Chapter 20

My body shivers deliciously as I wash myself, remembering Ricky and Maddox’s hands on me. I have no idea what that was, but I want more of it. Ricky and Maddox together, their hands everywhere. Every day I spend in this place, I feel more confused about what I want. And at the head of that confusion are three men who make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world. They’re possessive, controlling, confusing assholes, but something about all that makes the prospect of hooking up with them even more exciting. I wonder what Alessandro would make of it. If he walked in on us like Ricky did, would he have joined in or would he have erupted in a rage? The fucked-up, depraved part of my brain is imagining it. Craving it. The only explanation is being locked up is messing with my head. When I get back into the real world, these irrational feelings will simply disappear, and I will look back on this time and wonder what was wrong with me.

I’m in disbelief that Alessandro actually expects me to become a part of his dysfunctional family through marriage. Marry him or go out into the world alone again. The loneliness I felt over the past six months settles in the pit of my stomach like a lead balloon. He threw the choice back at me, knowing it was impossible. What kind of ultimatum was that? The fucked-up kind. Be owned by him, his possession, or if I refuse, what then? Will I be left to fend for myself once again, at the mercy of rival syndicates who will stop at nothing to get their hands on me? Alone again in a world where there is some fucked-up psycho who’s after me because of something my papa did.

I always thought I was better off alone, safer, but I can’t go back to that kind of loneliness again. The emptiness was all-consuming. The only two friends I had were Dani and Ian. And now it looks like Ian was only ever using me anyway.

Can I really marry a man who hurt me so deeply, just to ensure my safety? This is a fucked-up situation with no good outcome. Perhaps it’s a case of better the devil you know. I may not trust the men here entirely, with all the secrets they keep from me, but I know deep down, after what I have seen this week, they would do anything to protect me.

My heart aches with indecision. I’ve spent so long seeking revenge on these guys, believing it was the only way to find closure. The image I had of my papa crumbled when I discovered that he was not the person I believed him to be. The world feels completely topsy-turvy, making it impossible for me to make sense of anything.

A tear escapes down my cheek at the thought. My papa is the actual monster here. Who sets their daughter up like that? Hides every fucking aspect of his life to protect her. Nope, he wasn’t protecting me. He was leaving me defenseless, painting a massive red target on my back. My papa was an intelligent man. He had to have known what he was doing .

But now, faced with this impossible decision, I don’t know what to believe anymore. Can I trust anyone, even myself, to make the right choice?

When I’m wrinkled to a prune, I step out of the shower and throw a fluffy towel around my middle, tucking it under my arms. Studying my reflection in the mirror, Maddox is right, the red is so much better on me. I feel like I’m back in my own skin. I find some make-up in the top drawer and apply a little foundation, along with mascara and lip gloss, then step out of the bathroom.

I flinch in shock when I see Alessandro sitting on my bed. “Jesus. You scared the life out of me. Can you start knocking?” I grumble in frustration. He has major boundary issues, worse than the other two.

Standing, he strides toward me with purpose and closes the gap between us. He looks incredible in his expensive dark suit, a little stubble on his chiseled jawline. “You were in the shower.”

“Next time, come back when I’m done. It’s creepy when you’re sitting on my bed when I hop out.”

“Next time, I’ll join you in the shower,” he promises. His fingers tangle into my freshly colored hair. “Better,” he says, giving it a tug.

“Thanks,” I mutter, still kind of pissed he was the one who made me change it back. I don’t like being told what to do.

He studies me, making me feel uncomfortable under his steely gaze. Does he know what just happened in the kitchen with his brothers? Is that why he’s in here? “Tell me your decision,” he demands, appearing more desperate than I’ve ever seen him before.

I step back from him and enter my walk-in closet. “Can we discuss this later when I am dressed?” I rummage through my wardrobe, seeking something cozy to put on.

I sense his presence as he enters the doorway, but he remains silent. Just watches me like the creepy stalker he is .

“Can I have some privacy?” I sass. I’m curious why he’s lingering around instead of speaking up if he has something to say.

He shakes his head. “You’re going to be my wife. If I want to watch you dress, I will.”

