"Biology," he sneers softly, placing a heavy hand on the dresser on either side of my hips, caging me in. "Is that what you call it when you dig your nails into my back and scream my name? Biology?"
"Fuck you," I whisper, my eyes stinging with frustrated, unshed tears. "You cornered me. You took advantage of the situation."
"I took what belonged to me," he corrects. He leans in, the heat of his bare chest radiating through the thin cotton of the shirt I’m wearing. "And let’s get one fucking thing straight, Noemi. You didn't just submit last night. You begged me for it. You shattered for me before I even pushed inside you."
A humiliated sob claws at my throat. I turn my face away, staring hard at the wall, refusing to let him see me cry. "Stop it."
"Why?" He drops his head, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending a treacherous, involuntary shiver down my spine. "Does it ruin the narrative you’ve built in your head? The one where I am just a violent monster and you are the tragic, unwilling victim?"
"You are a monster," I hiss, turning my head back to glare at him.
"I never claimed to be anything else," he agrees easily, a dark smirk curving his lips. "But I amyourmonster now. And you liked it. You liked exactly what I did to you in that bed."
"It doesn't matter," I push back, planting my hands flat against his chest, trying uselessly to shove him away. He is like a brick wall. "Last night doesn't change the reality of this situation, Cassio. I am still a prisoner in this house. You still treat me like an object. You still forced me into this marriage to secure a goddamn shipping port!"
"I forced Orlando's hand," he corrects smoothly, catching both of my wrists in one of his massive hands and pinning them gently to my chest. "I didn't know what you were. I didn't know I was getting a virgin queen hiding behind the mouth of a street thug."
"Don't call me that," I snap, my voice trembling. "Don't act like you revere me now just because my hymen was intact! You think that makes me yours? You think bleeding on your sheets suddenly erases the fact that you despised me yesterday?"
"I didn't despise you, Noemi," he says. "I despised the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about you. I despised the fact that Orlando Genovese handed me a woman I was supposed to ignore, and instead, you consumed every waking thought I had. And when I thought Dario Lombardi had his hands on you first..."
His jaw clenches, a violent, murderous twitch of muscle. "It made me want to burn the entire city to the ground."
I stare at him, completely thrown off balance by the unhinged honesty in his voice. He isn't playing a game. He isn't mocking me. He is stating a terrifying fact. Cassio Vellutini doesn't love me in any traditional, healthy sense. He is obsessed with me. He views me as his ultimate, untouched possession, a treasure he accidentally stole from his greatest enemy.
"It changes nothing," I say, but the words lack conviction. They sound hollow, desperate. "I will still hate you. I will still fight you every single day I am trapped in this house."
Cassio lets out a low, dark chuckle. He releases my wrists and reaches up, his large hands cupping my face. His thumbs stroke my cheekbones, his touch surprisingly, agonizingly gentle.
"Fight me all you want,moglie," he murmurs, his dark eyes burning into mine. "Scream at me. Throw things at my head. Tell me you hate me until your throat bleeds. But do not ever try to tell me that last night changes nothing."
He leans in, pressing his forehead against mine, forcing me to look directly into the pitch-black abyss of his eyes.
"It changes everything," he vows.
"How?" I challenge, a tear finally escaping and tracking down my cheek. "How does it change anything? You’re still going to lock me in this house. You’re still going to cut me off from the world."
"Yes," he agrees without a single ounce of hesitation. "I am going to lock you in. I am going to surround this estate with a hundred armed men. I am going to put a bullet between the eyes of any man who looks at you for longer than three seconds. But you aren't going to live in this wing anymore."
My breath catches. "What?"
"Your things are being moved into my room as we speak," he states calmly, as if he is discussing the weather and not completely upending my entire existence. "You sleep in my bed. You eat at my table. When I have meetings in my study, you willsit on the leather couch and read your books where I can see you."
"You can't do that!" I gasp, genuine panic flaring in my chest. "I need my own space! I can't be around you twenty-four hours a day, Cassio! I will suffocate!"
"You will breathe when I tell you to breathe," he counters, his grip on my face tightening just enough to be a warning. "You are not a ghost haunting the hallways of my home anymore, Noemi. You are the Lady of the Vellutini family. You are my wife. In every single sense of the word."
He tilts my head up, capturing my lips in a deep, bruising kiss. He explores my mouth with his tongue, tasting my tears, swallowing my protests, reminding me of exactly what my body felt like when he was buried deep inside me.
Despite my anger, despite my fear, my traitorous body instantly responds. My toes curl against the cold hardwood floor, a heavy, liquid heat pooling low in my belly. My hands, which should be pushing him away, remain curled uselessly against his chest.
He breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at my flushed, devastated face.
"The rules have changed," Cassio whispers, his thumb brushing over my swollen lower lip. "You wanted to know if last night was a mistake? It was the exact opposite. It was a revelation. I know what you are now. I know exactly how you taste, I know how yousound when you break, and I know that no other man on this earth has ever possessed you."
He drops his hands from my face and takes a step back. The sudden loss of his body heat leaves me shivering.
"Go take a shower," he orders, his tone reverting to the crisp, commanding authority of the Don. He turns and walks toward the bed. "Use the hot water to ease the soreness. Matteo’s wife is bringing over a new wardrobe for you this afternoon. The conservative bullshit your mother packed for you is being burned."