Chapter 42

42

Massimo

"The fuck? What are you talking about? Who are you?" I widen my stance, making sure this asshole can see no part of my wife.

"I'm Alvaro Garcia?—"

"Head of the Mexican cartel." I plant my palms on my hips.

"Diego promised me her hand in return for paying off his debts." His eyes gleam.

"Debts?" I scowl.

"Debts?" She jumps up from her chair, and I thrust my hand out to keep her behind me and away from this stronzo's view.

"He owed money to the cartel. A lot of money, actually. Money he'd never have been able to pay off in this lifetime. I agreed to write off the sum in return for her hand."

"She's my wife now." I lower my chin to my chest. "She's mine."

"I'm not anybody's possession. I?—"

"Keep quiet." I glare at her over my shoulder.

She huffs at me, then slowly presses her lips together and scowls at me. I ignore her and turn back to Alvaro.

"How much did he owe you?"

"You sure you want to know?"

"How much?" I snap.

One side of his mouth kicks up. "A billion dollars."

"What? How is that even possible? How can anyone run up such a big amount in debt?" She tries to pop her head from around me, and I turn and glare at her.

"Will you keep quiet and sit down?"

She opens her mouth to protest.

"Please?" I soften my voice. "Please, Stellina , do this for me, will you?"

She tips up her chin, but to my relief, she sinks down into the chair. I turn to Alvaro. "I assume you have the requisite paperwork to back this up?"

His grin widens. "Of course. You do realize what happens if you don't pay this back?"

I close my fingers into fists. "Touch one hair on her head, and I'll kill you."

He laughs. "If you don't return my money within forty-eight hours, I will collect what is owed to me."

She jumps up and brushes past me. "If you think I'm going to let myself be treated like baggage that can be passed around, you are sadly mistaken." She points a finger at him. "I didn't belong to my brother." She stabs a thumb over her shoulder. "I don't belong to him." Her tone drips with derision, "And I definitely don't belong to you."

He arches an eyebrow at me. "On the other hand, I hope you don't pay." He turns his attention back to her and traces his finger down her cheek. "Apparently—and despite the disfigurement—she's interesting enough that I might let her warm my bed."

Anger twists my guts, and blood thuds at my temples. How dare he touch her? Adrenaline laces my blood. I push her behind me, then grab his wrist. I yank him forward with enough force that he crashes face down into the table. I bend and place my mouth next to his ear. "Be very careful about how you talk about my wife."

A woman screams from a nearby table, and I hear the sound of footsteps as people move away.

I slap his hand down on the table, then pull out my gun and shoot him through his forefinger. The same finger he used to caress my Stellina's cheek.

He howls in pain. I snatch up a napkin and shove it inside his mouth.

"In fact, don't fucking talk about her at all, you pezzo di merda . If you dare lay eyes on her again, I'll pull them out of your sockets and feed them to the birds. After I've smashed your head in, capisce ?"

I pull him up to his feet, then release him. He staggers forward, tears the napkin out of his mouth with his uninjured hand, then turns to me.

"You've made an enemy today, Sovrano. I won't forget what you did."

"Get out of my sight," I snap

"The money, or her. You have forty-eight hours." He pivots and leaves.

"Anyone tell you that you have a flair for theatrics?" She turns on me. "And how dare you speak to me like that? I am not an asset. I am not something to be handed over, I am not ?—"

I lean forward and clap my fingers around the nape of her neck. "You are my property. Mine. Mine to fuck, if I want. Mine to own. Mine to control. Mine to do with as I want, and I am not letting anyone take you away from me, you feel me?"

Her green eyes dart sparks at me. Her features are flushed. A pulse flutters at her throat. With her hands curled into fists at her sides, and with strands of hair framing her face, she looks like an avenging angel. My angel.

"Fuck you, Massimo," she says in a tight voice.

"I intend to." I grab her hand and haul her across the floor and toward the service doors in the far corner.

"Where are you taking me? The elevators are the other way."

"And he just went that way."

"Oh, right." She shuts up, thank fuck, and allows me to lead her through the double doors, past the sous-chefs in the kitchen, past the chef yelling at another sous-chef, and past the dishwasher, who gives us a curious look. We make it out the back door, then into another passageway, and to the service elevator. I slap the button, still holding her hand as we wait. She tries to pull her arm from my grasp, and I glare at her.

"Can you stop fidgeting?"

"Can you stop acting like a dog with a hurt paw?"

"What?"

"You're acting really stupid and overly possessive."

The car arrives and the doors open. I step inside, pull her in after me, and stab the button for the ground floor. "I'm the one acting stupid? Do you realize how completely foolish you were in there? Have you forgotten where you come from? Do you understand how much danger you put yourself in when you yelled at him?"

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"And that's what got you in this position." I jerk my chin at her scar.

She pales. "H-how dare you? It's not my fault someone shot at me."

"It's your fault that you stepped up on that stage. Your fault you decided to become an actress."

"How dare you say such a thing?" she cries out.

"Why couldn't you have stayed home and quietly married whoever your family chose for you?" I close the distance between us, and she skitters back until her back hits the wall of the elevator car. "That way, I wouldn't have met you. I wouldn't have slept with you. I wouldn't have become obsessed with you. Since I met you, my entire world has been turned upside down."

"You're making no sense." She plants her palms on my chest and tries to push me away. The touch of her hands slides under my skin and arrows straight to my groin.

"You know what doesn't make sense? How I could kill a guy—and your own brother, at that—for you, and not feel a shred of emotion. All I felt was relief. Then, that asshole dared look at you, and all I could think of was that I'd take pleasure in tearing him limb from limb. I am going to tear his heart out and cut him into little pieces so his blood stains the ground. Then, I'm going to throw you down in it, pry your thighs apart, and fuck you until you come."

She swallows. Her pupils expand until there's only a circle of green left at the edges of her irises.

"You're crazy," she whispers.

"Fucking crazy about you. Crazy enough to want to marry you as soon as I saw you in that bar. Crazy enough to want to hide you away until this danger has passed." A hot sensation coils in my chest. I glance between her eyes. "Crazy enough to conceal you from all prying eyes, and fuck you until you know your place."

"What?" She blinks rapidly. "Are you even hearing yourself?"

"Crazy enough..." I bend my knees and peer into her eyes. "To start right now." I slide the gun into the waistband at the small of my back, then lean over and slap the stop button on the elevator.