His Little Spitfire (Ruthless Obsession #2)

1. Urzo

1

Urzo

The moment she came crashing into my home, curses and threats flying from her lips, I knew she was going to be a problem. Down to where she was going to be the cause of every migraine.

Eliza Parada. Sister of Rocco Parada. The man who has been giving my family one hell of a hard time the last few years. From selling to our clients to killing our men and stealing both our products and our guns.

She came to rescue her sister from my brother. For whatever reason, Santino claimed the woman as his own. I don’t get it.

All my life, Santino has been cold-hearted and ruthless. One special woman comes into his life, and now he’s trying his best to do whatever he can to keep her on our side without a war brewing.

Now I’m involved, given an order I’m expected to follow. Even if it goes against everything I know, I have to follow along because it’s what helps my family.

So, I’m going to marry Eliza Parada. She’ll become a Bertelli, and Rocco can’t marry her off to strengthen his own forces. That’s my brother’s big plan. An arranged marriage .

I’ll sign a document, that’s not impossible. Santino wants me to wear a ring? I can ignore a bland band. To make my brother happy, I’ll become the husband to our enemy. Having her as my wife by title isn’t the problem here.

If I don’t start getting some kind of patience here, I’m going to end up killing this woman with my bare hands.

We’re approaching the decision with contrasting attitudes. With a door separating us, her shrills and curses make my temple pulsate. Once she started yelling, she hasn’t stopped .

Every second that passes, I feel like I’m growing crazier.

As the thought of sewing her mouth shut crossed my mind, I’m distracted by the sudden sound of wood splitting with a heavy thump against my back, accompanied by a pained curse.

Eliza isn’t taking the news too well, either. She’s a fighter, kicking the door separating us. Like my patience, it’s becoming thinner and thinner with every time she hits it. I’d hoped some time to herself would’ve calmed her down by now.

“I will not marry you, you sonofabitch!” Through the closed door, her words come through crystal clear, leaving no room for misunderstanding. She promises my death, one that will be painful and slow.

My arms cross tighter against my chest, my brows furrow lower with a frustrated sigh. Normally, I’ve got better control over myself. Hell, I’ve mastered a poker face. Something about this woman completely unravels everything I’ve worked towards.

Is it the heat behind her dark gaze and the lack of fear that makes me feel this way? Even more impressive, she’s not afraid to swing on those who can easily snap her neck. If it weren’t for her sister, Santino would’ve broken her wrists for landing a punch against his jaw. A lucky swing, I’m sure.

Another thump brings a growl from the pit of my chest. Turning around, I unlock the door and shove it open before she can do even more damage. At this point, the door is going to need to be replaced.

The woman stumbles back in surprise as I appear. Going as far as falling onto her ass, she glares up at me with a scowl.

This room serves as one of the extras used by guests who aren’t to be fully trusted. So, a broken lamp and window aren’t much to worry about, either. Even on the second floor, she can’t do much. However, I know whoever is going to have to clean up this room will not be too pleased. She’s even torn the paintings off of the wall, her destruction a result of her rage..

“Hoped to calm you down a little before letting you settle down.” Thirty minutes of solitude didn’t seem to do much. “Guess I wasted both of our time.”

Just as I take a step toward her, she’s smart enough to look around for some kind of weapon. Running isn’t an option, not unless she wants to get caught that much easier. If she wants to get the upper hand, then she’ll need something sharp. Something that can draw blood.

She spots a shard of the broken lamp as quickly as I do. There’s a half of a second of pure silence before she launches her body toward it. At the same time, I move toward her.

My hand finds her ankle, and I touch skin that is smooth and warm. As soon as I’ve got a grip, I easily yank her back. However, I’m not as quick as she is.

Gripping a different shard instead, Eliza swings her hand and almost makes contact with my jaw with it, attempting to extend the scar already engraved against my lips.

Growling, my other hand catches her wrist when she tries to cut me again.

Given our breathing, it feels more like we’ve run a marathon than fought over a piece of ceramic.

Instead of snapping her wrist, the easier thing to do, I’m thumping it against the space of the carpet above her head hard enough to make her release the piece, allowing it to bounce away. Releasing her ankle, I’m quick to do the same with the other wrist before pressing my knee against her hip to keep her from thrashing.

“Stop!” Growling, heat scorches my throat as I bark the order. My lungs burn as each breath comes out heavier than the last. “ Enough .”

The frustrations this woman brings me are endless. Enough to make me roar out my anger to release even a hint of the pressure that is leaving me feeling suffocating.

