Reward

I BITE BACK AN EXPLETIVE when I see good old Francisco waiting by the limo, with Cat already slipping into the backseat.

Great, just great.

Francisco is tough and lovely, which are the two best things for a bodyguard to be. But as a chauffeur though?

Cat and I automatically reach for the grab handles, and as soon as Francisco steps on the gas, the rollercoaster ride to the hotel commences.

Francisco checks on us through the rearview mirror with a jovial grin. "All good?"

Cat nods with a smile, and I flash him a thumbs-up sign.

He keeps us safe, 'Nuff said, and in the world we live in, knowing your priorities is key.

" Signora and the boys are already there," Francisco informs us. "Cat, Signora Marchetti expects you to attend the meeting as well and take notes."

"And me?" I ask archly.

"She has also given you a task," Francisco confirms.

"Don't get into trouble?" I ask sarcastically.

The older man chuckles. "I told you from the start, didn't I? You and the signora will get along perfectly."

Grrr.

Cat glances at me at that moment, and her pensive expression already has my hackles rising even when she's yet to say a word.

"What?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you." Cat remains unfazed despite my belligerence, and it makes me feel I've just wasted two seconds of my life.

This is Cat, after all. If I'm like a walking Do Not Disturb sign, she's the opposite. Impossible To Disturb.

"What has gotten into you lately?" the other girl asks.

I force myself to shrug. "Nothing." I turn my gaze to the window while speaking. As much as I hate to admit this, it's still stupidly hard for me to maintain eye contact when lying.

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't. You can—-"

"You're not the type to throw your life away for nothing."

Shit.

I hate, hate, hate when Cat comes out of the blue and just spouts out the hard truths like her words can't throw one's life upside-down.

But it does.

Always.

My teeth start grinding as her mind starts replaying her words endlessly.

You're not the type to throw your life away for nothing.

Is that how the past week seems to Cat?

And is it what everyone else is thinking?

The way I've been hanging out with the wrong crowd, cutting classes, and upvoting all the Reddit posts that talk shit about Giancarlo—-

If that's me throwing my life away, does this mean I don't and won't have a life without the Marchettis?

"Did something happen between you two?"

If only it were easy for me to say 'yes'.

Because something did happen between Giancarlo and me, and I don't even know how to explain it.

Something's changed, but because I don't want Giancarlo to think he has the power to leave me confused and restless (even when it's true)—-I've gone back to my old ways instead.

Oh, if only I could just say yes.

And it's why I've found myself pushing and pushing and pushing all the buttons I can think of to make a certain someone snap.

"Maybe, if we talk about it—-"

I cut Cat off with a glare. "You have it wrong, okay? Nothing happened between Giancarlo and me."

Cat's expression softens. "That bad, huh?"

This entire exchange reminds me of the time I asked the other girl about her favorite Marchetti, and it suddenly feels like either karma is at work...or it's something worse like God making a point.

So which is it?

It's been years since I last thought of God, and since I doubt that's no coincidence either...

You show up when I need you the most, is that it?

"If you're worried about me telling anyone about this," Cat goes on earnestly, "I promise to keep everything a secret."

And now, you think I should talk to Cat?

I suppose I could give it a try, but...

Francisco flashes an unabashed grin when he sees me looking at him suspiciously.

"As long as you don't say anything that will make me think your life is in danger, I will see, hear, and speak no evil."

Since that sounds fair, I guess all that's left to do is—-

"Giancarlo is still convinced we'll get married."

—-admit I have a misunderstanding with Giancarlo without getting into the specifics.

Cat is still silent beside me, but I don't mind waiting. She's always been the type to only talk when she has something worth saying, and that's why I end up holding my breath when she finally looks at me.

"I didn't expect you to be the type to deny what's obvious and inevitable."

I'm genuinely stunned at how she's worded things. "Don't you care about who you'll marry? Don't you want it to be your choice?"

"Oh, Sari." Cat's eyes are suddenly twinkling. "I didn't realize you're such a romantic."

"W-What? No! I'm not—- "

"I think it's cute," Cat adds.

"Very cute," Francisco chimes in, but with the way he's grinning, it's obvious he's only saying so to piss me off.

"For the fucking love of—-"

Cat looks at me chidingly. "Sari!"

"Then stop fucking say—-"

"There's nothing shameful about wanting to marry for love."

