Page 10 of Cruel Heir

Andre looks at me, a satisfied smile curling his lips. “What?” he murmurs, drawing me closer as he rests a hand on my waist. “Don’t you want to kiss me, my darling bride?”

I look at him with as much defiance as I can muster, and he laughs, the sound low and predatory. “Alright then.” He shrugs, raising an eyebrow. “After all, what I want from you tonight doesn’t require me to kiss you at all. If you prefer it that way.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper desperately. “My father will challenge this. And the Church will listen. He’s the head of the mafia. He has his hands in every pocket, even theirs. You won’t get away with this.” I look at the priest, desperate for some sign that I’m right. That no matter what Andre does to me, there’s some way that this can be challenged.

But the priest’s face is utterly blank. He motions to the paper on the desk, and I get the impression that he wants to be done with this and on his way as soon as possible. Andre steps up to the desk, signing his name with a flourish, and I look numbly at the piece of paper. I think of the number of steps between where I’m standing and the front door, of the security guards Andre must have who would come after me, of the utter futility of trying to run. I don’t even really know where I am, or exactly how far I am from home.

So I step forward, next to my newhusband, and I sign the paper too. My hand shakes, sending the signature scrawling across the line, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not as if I’ve ever been asked to sign anything before. There’s no signature anyone could compare it to, to see if it holds up.

“Very good.” Andre looks at the priest. “Is there anything else you need to make it official, Father?”

The priest hesitates, sliding the paper back into the folio, and forone wild moment, I think that maybe he’s changed his mind. That maybe he’s going to help me after all.

But then he shakes his head. “No, Mr. Leone. I think that will be all.”

I can’t fully describe the way my heart sinks as I hear that. I stare helplessly after the priest as he walks out, escorted away by James, who is standing just outside. I feel my face heat at the thought that James heard my screams and begging earlier, and grow hotter at the thought of what else the staff might hear later. Fear curdles in the pit of my stomach.Will Andre hurt me? What will he do?Knowing now that he took me out of a desire for some kind of revenge, I can’t imagine what he might have in store for me tonight.

The act of losing my virginity is nerve-wracking enough. No one has ever told me how it really goes, aside from the most basic of principles. I’ve been kept utterly sheltered when it comes to such things, and so my wedding night would have been anxiety-inducing even with the sort of proper husband that my father would have chosen for me. But this—

I can’t breathe as Andre turns to look at me. “I’ve half a mind to put you on your knees in front of the fireplace and take you there,” he murmurs, reaching up to brush his thumb over my cheekbone. “But like I said in the garden, I plan to do this all properly. For tonight, at least. So let’s go upstairs, darling wife.” The last is said with that same sneering curl of his lip as his hand presses against my cheek, his other hand on my waist as he draws me closer. “Our marriage bed should be ready for us.”

He guides me towards the door, and I nearly stumble as we go. My feet feel heavy and clumsy, my entire body is numb with fear.I’m married. This man is my husband.None of it feels real. I keep waiting to wake up, to realize that this was all some horrible nightmare brought on by the overexcitement of my debut party—that maybe I drank too much champagne and had strange dreams. But as I walk up the stairs, step by step, as Andre leads me up to the third floor, I know that none of that is true. This isn’t a nightmare—it’s real. And I can’t escape what’s about to happen.

There’s a set of heavy wooden double doors directly in front of the third-floor landing, and Andre pushes them open, gesturing for me to walk inside. “Our room,” he says with that same satisfied smile, as if he knows what he’s making me feel with every word. “I do hope you like it, Lucia. This is going to be your home now, after all.”

My stomach twists as I step inside. It’s a beautiful room—one of the most elegantly appointed master’s suites I’ve ever seen. It has all the usual furnishings, all made out of heavy dark wood, and there are more of the thick tapestried rugs covering the gleaming wooden floor. The room is dimly lit and smells faintly of vanilla and sandalwood, and I feel another lurch of apprehension as I see that the duvet on the bed has been neatly folded back to expose the white sheet beneath. There’s something faintly horrifying about the idea that someonepreparedthe bed for this, and I suck in a breath to try to quell the nausea.

“Let’s get these out,” Andre murmurs, plucking at the jeweled pins in my hair. “I think you’ll look quite beautiful with your hair entirely loose as I fuck you.” He says it so casually that it jolts me, as he gathers them in one hand, setting them on the nightstand next to the bed. And then, as I stand there trying not to panic, he turns back to look at me. “So innocent,” he breathes, his gaze darkening as it sweeps over me. “And entirely mine.”