His possessive words cause a strange tingle to run through me, and I hate myself for it. Who the hell am I turning into in this house? “I haven’t given you my answer yet,” I reply with determination. He doesn’t own me, and he has another thing coming if he thinks me being his wife means he will. I’m not that girl.

With a low and husky voice, he demands, “Tell me, what is your answer?” He is accustomed to always getting what he wants, and I can sense that I’m starting to irritate him by making him wait.

“I have a couple more hours.” I smile to myself, taking a pair of shorts off the rack and turning back to him.

He checks his watch. “You have an hour,” he growls, taking a floral dress from the rack and shoving it in my direction.

I laugh. Is he kidding me? I’m not some doll he can dress up. “We’ve had this fight already, Alessandro.” I hang it back up and grab a tank top that will work with my shorts.

“You would look pretty in the dress.”

“What do I have to look nice for?” I sass back. Bumming around this place is hardly worth dressing up for.

“Me.”

“Is this what being married to you will be like? You will treat me like your little doll, telling me how to dress and do my hair? Because if it will, I’m out. I don’t want to be controlled. You, of all people, should know that. Or was it only convenient when it was my papa I was disobeying? ”

He sucks in a breath, and I know he’s trying to control his temper, but I’m about to push him over the edge. Part of me hopes I do. “If you weren’t being a brat, I wouldn’t feel the need to control you.”

“We both know that’s bullshit,” I snap, throwing the tank on, no bra.

Our gazes lock, his eyes dark as night. “Harley, every other person in my life does as I say. Why do you have to be so difficult?” His voice is strained as he runs a hand across his stubble.

“Because, unlike all your soldiers, I don’t give a flying fuck what you think. You might be the boss around here, but you’re not in charge of me. And if you can’t get that through your head, we have a big problem.” I smirk at him, knowing I’m getting under his skin and enjoying every damn second of it.

His eyes fixate on me, his fury simmering beneath the surface. He tilts his head to the side, cracking his neck.

I shake my head. Is that supposed to scare me? I don’t stick around to find out. He can simmer in that shitshow alone. After this morning’s activities, I’m famished. Before I give him my answer, I want to get ready and have breakfast. I come across a pair of panties, letting my towel slip from my hands, so I can pull them on, followed by the shorts. When I’m done, I shove past him. But as I do, he suddenly grabs me and tosses me over his shoulder, knocking the air from my lungs and marching from my room with me.

“Alessandro, put me down.” I fight against his tight grip, but it doesn’t deter him. He keeps striding down the hallway until we make it to a closed door. He throws it open forcefully and storms inside, flinging me onto a massive four-poster bed. I gaze up at him, my heart pounding frantically in my chest, filled with both anticipation and anxiety .

His dark eyes are scary as fuck, and for a second, I think I might have just pushed him too far. “You’re right, you’re my queen, Harley, and all I want to do is adore you. I have a lot to learn to be your husband, but if you let me, I will do everything I can to make you happy and give you all you deserve.”

My heart is pounding uncontrollably as I look at him in complete disbelief. Did Alessandro Moretti just make a declaration to me? What kind of upside-down world did I wake up in this morning? Before I can say as much, he climbs over me, his mouth covering mine in a brutal kiss.

Without thinking, my hands instinctively find their way into his hair, and he pulls me toward him as we tumble off the bed and onto the soft carpet below. In the blink of an eye, he is on top of me. His hands running over my body as we continue to make out, his enormous frame caging me in, making me believe every damn word he just uttered.

I help him out unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it over his arms. My hands glide over his chest, but I stop when I feel fresh scars over taut skin. He moves my hands away like he doesn’t want me to touch them, but I can’t help but wonder what I was feeling. What happened to him in the last couple of years?

He fumbles with his belt, then slides his pants down his legs. His massive cock pressing into me. He shoves my tank over my head and sucks on my nipples roughly, and I know he can see the marks Ricky left on me not half an hour ago. But it doesn’t stop him. He does exactly what he said and worships every inch of me, showering me in kisses that have my body writhing under him, desperate for him to give me what I know only he can .

He takes his cock in his hand and lines it up with my pussy, slipping it through my juices, teasing us both. “You’re so fucking wet, princess. It was nice of the boys to warm you up for me.”

My eyes go wide, and a strange tingle runs through me. Have they shared a woman before? Because the way he says it makes it all sound so normal.

