19. Dante
Chapter 19
Dante
T he morning arrives, bringing with it an unwelcome and jarring surprise. My phone rings on the bedside table, forcing me awake. I scramble to grab it and shut off the ringer. “What?” I bark into the receiver, my voice muffled by my arm shielding my eyes from the brightness of day.
“Boss, we got a situation down here.”
It takes me a minute to realize I’m on the phone with Vince, one of the guards at the gate. “What kind of situation?” I hear yelling, and I can’t tell if it’s through the phone or outside my bedroom window.
“Ms. Castiglione is here. As instructed, we told her she is not allowed on the property without your permission. This upset her. Her driver has rammed the front gate several times at her behest. His front bumper is now stuck, and Ms. Castiglione is threatening to climb the fence if we do not let her in.”
My betrothed is pushing me to my limits. Every day, she tests my sanity. Adalina may be a wildfire, beautiful and out of control, but Lucrezia takes it to a new level. “I’ll come down there, Vince. Thanks for letting me know.”
I listen as he pokes his head out of the guard shack to deliver the news. It is quiet for a few moments before Vince returns to say, “This seems to have mollified Ms. Castiglione for the time being.”
I hang up. “Fuck Ms. Castiglione,” I mumble to the empty room.
I would give anything for three cups of coffee and a shot of vodka to fortify myself for the fight to come, but I have neither at my disposal. It’s too early for this shit, but I force myself out of bed and pull on a pair of jeans. They are scratchy and uncomfortable, but I don’t have time to find something else. I’m afraid if I leave Lucrezia at the gate too long, she’ll set fire to the property.
Enzo must still be asleep because he isn’t downstairs when I swing through the kitchen to grab an apple on my way out the door. Good for him. I’m glad someone gets to sleep in on this God-awful early Sunday morning.
As I approach the gate, I immediately see a chaotic scene unfolding two hundred yards away. Three men stand in a heated argument, their voices raised and gestures wild. The steam billowing from the nearby car adds to the tension in the air. I recognize one of the men as Lucrezia’s driver, but the other two work for me.
My betrothed, with her wide, sparkling eyes and bouncy energy, perks up the moment she notices me walking toward her. She’s adorned in a vibrant sundress that hugs every curve of her body, accentuating her youthful beauty. Despite her alluring appearance, I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt knowing she is still underage. My conscience tugs at me, reminding me that she’s also insane.
I take a crisp, juicy bite of the apple as I walk up, my lips curling into a frown at the absurdity of the situation. “What the fuck, Lucrezia?”
“Good morning,” she beams. “How is my future husband?”
That word makes me sick. “I’d be better if I was still sleeping. I had a late night.”
Lucrezia smirks as she leans against the iron bars of the gate, her long lashes batting flirtatiously at me. “Up late visiting your whores?” Her voice is laced with sharp sarcasm, contrasting her beautiful, innocent appearance.
“I don’t have to pay for sex, Lucrezia.”
She laughs breathily as if I just said the funniest thing in the world. I chalk her behavior up to madness and obsession. “You wouldn’t have to pay me to have sex with you, either,” Lucrezia offers.
My dick shrivels in response. I swear she turns the poor guy into an innie. “You’re sixteen, Lucrezia. I didn’t even fuck sixteen-year-olds when I was sixteen.”
“That means I’ll be your first. I love popping a man’s cherry,” she purrs, lightly tracing her finger along the metal. “I love breaking men in.”
I bet she does. I don’t care that she likes sex; I like sex. I would never begrudge another person for indulging in what excites them. But I’m not putting my dick in a man trap, and that’s exactly what Lucrezia Castiglione is. “What do you want? It’s,” I look at my watch, “7:12. On a Sunday.”
Lucrezia’s hands tighten around the bars, her face contorting as she presses it between them. With a twisted smile and manic eyes, she exudes the aura of a dangerously unhinged woman—the kind that simultaneously attracts and repels with her unpredictable nature. “I thought we might get breakfast together,” she coos.
With a flick of my wrist, I send the apple soaring into the air, watching as it spins and glints in the sunlight. My hand moves quickly to catch it in one smooth motion, savoring the satisfying crunch as I take another bite. “I got breakfast covered. Thanks, though.”
Her grip around the bars tightens, her knuckles turning white. “Why can’t I come in? The guy says I’m not allowed past the gates anymore.” Lucrezia’s bottom lip pushes out in a pout, her hazel eyes wide with disappointment.
“You abused your privileges the last time you were here. Maybe in a few years, when you stop acting like a crazy, jealous bitch, I’ll let you in my home again.”
Lucrezia clucks her tongue at me. “We’re getting married in less than two years, Dante. You’ll have to let me in sooner or later.”
“I’ve got a countdown, Lucrezia. I’m well aware of our upcoming nuptials.”
She releases the bars and drops her hand down between her thighs, stroking herself. “Because you can’t wait to be inside this warm, wet pussy?”
I’m done with the crazy this morning. I toss my apple at the car, leaving a tiny dent on the hood that is nothing compared to the dents in the fender from repeatedly ramming the gates. “You’ve got ten minutes to get off my property before Vince calls the cops.” I spin on my heel, the sound of my shoes scraping against the concrete as I walk away.
Lucrezia’s voice echoes behind me, her words stinging like a swarm of bees. “Dante, baby, please. We need to get to know each other before we get married.”
I thrust my hand into the air with my middle finger extended. “Fuck off, Lucrezia.”
How many more problems will I have to deal with? Tommaso Martinelli’s debt. Adalina’s stubbornness. Lucrezia Castiglione’s disturbing obsession with me. What else can I add to my plate?