"I didn't say—-"

"And it's certainly possible that the two of you could fall in love—-"

Oh, thank fuck.

We've finally reached the hotel, and I jump out of the car as soon as the limo cruises to a stop. Talking to Cat is the worst idea ever, and the farther I get away from her, the better.

So not helpful, God! So not helpful!

I'm tempted to start shoving people away just to let off some steam, but common sense prevails, and I simply dig my nails into my palms instead.

Even without Francisco giving me La Strega 's warning, I already know I'm expected to be on my best behavior tonight. If negotiations are successful, an alliance between Sicilian and French mafia families will be formalized, and... shit.

I should've expected this, but I didn't.

It's my father standing right in front of me, and next to him is no one else but Simon Martino, the man who almost raped me.

"I'm surprised to see you here."

I see what you're doing, Father.

He wants to make it seem like what he's doing is normal, but it's not.

Not even in our world.

And I'll be damned if I'll let either of them get away with it.

I turn my gaze to the asshole who thought my body was his to violate and trash, and I want to cry, dammit.

Why, God?

I know counseling plays a role in this. I know I wouldn't be where I am now if not for the former Angel of Death and the Marchettis. I know I owe them my life, but I'm also sure as fuck that it's God who's the ultimate reason why I don't feel anything—-

No pain. No anger. No trauma.

Even when I've done my best not to think of him—-

Why?

He still gives a shit about me for some reason.

Why, dammit?

Even though a part of me has refused all these years to believe God can fix me—-

It's just something you feel.

Just something you know and can't deny.

When he's on the move, you just know.

Just like I how also know—-

Good riddance.

God could've been the only one to make that slimeball suddenly feel shame over what he's done, but it gives me neither pleasure nor sadness as I watch Simon pale and look away.

My father tries to stop him from leaving, but Simon only shoves him away as he walks off.

My father stares at me angrily. "Now, look at what you've—-"

I turn my back on him, and I can practically feel his rage burning even when I no longer see him. He's always been too fucking proud, and with not one but two people walking away from him in front of other famiglie, I'm sure the humiliation is too much, and that's why...

Any time now...

He'll probably pull my hair back.

Or kick me from behind.

He's done that before.

And he'll likely get away with it because parental abuse is nothing new in the world we live in.

Perdonami, signora.

Remorse pinches my heart when I think of the ruckus that's likely to follow. Can I even forgive myself if my father losing his temper somehow affects negotiations, and—-

Here it comes.

My heart feels like it's about to explode.

Someone's coming towards me from behind.

But just as I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for the worst—-

" Mi dispiace, sono in ritardo." I'm sorry I'm late.

Strong, warm fingers slip between mine, and I automatically resume walking even when my eyes are still closed.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him.

Because I still need an extra second to keep my emotions in check.

I will never forgive him if I end up crying in public like this.

His grip tightens around mine.

Never ever ever!

We come to a stop, and I have no choice but to open my eyes.

Oh.

We're in front of the elevator, and I find myself staring at our reflection...while Giancarlo stares at me.

"Fuck you," I hiss under my breath.

Giancarlo sighs. "Have you forgotten, signorina?"

"I've forgotten nothing—-"

"Things have already changed between us," he says softly. "And that's why I can no longer let such things slip."

What the fuck does that mean?

The elevator doors open, and I'm tempted to resist getting in with him.

"Don't even think about it," Giancarlo drawls. "Unless of course, you wish to make things worse."

I hate, hate, hate him, but I hate myself even more because his threat fucking worked, and I end up following him meekly inside the elevator.

The doors have barely closed when Giancarlo makes a call, and what...what the fuck?

My heart jumps to my throat when Giancarlo pockets his phone.

Did I just hear him tell someone to turn the cameras off, and—- fuck!

Giancarlo calmly presses the huge red button on the panel, and the elevator shudders to a stop.

"What do you think you're doing?" I burst out.

"I needed to talk to you in private."

"Then wait until we get home!"

"Some things must never be delayed, and this is one of them."

What the hell is this even?

"If this is about my father—-"

"We'll talk about that later, but for now—-I need you to remember this lesson."

What lesson?

"As my future bride, you are expected to set an example and be mindful of your words."

I don't know whether to laugh or call 911 because we've got a madman on the loose.

"That's what can't be delayed? You want to give me a lesson because I fuc—-"

Giancarlo crosses his arms over his chest oh so slowly...and whatever I have to say simply dies in my throat.

