Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“I know.” That was debatable, but I wasn’t up for that challenge.
“What if that guy tonight wouldn’t have turned out to be such a bastard? What if your drink hadn’t been spiked? If he’d asked you back to his place, would you have gone?”
“Of course not.” Massimo didn’t challenge my answer. Then I sighed. “But I guess a small part of me wishes I had the freedom to if I’d wanted to.”
I shook my head, not sure how to explain it. He seemed to think that I was bemoaning being tied to him for the rest of my life because it meant I’d never be with another man, but that wasn’t it. It was more that being tied to him for the rest of my life meant that there were all kinds of things I’d never get to do.
And all kinds of decisions I’d never get to make.
Massimo leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “Do I at least kiss better than your father’s man? I could find out who he is if I wanted to, you know.”
I nodded, because I did know. There was no doubt that Massimo was a powerful man. “Yes.” It was the truth, even though I felt I’d only gotten a brief taste of what he could do with his mouth.
His forehead wrinkled, as if he were thinking something through. “And do I give better orgasms than your average appliance?”
A small laugh escaped. “Definitely.”
“Good to know.” He stood up. “You’ve had a long day. Let’s get you to bed.”
My heart pounded hard beneath my ribs as my gaze went to his bed. Was that what he meant? He’d given me an amazing orgasm, and I’d given him nothing in return. And I’d felt how hard he was. Would he make me repay him in kind?
“Your bed,” he amended, gesturing toward the doorway to my small room, and relief filled me until his next words. “For now.”
13
STEFANO
Leila looked subdued the next morning at breakfast. She kept her gaze on her plate, and she didn’t eat much. I kept trying to catch her eye until Massimo glared at me.
I’d heard her cry last night when he hit her. I couldn’t stand it—I knew if I had to hear much more of it, I would’ve barged into his room and taken a swing at Massimo himself. So I’d retreated down to the basement to take my anger out on a punching bag, only to find Carmine doing the same.
He talked a little, after we’d both worked up a sweat. He believed that she hadn’t been trying to run off, and if he did, so did I. Besides, we both knew Leila was unbelievably naïve and innocent. If anyone could accidentally get lost returning from a restroom, it was her.
And now he was pissed that I was watching her, when he’d beat her.
Just like our dad had sometimes beat our mom.
I hadn’t intervened then, either. I should have last night. Glancing over at Carmine, I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
Massimo finished his coffee and stood up to go. Often, I’d linger at the breakfast table with Leila, chatting after my brothers had to leave, but not today. I pushed to my feet and followed him down the stairs.
“I heard you hitting her,” I said, just as he reached the front door.
He turned, looking unruffled. “Spanking her. There’s a difference.”
“Would she agree with that?” Hitting was hitting, no matter what vocabulary you used.
“Probably.” He gave me a curious look. “You didn’t hear anything else last night?”
“I went down to the gym.”
He raised an eyebrow, but otherwise, his expression gave nothing away. “You might’ve learned something if you’d stuck around.”
“I don’t spank women,” I said stiffly.
“As I said, there are some things you could learn.”
“Fuck that.”
“All right,” Massimo said, holding up his hands in appeasement.
I didn’t usually talk like that, but sometimes, it was the only way to get him to listen. “You made her cry.”
“So? Women cry all the time. Mom did.”
“Because Dad made her miserable. That’s the example you want to go with?”
Massimo ignored that. “Women’s tears are a form of manipulation.”
I bristled. “Did all the men in our family read the same handbook on how to be a crappy husband?”
Carmine came jogging down the stairs. “I think I saw a copy of that in the library.”
“Not funny.” Ignoring him, I turned back to Massimo. “That poor girl has done pretty much nothing in her life, and now you’ve got it locked in so that she won’t be doing anything for the rest of her life. She’s trapped.”
“That’s what an arranged marriage is.”
“Bullshit. The wedding is the culmination of that arrangement. But you could make the marriage whatever you want it to be. Give her a chance to gain the experience she’s never had.”
Massimo was quiet for a moment. “That’s what Allegra said.”