“I could smell you on them, drove me fucking wild. Why do you think I came looking for you? I couldn’t stay away.”

“Fuck,” is all I can say as I melt into a puddle on the carpeted floor below.

In one move, he pushes inside of me, impaling me with his massive cock. “Alex,” I whisper his name. He’s bare, and this is dangerous. But the way he looks down at me with so much adoration, I don’t tell him to stop. I want this. We have been playing this back-and-forth game since I got here, and now, like the hussy I am, I’m desperate for him.

He lifts my legs higher, slamming all the way home, not holding back. Over and over, he knocks the air from my lungs, and I moan incoherent sounds that vibrate off the bedroom walls.

Then he moves, rolling me on top of him so I’m straddling him, legs spread out wide. I rock over his cock; his hands grip my hips, moving me more frantically. He looks like he’s about to lose control—but so am I. This is hot. So fucking messed up because most of me hates him for the situation he placed me in, but I still want him like crazy, and I’m not sure what kind of fucked up in the head that makes me, because right now, I don’t care. Tingles run through me, prickling over my skin. His hand comes to my pussy, running a finger over my clit, sending fresh waves of pleasure thumping through me. I’m close, so very close.

His dark eyes lock with mine. “Does this mean your answer is yes?”

I blink back at him. Oh fuck. I can’t think right now. “That’s not fair.”

His hand moves away, gripping my thigh while he waits. “I need your answer now, princess.”

I stop moving, staring him down. Heat radiates off my body. My head spins. He watches me, and I can see by the look in his eyes, he’s not messing around.

“Say yes,” he demands.

I blink back at him, willing my heart to settle and the throbbing of my pussy to stop. “You don’t play fair, Alex.”

“I never said I would.” His lips turn up at the side. This is fun for him, taunting me so he gets what he wants. I should have stayed the fuck away from him. Should have known better.

I try to escape him, but his fingers dig into my skin, stopping me from moving. I maintain an intense, angry stare at him.

He wants to play dirty.

Fuck him. I can play. “I have conditions,” I snap back in my bitchy tone.

He slaps my ass, surprising me. The handprint stings but sends a fresh wave of moisture directly to my pussy. “You’re pushing your luck, princess.”

“Does it look like I care? You want me to agree to this, then you hear me out.”

“What are your conditions?” He emits a low growl, and I lock eyes with him, matching his fierce demeanor.

“I want to see my friend from the diner or at least talk to her. I understand there are some safety concerns, but I can’t live completely cut off from the rest of the world. And I’ve been missing for a couple of weeks, she will be worried about me. ”

His eyebrows narrow. “What else?” he says, not agreeing to anything.

“You stop keeping shit from me. I want—no, I deserve to know what’s going on. We can’t do this if there is no trust between us.”

“Secrets are necessary to ensure your own security.”

I arch my eyebrow, signaling that his excuse is inadequate.

“I will tell you anything that relates directly to you,” he responds.

I consider him, knowing I can’t expect anything more than that. “One last thing. I need to know what happened the night my family died and my house burned down.”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

I shove off him. This time I’m too fast for him, and I’m standing before he catches me. His hand wraps around my ankle, tugging me back to the carpeted floor with a bang. “Ahh!” I cry out as pain shoots through my knee. I try to wrestle against him, but he’s too strong for me. He pins me underneath him. Both of us are struggling to breathe smoothly.

His lips come to my ear. “I will accept all your conditions,” he whispers in my ear, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps over my skin. “After the engagement party, you will know it all.”

“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?” A sound of frustration escapes me as I groan. Why does he always have to complicate things?

He lines himself up and pushes inside of me again, brutally claiming me. “Because this is more fun.” One hand tangles around my hair, pulling my head closer to him as he moves with more determination than before, increasing the depth and force of the thrusts.

I cry out, murmuring incoherent sounds into the room as my body convulses around his cock. “Alessandro,” I cry his name in pleasure, but it’s still laced with how much I hate him .

He jerks forward, filling me with his own release. “My princess,” he growls out my name like a plea. For what I don’t know, but I’m right there with him. That was the craziest sex I’ve ever had. I just agreed to be the prince of the underworld’s wife. My fate is sealed. He might have agreed to my conditions, but I know he will own me.