My heart races, and I can’t seem to break our eye contact. I match his penetrating stare, our eyes burning with desire.
In one way, this is disturbing as hell.
In another, it’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in my life.
For a man to defend my honor like this.
Maybe that makes me just as fucked up, but it also makes me horny as hell.
My breathing is heavy, and I hope people believe it’s from fear, not lust.
Cristian licks his lips and continues his insults. “How tragic it is for your father to know his daughter is a whore.” He snaps Carmela’s head back down and turns it so she’s facing me. “Now, I’ll leave it up to my fiancée to decide how she’d like you to be punished for your smart mouth.” He smirks at me in amusement. “My sweet Natalia, how do you want me to deal with Carmela’s disrespect?”
The room seems to close in as everyone stares at me.
I’ve never felt so awkward.
My heart was pounding before, but now, it’s thrashing against my ribs so fast that I’m waiting for it to land on the table. I’m terrified … but also soaked between my legs.
I stare at my husband-to-be, struggling to appear mortified. Everyone waits for me to answer—to decide Carmela’s fate. I might be engaged to a monster, but I can’t become one myself.
I clear my throat and direct my gaze to a terrified Carmela. “This is your only warning. If you disrespect me again, I’ll let my future husband handle you in whatever way he sees fit.”
Those words. That tone.
None of them are me.
I shiver.
Cristian is rubbing his craziness off on me.
“Today is your lucky day.” Cristian frees Carmela so suddenly that her head snaps forward, her face smacking into the table. He then makes a show of eyeing everyone in the room. “Now, does anyone else have something to say about my future wife?”
There are shakes of the heads, noes, and of course nots in response as Cristian stalks back toward me.
My skin flushes when he pauses behind my chair. He gently grabs the back of my neck, cupping it with a softness I’ve never had from him, and kisses me. His mouth lingers on mine as he slides his tongue between my lips before slowly pulling away and sitting back down.
The only noise in the room is Carmela sobbing.
Until, as if on the worst cue ever, the servers enter the room with dessert trays. Without a lingering glance at a crying Carmela, a server sets the dessert in front of her.
“None for her,” Cristian directs him.
The server nods, snatches her plate, and hands it to Margaret.
Even if I were to return to the gallery, my brain would be mush.
Thanks to Cristian, I already sold more today than I had in the past two weeks. So, I text Bonnie, asking for the day off, and she replies yes with at least fifteen exclamation marks.
This day feels like it’s lasting forever.
I’m sure to everyone else, it’s just another lunch.
But for me, it’s overwhelming.
I dated Vinny for years but never attended a family event with him. We tried keeping our relationship separate from that part of his life. It was stupid and should’ve told me we had no future. Vinny said we’d marry one day, but that was only if his father agreed. Which, thinking about it now, I was stupid to believe that. I had no connections, didn’t come with a business deal, so to Vincent Lombardi, I was useless. Vinny stupidly assumed I’d be okay with being a side chick and was shocked when I refused. I broke up with him, and his ego got hurt, so now, he doesn’t want anyone else to have me.
At least with Cristian, we don’t have to seek permission for our marriage.
Cristian doesn’t ask for permission.
He gives it.
Now, the others have left, and Cristian is huddled in the corner, speaking with Dino, Roman, Lorenzo, and Rocky while I wait for him.
I should’ve asked for a to-go wine.
“Don’t fuck it up,” Cristian tells them before they break away.
The men shuffle out of the room, and Cristian stalks toward me. I bite into my lip and shift from one foot to the other. I hate how much his man affects me and how my mouth waters at the sight of him scrubbing a hand over his mouth.
The same mouth that pleasured me last night.
The same hand that touched me like I’d never been touched.
I frown at the realization—that’s all I want from him right now. He could push me up against the wall, pull my skirt up, and I wouldn’t dispute it.
No, bad Natalia.
No dirty thoughts of your best friend’s dad, who’s a legit madman.
His brooding gaze latches on to mine, and my stomach flutters when he reaches me. “Ready to go?”
I nod. “Yes, unless you plan to pour me another glass of wine.”
A smirk plays at his lips, and he motions for me to start walking. I head toward the door. Cristian’s chest brushes my back as he trails me, the heat and protection of him like my personal bodyguard.
“Can you tell me your plan?” I ask as we walk down the hall. “One minute, you’re ready to hand me over to the Lombardis like I’m chopped liver. The next, you’re giving me an engagement ring and defending me in front of your fuck buddy.”
He’s so close that he can whisper in my ear. “I never allow anyone to know my plans.”
The heat and sticky air slap me in the face when we step outside, and I shuffle toward the Escalade. Cristian screams my name at the same time I’m tackled to the ground. I gasp, air leaving my lungs, and my ears ring.
Gunshots.
My heart pounds.
My life flashes before my eyes, deeper than it did with Vinny.
A heavy weight—Cristian’s weight—covers my body like a shelter from a storm. I shut my eyes, screaming each time a bullet hits the Escalade, certain that the next one will strike me. I can’t breathe—from both the fear and Cristian’s heaviness—and I can’t speak as tears fall down my face.
A window shatters, fragments of glass hitting Cristian’s back and the ground, and I hear a gentle, “Shh,” from him.
When I open my eyes, my face is shoved into Cristian’s chest, so I see nothing. Cristian shields me the way a man would do with a woman he never wants to lose.
I thought I’d die at the hands of Cristian.
Not be protected by his body.
CHAPTER 16
CRISTIAN
I’ll never forget the first time I heard gunshots.
I was five, bored at my aunt’s wedding reception, and asked my dad, “Can I go watch the fireworks too?”
It was right after the Fourth, so fireworks were the first thought that came to mind.
My father cocked his head to the side at my out-of-the-blue question. Then, reality dawned on him when he noticed the black car slowly approaching.
“Spari! Spari! Scendere!”
Shooting, shooting. Get down!
I’ll never forget the boom-bang-boom of the gunfire as I crawled underneath the table. Other kids cried out for their moms, but not me. Not one tear slipped down my cheek when I poked my head out from under the tablecloth.
I wasn’t allowed to cry.
It was a rule of my father’s.
Some kids got spankings for cursing.