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A malicious laugh broke out from my throat.
"You're insane, you know that. For fuck's sake, you're about to marry my sister."
His left eyebrow tipped. "I know that," he said. "But I don't care. You and I know, Steph, that I don't give a damn about Becky. She'll be my wife but only by name and on paper. The woman I want in my bed is you and only you, Stephanie."
My lips parted but I struggled to come up with a response. I knew so much about how calculated and snaky and slippery he was, and that he was a narcissistic fox, but this? His words filled me with sheer disgust.
"Think about it, Steph," he said, spreading his arms. "This can be a perfect arrangement. We can still be together. And your sister won't even know a thing."
My blood boiled with fury.
"Together?" I scoffed. "What makes you think I'll even want to be your goddamn mistress?"
He smiled.
And the smug expression made me even more angry.
"You broke up with me. You humiliated me. You treated me like I was filth, like some useless doll," I said. "What makes you think I'll let you touch me again?"
"I didn't have a choice!" he growled, and I suppressed the urge to flinch. "You know how my mother is. I didn't have a choice back then. I couldn't marry you..." his voice softened as he took a step forward. "But that didn't mean I didn't love you."
He took another step forward and, nervously, I took one back
"Love?" I sneered. "It's funny tou can talk about love. Do you even know what that word means?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Come on, Stephanie," he said persuasively. "Don't be stupid. I'm offering you an easy life here. Will you just throw my offer away?"
I glared at him and was completely pissed to discover he truly thought the best thing I could make out of life was being his personal slut. I began to wonder how I had ever fell in love with him.
My free hand balled into an angry fist as the rage welled up like lava inside me, threatening to erupt.
"You know what, Drake, I have a better offer for you," I said enigmatically and his eyebrows tipped again.
"I give you three seconds to leave my room before I castrate you with my heels," I said.
His gaze travelled to my nude stilettos and he shook his head. "We both know you won't do that, Steph."
I ground my teeth. "Well, people change."
Then I yanked one of the stilettos and brandished the long, pointed heel at him. "I'll give you to the count of three. One...two–"
He let out a cold chuckle as he turned round and walked to the door.
"You never cease to surprise me, Steph," he said. "You're so full of surprises."
"Fuck off!" I said.
But he lingered on the door.
"Maybe that's why sex was never boring with you. Met you a virgin and less than three meetings you were pulling all kinds of tricks and styles," he chuckled again. Then he grabbed the door knob and looked back at me over his shoulder. "You should stick to that. A lot of rich men would pay good money for a fine piece of ass like–"
My hand moved on its own, sending the shoe flying through the air. It rammed into the door mere inches away from where he stood, narrowly avoiding his head.
"You bitch!" he cursed, jumping away from harm's way.
I reached for the other shoe swiftly and squeezed it in my hand.
"I warned you. Now leave or this next one would be on your dick," I warned.
"You will regret this, Steph," he snarled balefully. "I promise you. I'll get you."
He yanked the door open and stormed out, while I remained there, the shoe in my hand. A part of me knew he meant it. He would come back. And he would seek a pound of flesh, try to get at me for what I just did.
I drew a deep breath and walked slowly to the door. I closed it and pulled a chair to block the handle. That way, no one would come in until the next morning.
..........
Next morning
I wished this day was over even before the whole shit show began.
As I had expected, being Becky's favorite bridesmaid, a polite way to call me her slave, I was running around, bringing everything she needed, from a glass of sparkling tonic water with two ice cubes to a collection of eyelashes and jewelry which I had to get from a jeweler's seven miles away.
I was actually grateful for the latter assignment. At least it gave me an excuse to stay away from the mess for a while.
Unfortunately, as soon as I returned, the tiny ornate boxes in hand, I ran into Rousey McMahon. The woman's lips curved downstairs in a frown and she folded her arms.
"Where have you been?" she demanded frostily, her eyes flaring with rage.
"Your precious daughter wanted some jewelry," I replied, waving the boxes in her face, hoping she noticed the sourness in my voice.
She didn't but as I pushed past her, she grabbed my arm and pulled me back.
"Don't you dare ruin this day for her," she hissed. "It would be best if you just smile and crawl back into whatever hole you live in after everything."
"That's kinda my plan," I said with a smirk.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Many people would be at the party. Important and dangerous. Even the future don of the Lentini family confirmed his presence. Don't you come near him. The slightest disrespect to him would be very disastrous to you...and to us."