How does he do it, dammit?

How is it that he only has to look at me a certain way, and my courage instantly flees like it knows it will never stand a chance against him?

"Two things are known to motivate humans."

or punishment.

Dark eyes gleam at me in approval, and my stupid heart actually skips a beat at this.

"Since it's obvious you already know what I'm getting at, make your choice then. Promise me you'll watch your language from here on, and I will be your reward—-"

All I can do is choke.

The fucking gall of this jerk!

"Or you can continue defying me, and I will be your punishment."

His lips slowly curve in a smirk, and oh, how I fucking wish I had the guts to slap the shit out of his too-handsome face.

"What kind of choice is that? There isn't even any difference—-"

"Ah, but there is," Giancarlo assures me. "A world of difference, in fact, and you'll know once you experience both."

If he's saying I should also allow myself to be punished just to know the difference—-

Thanks, but fuck no.

"Make your choice now," he says, "as I still have a meeting to attend."

I smile brightly at him. "Then why not have your meeting first—-"

Giancarlo smiles back at me. "Or I can simply make the choice for you?"

Fuck.

"Your choice, signorina ?"

My heart starts banging against my chest.

"I choose..."

And I hear myself say—-

"A reward."

His face turns expressionless as soon as the word slips past my lips, and my heart races all the more because I have no idea what to expect from here.

"Come here."

And idiot that I am, I actually find myself obeying the command.

One shaky step at a time.

Until I'm a girl standing in front of a boy—-

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My eyes close as he cups my face.

Everything about this moment feels like a fucking rom-com, and it should have me gagging right now, dammit.

But instead it's the opposite, and my toes actually curl as his breath fans my lips.

Fuuuuuuck.

I'm torn between fear and anticipation, dread and excitement.

I want to want this, but what if I end up hating it? And hating him?

Will he leave me if—-

"Stop thinking, dolcezza ."

I don't even have a chance to answer, with his lips finally pressing against mine. It's the gentlest contact, feather-soft and tender, and my tears actually start stinging.

Because this, dammit...

This is everything I've dreamt of.

And when I think about how the dream's only begun, and there's more—-

Oh, so, so much more...

His lips nibble mine, gently and lazily, and I start feeling dizzy and impatient with need.

Please, oh, please.

I really feel like crying when his lips finally coax mine to part, and my lips open under his like a flower that needs his taste to bloom, and fuck, fuck, fuck.

Did I really fucking think something that fucking cheesy and fuck, fuck, fuck —-

His tongue enters my mouth, and it's over for me in that instant.

Something hot unfurls from the most secret part of me, and all I can do is whimper as my arms involuntarily wrap around his neck.

His hands slide down until they're cupping the cheeks of my bottom, and... aaaaaah .

This is the first time, the very first time that I feel Giancarlo is touching and holding me the way a man would hold a woman, and the thought alone has me moaning and feeling embarrassingly wet.

Please, oh please.

Sanity slips further away as he deepens his kiss, and his tongue explores my mouth in a way that leaves me delirious. A whimper escapes me as he squeezes my ass before pulling me closer. The distance between our bodies disappear, and my mind shuts down.

Oh, please, please, please.

I only realize what I'm silently begging for when he pulls away.

Nooooooo.

I didn't want the kiss to end, dammit.

But it already has.

"Do you know what I'd have done if you had chosen punishment?"

He takes a step back as he speaks, and I hate how the way I suddenly feel achingly empty at the loss of contact.

"Do you, Sarica?"

I shake my head.

"It's this."

"I don't get it."

Wickedness glints in his eyes, and I suddenly find his gorgeous face oh...so... punchable.

"I'm already doing it, Sarica."

What the hell does that mean?

"You're not doing—-"

OH.

FUCK.

ME.

Is he saying him not kissing and touching me is a punishment?

I see his lips curve in a smirk, and that fucking does it!

I charge toward him, but Giancarlo being Giancarlo is already expecting it, and he catches me mid-way, and everything backfires.

Fuuuuuck!

How did I end up with my back against the wall, my legs curled around his waist, and Giancarlo smiling down at me because we both know he's got me perfectly trapped like a brainless little rabbit?

"Fuck you!"

I can say it freely now, knowing what the punishment is.

"Fuck you—-"

"In time, Sarica. You'll fuck me. In time."