Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
As much as I hated that he’d had Luca all this time, I understood why he’d done it. A really fucked up part of me was even flattered. He’d wanted me more than peace. Had delayed potentially making a deal that would save lives in this war just to ensure I married him. It was fucked up and selfish, but oh, how I secretly wanted to be his selfish obsession.
I wanted to matter to him above all else, but I knew I never would, not really. And that was what had me steeling myself against him, fortifying my walls brick by brick.
With each step he took, the urge to keep distance between us pressed in on me.
“Why are you backing away, princess?”
My heart let out a strangled beat as the breakfast bar hit my back, trapping me. Gio’s lips twitched as he advanced, gripping the counter on either side of my waist.
“Are you scared?”
“No,” I breathed.
“Then why run?”
“You just…” I held up a hand as though I could ward him off. “I don’t want to do this with you.”
His brows pulled together, jaw ticcing. “Always fighting, piccola.”
“You always make me fight!” My hand landed on his chest, and he imprisoned it there beneath his own. “I don’t want to.”
“Then stop.”
“The minute I stop is when you or Nero take what is left of my family. That’s when you hurt the people I love.” I shook my head. “We are more enemies now than we ever were, Gio.”
He stared back at me, anger flickering through those blue eyes like a storm. “No, we’re husband and wife, Emilia. I already told you I won’t let anything happen to Luca.”
“I trusted you once not to harm Renzo or me. Forgive me if I don’t do so again.”
“What would it take to earn your trust?”
I shook my head. “You can’t. It’s broken.”
He grabbed my waist and lifted me onto the counter the same way he always did, then pressed between my thighs. He reached for the gun at his chest and pulled it from the holster, making me freeze. Panic rose when he gripped the weapon, and I tried to scramble away from him. His free hand squeezed my hip, trapping me.
“What are you doing, Gio?”
“I need you to forgive me, Emilia.” He took my hand and wrapped my fingers around the hilt of the gun. “Forgive me or kill me.”
“What? No!” I tried to release the gun, but his hand still covered mine, forcing me to hold it.
His gaze never left mine as he pressed the barrel of the gun beneath his chin. His fingers slid over mine until I heard the click of the safety releasing.
Tears stung my eyes, my pulse galloping through my veins. “You’re being ridiculous. I can’t shoot you!”
“It’s as easy as pulling a trigger. You’ve done it before.” To a man who hadn’t protected or cared for me half as much as this one. “He wronged you. I’ve wronged you.”
“Do you want to die, is that it? Do you need help?”
He chuckled. “No, piccola. I’m very much in my right mind.” Clearly, he wasn’t.
“Why would you do this to me?” I stared at him through blurred vision, tears streaking my cheeks. “Why…why won’t you just let me hate you?”
Gripping the back of my neck, he pulled me close, the gun pinned between our bodies as his lips met mine. The kiss was scorching, full of torment and passion, fear and courage, lust and hate—everything we’d shared since the moment we met.
My hand trembled around the weapon, and he stroked my face as though he were trying to comfort me. While he had a gun to his head.
“Because I love you,” he whispered against my lips.
Three words.
They were just three words, and yet they stole my breath, paralyzed me. Three words that took a sledgehammer to the flimsy walls I’d tried to erect to keep him out, to protect myself. “And if this is what it takes to make you believe that…”
I closed my eyes, breathing in his every exhaled breath. I could never kill him because I loved him, too.
“I’d rather have you put a bullet in my brain than see the hatred in your eyes when you look at me.”
I knew that as much as I held onto my hatred, it wasn’t because of what he’d done to Renzo anymore. My brother had long since forgiven him. I held onto it because the alternative scared me. Loving him, needing him, scared me. I was terrified he would let me down and break my heart again. But God, I wanted to trust him, to give in to this pull between us. To love him and let him love me.
The man was now my husband. Could I really keep trying to hate him for the rest of our lives? I was already struggling.