Chapter 28

Alfonso kicked my boot from where he stood over me. "Matteo, I think you're needed."

The sound of my men calling out had barely caught my attention as I wrestled with a rusted bolt on the destemmer-crusher machine I was helping disassemble.

My boot heels dug into the tile floor as I bent my knees to slide the rolling creeper I was lying on out from under the machine. "What's up?"

Alfonso gestured with his chin.

I turned my head to see my girl in a tiny dress and fuck-me boots. With each step, her generous hips swayed in an exaggerated saunter as if she were deliberately trying to capture the attention of every red-blooded male in the building.

But I knew better… now.

There was no doubt in my mind that she was Ella, not Antonia.

A part of me had known all along, but I had ruthlessly ignored the red flags.

The signs had been there. The tiny blunders in her speech whenever I talked about our upcoming marriage or the latest outrageous thing her sister had said to me. Her innocent response to my touch. Her blushes at our sex games. Deep down, I think I knew it wasn't Antonia playing at being a shy virgin.

No one was that good at hiding their true nature.

It wasn't just the sex, or her thin excuse not to fuck me until we were wed.

It was more than that.

There was a warmth and intelligence that shone through Ella's eyes, which was lacking in the vapid snake eyes of her sister. I had seen it firsthand at dinner and afterward in the gazebo.

And last night in the kitchen.

Then I heard her play the cello, and I knew… I knew.

What I hadn't known was what I was going to do about it.

There was no turning back at this point.

Not after I'd held Ella in my arms. The idea of tossing her aside to honor my original agreement to marry her sister, Antonia, was repulsive to me.

As was the idea of letting Ella go.

She was mine now.

And right now, she was still playing the part of her horrid whore of a sister, for my benefit.

It was time to put a stop to this bullshit game of hers.

"Goddammit," I cursed, tossing the wrench aside. The heavy metal tool clanged where it bounced against the tiles as I launched myself off the wheeled cart to my feet.

Lowering my head, I charged toward her.

With each step, my anger grew as she pulled nervously on the hem of her skirt and hid behind her hair. Not understanding men, she probably thought she was diffusing the situation.

She was wrong.

She was inflaming it.

All my men saw was a cascade of soft, golden waves and her hand drawing attention to the curve of her hips and the exposed skin of her upper thighs.

"Knock it the fuck off," I shouted.

The men fell silent and turned back to their work.

Her eyes widened as she observed me stalking toward her.

I closed in on her.

With a slight cry, she tried to turn, but stumbled in the ridiculously high heels.

Her shoulders shifted as she turned toward me. Holding up a small hand, she only got out a faint, "Wait?—"

Before I lowered my shoulder and swept her up high.

My men cheered as I adjusted her squirming form on my shoulder and kept walking without missing a step.

"Back to work," I yelled, tightening my arm across her upper thighs.

"Put me down," she cried out as we crossed out of the building and into the sunshine.

Her nails dug into the fabric on the back of my T-shirt in her attempt to lift her torso.

With my open palm, I gave her ass a sharp spank. "Keep still."

After that, the only peep I heard from her was a gasp and a plea not to drop her on our way across the courtyard to enter the villa via a side door, taking the servants stairs two at a time. With determined steps, I stormed down the interior corridor to her assigned bedroom.

The moment we got inside, I tossed her onto the bed and strode over to lock the door.

By the time I turned back, she had already hopped off the mattress and was backing up to the furthest corner of the extensive suite.

I tried but failed to check my rage. "What the fuck do you think you're doing strutting around dressed like that, Ella?"

Her hands went to her hips, emphasizing her curves even more. "I can dress however I— What did you just call me?"

I stalked toward her. "You know damn well what I just called you."

She blinked several times, backing into the sofa arm and then moving around it. As if something like a piece of furniture would keep me from grabbing her. "I'm Antonia."

I ground out through a clenched jaw, "No more lies. Do you have any idea the danger you both have put yourselves in with this childish prank?"

Her chin rose. "It wasn't a prank! I mean… I mean… I'm Antonia! How dare you call me my sister's name! It's an insult."

My hands curled into fists in my effort to resist the urge to wrap them around her upper arms and shake her.

We circled the room. When she neared the door, she pivoted on her heel, throwing out over her shoulder, "I don't have to take this!"