I’ve always solved all of my issues with my hands. I’ve beaten men until they were left gurgling and choking on their blood. My knuckles have been ruined over something as trivial as a disagreement amongst the men I take care of. I’ve pulled triggers on brothers who have become traitors to our family.

What in the fuck am I supposed to do about this woman? Santino thinks I can handle myself, and I can. However, how in the hell am I supposed to handle someone who isn’t afraid of me? I can’t hurt her. I can’t silence her.

Eliza’s eyes narrow on me, and for ten peaceful seconds of silence, we stare at each other. Then her jaw shifts as her teeth grind together.

Neither of us wants this. She’s too angry to see that I’m suffering as well.

Getting up, I use my grip on her wrists to pull her up. Already knowing where I’m going with this, she tries to tug herself free before I throw her over my shoulder. As of late, it’s been her way of transportation.

She’s smart, searching my waistband for my gun. Unfortunately for her, I’m smart too. Left it tucked away in my room, far away from her. However, I’m going to need to pick a new spot to hide it.

Weighing nothing, I’m hit with a wave of cinnamon as she tries to knee me in the chest. It leaves me dizzy, and I’m breathing in, much to my dismay.

It’s the same as the first time I threw her over my shoulder to get her here. The same wave that overcame me the first time she got in my face, demanding to know where Camellia was. The same scent that has everything I know flipped over.

When my cock stirs to life, I know something is wrong with me. I don’t know what in the hell this woman is doing to me, but I don’t like it. She’s stirring emotions in me like no one else ever has. There’s nothing to compare this feeling to so I can solve the issue and squash it down..

If she had a clue of what she was doing to me, I know she’d use her beauty against me. From fluttering her long eyelashes to touching me with her hands, I’m willing to bet she has an entire routine to getting her way.

That’s not to say I’d fall for her attempt to escape me, but I’m not willing to take a risk.

“Where are you taking me?” Demanding an answer, her body stills as she pants. Wearing herself out from constant movement, she’s now lying over my shoulder like a dead body.

“My–Our room,” I correct. “Might as well let you get comfortable. It’s where you’re going to be staying from this point on.”

“I am not sharing a room with you.” She spits the words like they’re an insult. “I’d rather get put in your torture chamber down below.”

Now there’s an idea. I wouldn’t mind strapping her down to a chair. First, I’d tape her mouth shut. Then, I’d happily wrap her body with ropes and tie them tight enough to make her see the truth. She’s not going anywhere.

Unfortunately, my mind does too good of a job of making my imagination come alive. I can picture the marks left on her skin and hear her muffled whimpers as she changes her mind.

I grunt, trying to clear my head before my cock risks engraving a zig-zag pattern along my entire shaft from how much it is pressing against the front of my slacks.

“If you want to keep seeing your sister, you will do as you’re told.” Hearing the way she sucks in a breath at the mention of her shared blood, I know this is a weakness for her. She may not like it, but we do have the upper hand in this. Camellia is nothing but a leash to this reckless woman. The only thing making her stay.

Thankfully, she doesn’t realize that Santino wouldn’t dare allow anything to happen to the woman he’s enamored with. He’s too fucking smitten.

“Be good, and you can keep seeing her. Once we’re married, you’ll be free to do as you please.” She can run for all I care. As long as Rocco can’t use her, that’s all I’m concerned with. Without his consent, he’s not getting much out of this. She must understand that much.

For once, she’s quiet. It’s an unsettling silence, but I’ll take it. Going back and forth with her is overly frustrating.

When we reach my room, I shove open the door and drop her onto the bed. Watching her bounce against the rumpled blankets, I notice the way the silk licks at her tanned skin. Blinking, I tear my eyes away.

My hands curl into fists as I move toward the desk against the wall. The wood groans beneath my weight as I get comfortable. Resting my back against the wall, my arms cross over my chest as I stare at her.

She sits up, glaring at me with dark eyes similar to my own. They seem darker when she’s in a foul mood. “You’re just going to sit there and watch me?”

“You think I’ll let you destroy my belongings?” I lift a brow. “Until I know you’ll be good, I’m going to do what is necessary. Thanks to you, my brother isn’t giving me any tasks. So, what’ll it be, princess? Are you going to calm down?”

From the way she prickles up, I know I’ve only stabbed the knife deeper into this wound of hers. Without a door separating us, I get to watch first-hand as the lack of fear forms behind her glare. Her anger outweighs everything else.

This is going to take far too long. My patience will continue to be pushed to its limits.

Might as well help her get everything out of her system so we can finally move on and get over this hump.

The sooner things can go back to normal, the better.