I smirked.
Who was she kidding? I knew she didn't give a damn about me. All she cared about was herself and her daughter and the money my dad continually shelled out to her.
And I didn't know who this future don was, but I knew for certain the kind of people my dad did business with.
All those brawny men who regularly paid visits to my dad in his office never hid their specific tattoos or the fact that they wielded guns without carry permits.
"I don't have a death wish," I said. "So, there's no need to be afraid of me causing trouble."
Rousey held my gaze for a moment before she released my hand and sauntered away.
Finally, Becky put on her half-a-million-bucks worth wedding gown and was ready to walk down the aisle. I quickly slipped into my pink gown I had spent several hours adjusting and followed her through the long corridor which led to the garden where the ceremony was to take place.
The next thirty minutes were a blur. I barely saw Drake casting lustful glances at me, or heard the priestly blessings, or see Rousey in the front row, wiping tears from her eyes with a towel and my dad comforting her.
Then I was dragged to a photoshoot and lights flashed, capturing the newly married couple and the members of the 'happy' family.
That was the end of my part.
I stood in a corner watching those who actually enjoyed being here. I looked as my father embraced his favorite daughter.
I envied Becky even though I didn't want to. As fucked up as the McMahon family was, at least it was still a family. My only family, my mom, was in a coma and might never–
I shook my head to exorcise the thought and silently berated myself for thinking such thing.
I would get her the treatment she deserved. The doctor said there was a chance–she had a chance–and that was all that mattered to me.
The official part was over and I was now free to hide among the guests. Jade, my friend, as an heiress to the Atlas Hotels, was surely invited. I had only yet to find her. Her presence would be my only consolation and the chance to survive this hellish day.
Since I couldn't find Jade, I needed the next comfort this party could offer: a drink.
I snatched a glass of pornstar martini and drove off, scanning with my eyes for the least-occupied place to sit. I walked down a sandy path littered with flowers and confetti and found a quiet spot where three marble tables were set between the hedge walls.
Perfecto!
"Stephanie, right?"
I turned to see a man
Only then did I notice the distinct tattoo peeking out from beneath his partially unbuttoned shirt–tiny vines crawling up his neck with Latin words written in red ink.
"I'm Bernoulli and you look like you could use some sexy company," he said and barked a lewd laugh, his eyes darting down to my cleavage.
My jaw clenched. I could have fixed the popping out boobs problem but that didn't mean I could just make my boobs disappear, especially not in that dress.
"I'm good," I gritted out, giving him a tight smile. "I don't enjoy male company."
"Not what I heard," he interjected, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I heard you're rather desperate for a huge cock and a good fuck."
Everything in me froze. Drake. I just knew that son of a bitch had sent this son of a bitch. I stepped back and looked around furtively. Empty. Where had everyone gone suddenly? I might have been looking for a secluded spot, but come on!
He glanced lower and wet his lips with his tongue. "Is that pussy aching for me already?"
I took another step back, leaving my drink on the empty table. "I told you I'm not interested, so leave me the fuck alone," I hissed.
A cold chuckle escaped his lips. "That'll change in a minute." He lunged forward, grasping my wrist, and pulled me further in the hedge maze.
"Help!" I screamed, hoping desperately that someone heard. I kicked and scratched his arm, struggling to free myself from his grip. "Let go of me!"
He laughed. "I enjoy it better when they fight."
My stomach turned into lead and my heart sank. My shoes slipped off my feet as he dragged me further away from anyone who could see us, who could hear my cries...
Suddenly his grip on my arm loosened and I felt myself pushed to the side, as if away from harm's way. I regained my balance and straightened up just in time to see a dark haired man driving punches into Bernoulli's face before twisting his arm to the back.
Then...
SNAP!
My breath caught in my throat as I heard the sickening crack followed by Bernoulli's cry.
Did he just break my attacker's arm like it was nothing?
My attacker went down to the ground, whimpering, his free arm clutching his injured arm which had turned limp.
I struggled to breath as my gaze shifted uneasily from my attacker writhing on the floor to the one who had come to rescue me.
"Oh fuck," I whispered, my voice quivering, my eyes growing wide.
Francesco Giacomo.
He looked more stunning than he had looked just two days ago in the club. And as he threw his hair backward, and stepped forward, his lips spread in a thin, sultry smile, I couldn't help the urge that rose within me to throw myself on him and circle my arms around his neck and slam my lips into his.