Her fingers barely grazed the doorknob before I pounced.

Vaulting over the sofa, I spun her around and slammed her against the wall. Anchoring her there with my hips. "The hell you don't."

I reached up to grab her jaw when I realized I still had my thick canvas work gloves on.

Leaning back, I wrenched them off my hands and threw them to the floor, hitting a nearby brass trashcan.

The contents spilled out, drawing my attention.

Strewn on the floor was a dress. A dress with a clear come stain on the fabric, next to a crumpled note with the name Toni.

Ella leapt forward, kicking the dress and note under the table.

Pushing her aside, I snatched the dress and note from the floor. Unfurling the wrinkled paper, I read the message—and saw red.

I'm sorry.

I'll try to save you from Matteo in a few weeks.

Wait for a message from me.

Love,

Toni

With a lowered brow,I lifted my head up and glared at her.

It was all a lie. Every fucking bit of it.

I had assumed my innocent Ella had been dragged into this farce by her manipulative sister. The thought of her being so heartlessly used as a pawn had angered me more than the initial subterfuge. And that was despite the fucking hot mess their prank had created for my family and Dante.

But now.

Now I knew another man was involved.

A man who had professed his love for Ella.

My Ella.

And make no mistake, she was mine now.

I had branded her smooth skin with my hand and my riding crop. I had tasted her sweet pussy. She had swallowed my seed. I would kill any man who even tried to touch her now.

My lip curled. "You're not leaving this room until you tell me who the fuck Tony is and where I can find him."

Her eyes widened. "It's not what you think."

I stepped closer and threw the come-stained dress at her feet and pointed to it. "The fuck it's not. Another man jizzed on my property."

The only reason I wasn't bellowing with rage was I was certain she was still a virgin. Whoever this man was, he had not taken the ultimate intimate step with her. If she had been any other woman, I would not have cared, as I hadn't with her sister. I would never judge a woman for enjoying the same pleasures as a man.

And yet…

Something primal and dark had reared up inside of me at the thought of being the only man in Ella's life. I wasn't ashamed to admit it. I wanted her for my own. I wanted her to be mine and mine alone. As if I were selfishly snatching a unique and precious treasure and raging mine, mine, mine, like that troll from that movie.

Her arm flew up as she slapped me across the face with her open palm. "I'm not an object you can just buy."

My hand moved to my jaw as I shifted it to the right and left. My girl packed a nice wallop. It was a strange moment to feel proud, but I did. "Wrong. And I have the bank receipt to prove it."

Dammit. I needed to get back in control. My anger was getting the better of me. She didn't deserve me saying that. Just the idea that I could lose her to another man, all for being too stupid to realize it was her in my arms each time, not her sister, was untenable to me.

The way I was feeling in this moment, nothing—absolutely nothing — was too extreme for me to hold on to her. Even if I had to chain her to my bed, I would do it if it prevented her from leaving me to go running to that other man.

I needed a second chance with her, like I needed my next breath.

After witnessing firsthand Cesare and Enzo's struggles to hold on to the women they loved after monumental fuck ups, I was determined not to share the same fate.

Yes, I fucked up.

Yes, I should have realized sooner that the sisters had switched.

Yes, this was going to cause a shitstorm of issues with Dante.

But fuck no. I would not let that stop me from claiming her.

She didn't belong with them, or that other man.

She belonged with me.

Her gasp cut through my tense thoughts. "Fuck you."

She threw the door open and tried to run down the hall to the main staircase.

She didn't get far, especially not wearing her sister's fuck-me heels.

Chasing after her, I didn't even break my stride as I wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her off the floor then marched toward the bedroom I often used when I stayed at the villa.

What happened next would not happen in her bed… but mine.

"Let me go!" she cried out as she clawed at my forearm.

A shout from below reached us.

Uncle Barone called up. "Matteo, is everything okay up there?"

Shifting her weight to my hip, I leaned over the wrought iron banister. "Perfectly fine. Just setting down some rules for my new bride."

Ella cried out. "No, it's not! Help! He's holding me against my will!"

Uncle Barone nodded as he lifted an espresso cup off the saucer he was holding in a mock salute. "Carry on," he said before moving on to his office.

Ella shook her head and yelled at the ceiling. "I hate you Cavalieris!"