I want to tell him that I’m not his. That signing a piece of paper and taking my virginity against my will can’t make me his. But I know it’s not true. Itwillmake me his—in all of the ways that matter to him.

“Turn around,” he demands, and I obey woodenly, wondering with every movement if there’s any purpose to resisting any of it. If I should eventryto fight back, or if it’s better to just allow him what he wants.

I feel his hands slide around my waist, gripping me possessively for a moment before his fingers shift to the lacing at the base of my spine. I feel him tug at the ribbons, loosening them as he spreads the two sides of the dress apart, and I have to fight against the urge to grab for the top of the bodice when he loosens it enough for it to start to slide down. I know it will only make him angry, so I force myself tokeep my hands at my sides when the dress slithers down my waist and hips, pooling into a puddle of heavily embroidered silk at my feet.

Hot tears spring to my eyes. No man has ever seen me this vulnerable before, standing here in almost nothing—worsethan nothing, really, because what I’m wearing ismeantto be arousing. I feel his eyes on me, his hand brushing against the back of my neck as he pushes my hair to one side, running a finger down my spine to the top of the laced bustier. His other hand slides to the curve of my ass in the lacy panties, squeezing lightly, and I hear him groan.

“God, you are fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, his fingers teasing beneath the edge of the panties. “And all mine. No one else has ever seen this.” His hands go still for a moment, and then he turns me, making me nearly trip as I try to step out of the high heels. “And no one else ever will.Fuck.”

His eyes are dark with a vengeful lust that terrifies me. His gaze sweeps over my breasts, down the sheer lace of the bustier, to the thin lace that barely shields the space between my legs. He reaches up, sliding his hands over my shoulders and down my arms, his eyes greedily returning to my cleavage. I’m afraid to really look at him, afraid to look down and see what I felt earlier—that he’s hard and ready for me. That he’s aroused by my fear and the knowledge of what he’s about to take from me.

“Take it off,” he demands, taking a step back. “The top part first.” He gestures to the bustier. “I’m sure you can manage it. Take it off for me.”

A surge of anger that’s becoming more and more familiar accompanies the hot feeling of shame and the twisting sensation of fear pooling in my stomach. It’s not enough for him to kidnap me, to forcibly marry me, to strip me bare and take what shouldn’t belong to him. He has to make me complicit in my own humiliation.

“Do it, Lucia.” His voice is velvety smooth, but I can hear the steel beneath it. “I wouldn’t like to have to punish you on our wedding night.”

It’s not a threat. Not one that I’m not certain he’ll carry out,anyway. The only thing that I’m not sure about is that he wouldn’t like it.

I reach behind my back, fumbling for the ribbons of the bustier. They come loose easily—it’s lingerie, not a functional corset—and I bite my lip as I loosen them, trying not to cry. Earlier tonight, I didn’t even want Celeste to see me naked. Now Andre will see all of me, bare and vulnerable for him, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Slowly,” he murmurs. His voice is thick with lustful anticipation, and it’s harder to hold back the tears. My fingers cling to the edge of the bustier, not wanting to let it go, but I know that I don’t really have a choice.

Slowly, I let it slide down my breasts. My nipples tighten instantly despite the warmth of the room, and I see the smirk that curls his lips, as if the reaction is for him. I want to tell him that it’s not, to defiantly refuse to allow him to think that I could possibly enjoy any part of this, but I can’t make my lips shape the words. I can’t do anything except numbly let the piece of lingerie fall to the floor to join my dress, and then hook my fingers in the edge of the lacy panties.

“A little at a time.Yes—” He almost growls the last word, and I can’t help but notice his arousal now. The ridge of his cock is thick and straining against the front of his suit trousers, and I bite my lip to stifle a gasp at how large he looks.How on earth is that going to fit inside of me?My pulse flutters with fear at the thought, and I stall for a moment, the lace clinging to my hipbones as I start to slowly slip the panties off.

“Perfect,” he breathes as the lace dips below the top of the dark curls between my thighs. “I’ll have you shave for me soon enough—I prefer a bare pussy.” He says it as casually as if we were discussing the weather, his gaze fixed hungrily between my thighs. “But for tonight, I wanted you entirely as you are. Innocent and natural.” He nods at where I’ve stopped again, my hands shaking. “Take them off,principessa.”

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