However, the latest scars from being Don and bringing thefamigliainto the powerful position we are in now overshadow those injuries.

What is also surprising is that while most of these injuries are new, some of them are older—much older—from when she was young.

"The nurse is administering a corticosteroid injection, and I will provide you with a prescription for anti-inflammatory medications. She requires physiotherapy. I can arrange for someone to meet with her twice a week.” I give a curt nod, and the doctor immediately picks up the phone to make the necessary arrangements.

This concerns the injury that has brought us here—a historical kneecap fracture accompanied by severe post-traumatic osteoarthritis. The doctor states that the ligaments and tendons damaged in the incident that caused this injury never healed properly, and long-term corrective surgery may be necessary if physiotherapy does not yield results.

While the details of this injury remain uncertain, I am aware of who is behind it and the rest. The slowly simmering rage that has built since I saw Lily limp into the hall this morning has reached a boiling point as I stand, staring at the evidence of the abuse that little Lily Valentine has been forced to endure. It's no wonder she sought refuge in the dark. And there is no darker place to be than with me.

Matteo, who I want to kill for even allowing her to walk down the stairs in that state and then deigning to put his hand on her back, stands slightly behind me. Still alive, for now. I knew it was irrational to feel the amount of jealousy I had felt seeing another man's hand on a woman I barely know, but it was fucking there. And while it was, no man would touch her. Friend or foe.

The disgust on his face as the doctor recounted Lily’s injury history helped to quell my anger toward him. The silent implications of what had happened to her, the stark reality of her abuse staring back at us in such an intimate way, made it difficult for anyone not to react. To see the history of someone etched deep into their bones. To truly see inside them in this manner. It was surreal. And rage-inducing.

We did not abuse women. That shit stopped with the man I called father. When I was old enough, he never laid another finger on my mother. It was why I always had such a low opinion of him. Of anyone who did that. To me, they were lower than the gutter rats that fed on the dead bodies in the warehouse. It was also why I was vehemently against this sex trafficking ring that was taking over my city. Abuseof women and children was a hard limit for me, one I would kill to eradicate. The mafia might be monsters, but we were a different kind, and we had some scruples.

“Dante is here.” Matteo’s words coincide with the door to the consulting room swinging open as my capo enters, leaving a herd of giggling nursing staff and even some patients in his wake. The ladies adored this man—tall, dark, and handsome, with a smile as lethal as his skills with a knife. This is probably why I have kept him far from Lily. Until now.

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