After adjusting my grip, I continued down the hallway as I tossed out, "That's a shame, since you're about to become one."

The moment we crossed the threshold to my suite of rooms, I dropped her onto a tufted ottoman before pivoting to lock the door. After turning the brass key, I removed it from the lock and placed it high on top of the doorframe, out of her reach.

I turned to face her.

Ella was pacing back and forth on the other side of the room, stumbling every few steps.

"Take those fucking boots off before you break your ankle."

Once more, she yanked on the hem of her sweater dress. "Stop telling me what to do. You're not my…"

I raised an eyebrow. "Not your what? Boyfriend? Fiancé? Future husband?"

She matched my expression. "As a matter of fact, no, you're not."

I inhaled deeply through my nose as I ran my left thumb over the scarred knuckles of my right hand. Despite my work gloves, my dominant hand was stained with machine grease. The black grime making the small spidery scars from years of bare-knuckle fights stand out like small white veins.

Only a monster would touch an innocent woman with dirty hands.

Only a monster would consider what I was planning.

Knowing for certain Ella had switched places with Antonia, I should've contacted Dante immediately. I should have arranged to have her returned to Sicily.

I should have honored my word.

But for the first time in my life, I was going to break it.

There wasn't a chance in hell I was sending her back.

In my mind, Ella was not a Fichera, subject to her father's rules or even Dante Agnello's mafia syndicate.

She was a Cavalieri now.

My wife in all but name and deed.

No, it wasn't the obstacle of the fallout I was concerned about in this moment…

I stormed toward her.

After her futile attempt to evade my grasp, I maneuvered her into a corner. Placing my hands above her on either wall, I leaned in close. "You're right, colomba mia. I am none of those things to you."

The tension in her shoulders visibly relaxed as she kept her face averted. "I'm glad you agree. Now let me out of here."

With my right hand, I clasped my fingers around her throat, forcing her to meet my gaze. My thumb caressed the sharp edge of her jaw, leaving a black smudge. "Not so fast, little one. Who I am is the man who's tasted your sweet mouth. Who's felt you tremble in his arms with each release. Who knows you secretly like it when I push my thumb inside your tight little ass while we role-play."

She covered her ears with her hands. "Stop it! Stop! You're my sister's fiancé."

I yanked her hands down. Clasping both her wrists in one hand and holding them against her chest, I growled, "No. I'm the only man who'll ever have the right to touch you again. Now, I'm going to ask one more time. Who is Tony?"

Her eyes flashed with defiance as she raised her chin. "He is?—"

"I'm warning you. I am barely holding on to my rage right now. I wouldn't recommend lying to me again."

Her lips clamped shut as her gaze shifted to the side. "He's my sister. She's my sister, I mean. Toni is short for Antonia."

My brow furrowed. Of course. If I hadn't been so consumed with jealousy, I would have realized that sooner. "What does that note mean?"

The delicate muscles in her throat contracted as she swallowed. "I didn't come here… willingly."

Shocked, I released her and stepped back. Rubbing a hand over my eyes, I muttered, "Goddammit."

In that moment, she slid out from behind me, turning to face me after she was more than an arm's length away. "Before you get mad at Antonia, you're just as much to blame for this mess."

Her eyes glistened with tears as she raised her arm and pointed an accusing finger at me. "I told you Antonia didn't want to marry you, but you insisted on going through with this farce."

I spread my arms wide. "There wasn't a choice."

This was not the time to explain to Ella how Antonia had put her life in danger with her manipulative escapades. While I may have offered to marry Antonia to save my family from being pulled into a territory war within the Agnello syndicate, it was also to rescue her from the almost certain unmarked grave in her near future.

Ella fired back. "There's always a choice. You just made the self-serving one."

I stepped closer. "Not then I wasn't—but I am now."

She backed up. "What do you mean?"

My gaze narrowed. "What do you think is happening here, Ella?"

Her arms folded over her middle. "I think you're angry my sister and I tried to fool you. But I'm not here to force you into marrying me instead, if that's what you think."

God, she was beautiful.

Standing before me, clearly afraid, and yet defiant and proud.

Sweet, intelligent, talented, fiercely loyal, everything a man could want or need in a wife.

My arm swung out to snatch her to me. Tightening my grasp as she wriggled to try to break it, I rasped against her lips, "No, baby. That's what I'm here to do."