Page 15 of The Vatican
I never saw it coming.
His hand was around my throat and my body was bent over the back of the couch. My hands shot up and latched onto his wrist, wondering if he was going to kill me.
But, instead, he went right for where it hurts most for women. “I’ve been busy fucking other women.”
The bottom of my stomach fell out, and, in that moment, I knew true hate. Francisco Benetti was a fucking asshole, and there was no way I was going to marry him.
Tears sprang up behind my eyes, and they were a combination of everything I was feeling. “Get out,” I spewed. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, Benetti.”
“Not on your life, Fiore,” he flung back.
He had no idea who he was messing with.
Chapter 8
Francisco~
The words had felt like poison on my tongue, but it hurt like a sonofabitch to be reminded that other men have experienced her when it should have only been me. And it hurt like a motherfucker to know that it was all by my own hand. I should have stepped up to our parents and done the right thing for us instead of the sensible thing for them.
“You are mine,” I repeated. “And it doesn’t matter if you want to be or not, Fiore. It’s been decided.” And because I seemed to be the only one who didn’t underestimate this woman, I let go of her neck and caught her fist coming at me from the right.
But it didn’t stop there.
Saveria came after me with everything our fathers had ever taught her, and I was doing my best to deflect every debilitating blow without hurting her. There was no crying or screaming or carrying on. Saveria was fighting me like the skilled fighter she was.
She was fucking glorious.
Furniture turned over. Lamps shattered across the floor. Paintings fell from the walls. And the only reason Mica wasn’t in here putting a bullet through my head was because I had met with him before knocking on the door, letting him know things might get ugly. I knew Dante wasn’t home, so I wasn’t worried about us dancing around on his ceiling, causing him concern.
It wasn’t until I noticed the glass everywhere that I finally put a stop to it. She was going to get hurt, and I couldn’t have that.
I caught her wrist and wrapped my other arm around her waist. I slammed her on the couch, and because I was twice her height and probably three times her weight, she was no match for me once I covered her body with mine, pinning her to the cushions.
Saveria still fought like a wildcat, but she couldn’t buck me with all my weight pressed down on top of her. I waited her out, and soon she quit struggling. Her chest was heaving, and her face was red, but I’d bet that was more from anger than physical exertion. Like the rest of us, she’d been trained to fight proper, and she had the stamina to back up the moves.
I looked down into a face too beautiful to be mortal and asked, “Are you done?”
“Get off me,” she seethed.
I knew it was a wrong move, but I was still pissed, and this girl was a warrior. If I didn’t exert my dominance on her, she’d walk all over me. “I don’t think so,” I replied. “And you should probably get used to this view, baby, because we’re going to be in this position almost every fucking night if I have anything to say about.”
If I hadn’t had her hands pinned above her head, she’d claw my eyes out, no doubt. “I’m not marrying you, Benetti,” she spat. “You’re out of your mind if you think I am.”
“It’s me or it’s no one,” I told her plainly. “If you refuse to marry me, then you can kiss your dreams of children goodbye.” I knew she wanted kids. I’ve known it since we were little when she used to play dress up with her dolls.
“Get off me,” she demanded again, ignoring how much of a dick I was being.
Then, to prove my point home, I wedged my hips in between her legs, forcing her shirt to ride up. Her panties were her only shield of protection against anything I wanted to do to her. I pushed up, and if I thought she looked hateful before, she looked like she loathed me now.
I leaned down and nipped at her chin. “I don’t think so.”
Her voice sounded like icicles dripping with contempt. “I thought you had other women for this.” In that moment, I knew I was going to regret ever saying such a thing to her for the rest of my life. She was never going to let go of those words, and I had no one to blame but myself.
I pulled back and looked into those rare-colored eyes of hers and told her the truth. “I did. But I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, Fiore.” I purposely used the word ‘did’, so she’d know I was done with that shit. She was going to be my wife, and she was the only woman I would ever fuck again.
“Well, that’s just too damn bad,” she tossed back. “If you think you’re the best I’ve ever had, you’re wrong, Benetti. And I won’t settle for mediocre for the rest of my life.” Things were getting uglier by the second as she kept going straight for my balls. “I want to marry aman,” she continued. “Preferably, one who knows how to fuck.”
I wanted to kill her, but I knew she was only reacting to my barb about fucking other women. I fucking knew it, but her words still left their marks.
