Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride novel Chapter 19

Dante's POV

Gia squirmed like a wildcat slung over my shoulder, kicking, twisting, her fists beating uselessly against my back, but none of it mattered. If anything, every scratch, every wiggle, every breath that left her mouth only fueled the fire already roaring through my veins.

"Put me down!" she shouted for the tenth time, her voice muffled against my back.

I didn’t even acknowledge it.

My boots hit the marble hard as I stormed down the hallway. A few of my men caught sight of me coming and instantly stepped out of my path. No one dared to speak or even look for more than a second.

Her voice rose again, irritated. “You’re insane!” she cried, her fists pounding harder. “You can’t just drag people around like sacks of flour!”

The only response she got was the tightening of my arm around her thighs.

She could yell herself hoarse, I wasn’t stopping. Her words still rang in my head like a damn war drum.

She thought she could disrespect me, emasculate me, challenge me, humiliate me, and worst of all, she thought she could do it in front of my men wearing a fucking smirk, without consequence.

Not a chance in hell.

I reached my office, kicked the door open so hard it slammed against the wall, and walked straight in. One firm shove of my shoulder sent the door slamming shut behind us.

I threw her off my shoulder. She hit the floor with a huff, palms catching her weight as she scrambled back, her hair a wild mess around her face.

I stood there, chest heaving, rage choking me at the throat.

She looked up at me like she was ready to bite, and then... she did the one thing I didn’t expect.

She giggled.

A low, breathy giggle at first. Then it grew, tumbling out of her in mocking bursts that only made my hands clench tighter at my sides.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, then let it fall just as dramatically. “What? You thought I’d cry?”

Her grin was a slash across her face. “Aww. Poor Don Dante. Did I hurt your ego in front of your crew?”

My jaw twitched.

“You think I’m going to sit here and beg? No, sweetheart. I’m going to laugh. Because this? This right here? You are a fucking joke.”

For a brief moment, I just stared at her.

This girl had to be insane. About to be punished, and she was laughing in my face, pushing me even further to do my worst.

No other woman would dare mock me in my face like this.

But she was going to learn today, whether she liked it or not, what it meant to go against Dante De Luca.

I took a step closer, forcing her to take steps backward until her legs brushed against my desk and she stopped.

“You think that smirk won’t be wiped off?” I growled, each word slow and lethal. “Keep laughing. You won’t be for long.”

Her breath hitched, I heard it, strained and involuntary. A shiver rolled through her body, starting in her shoulders and rippling down to the way her thighs clenched ever so slightly. She tried to hide it, to keep her breathing even, but I saw everything. I always did.

She wanted to act unaffected, but her body was already betraying her.

“Don’t take the words of a little girl too seriously,” she bit out, her voice bold enough to be convincing to anyone but me. “I didn’t mean to poke your precious ego.”

I smirked. She was still playing her defiant games, still thinking she could talk her way out of this. Foolish girl. Nothing on earth was going to save her from the cold punishment I had in store.

I leaned down, my voice dripping with mockery.

“In life, there are consequences for one’s actions. And just like I warned you... they can be dire. And this, Gia... this is yours. I’m going to enjoy teaching this little girl her place, so she never dares challenge me again.”

Her cheek was pressed flat against the table, her voice strained but defiant.

“I didn’t mean to challenge you... but you’re the one who triggered me with that ridiculous proposition of me giving up my dad.”

Ridiculous proposition? The words echoed in my head, fueling the fire already burning in my veins. Even now, when I had her bent and spread for me, she still had the audacity to throw her challenging words in my face.

I reached down, my fingers rough with frustration, as I gripped the waistband of her panties, tugging them down her thighs.

She instinctively pressed her legs together, fighting me off. But I forced them apart with a firm grip. The lace slid down her thighs, over her knees, and I kicked them aside, letting them fall in a heap on the floor.

I stood there for a moment, taking her in.

Her soft heat was spread open.