Chapter 19 Carmela
CARMELA
Itake another sip of my drink, the bitter liquid burning my throat as I watch Sophia move her body to the pulsing beat on the dance floor. The flashing lights and pounding music assault my senses. We’ve been here for hours, and the excitement has worn off, replaced by a dull throb in my temples.
A sleazy guy slides up next to me at the bar, his eyes roaming over my body like I’m a piece of meat. “Hey, beautiful, can I buy you a drink?” he slurs, his breath reeking of alcohol.
I glare at him, disgust twisting in my gut. “No thanks,” I snap, turning away from him. But he doesn’t take the hint, his sweaty hand grabbing my arm.
“Come on, baby, don’t be like that,” he whines, trying to pull me toward him.
Anger flares through me, and I yank my arm out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss through gritted teeth. “I’m married.”
The words come naturally now, not strange or forced as they might have weeks ago. Married. To Silvo. And the thought of anyone else touching me makes my skin crawl in a way that has nothing to do with duty and everything to do with desire.
I shake my head slightly. When did that happen? When did I start thinking of myself as truly his?
But I know the answer. It’s been happening gradually—through every heated glance, every vulnerable conversation, every moment when he proves he sees me as more than just a trophy wife.
I down the rest of my drink, setting the glass on the bar with more force than necessary.
Maybe coming here was about proving I still could—that I haven’t completely lost myself to being Mrs. De Luca.
But now that I’m here, surrounded by groping hands and leering stares, all I want is to be home with Silvo.
The realization should scare me, but it doesn’t. Not anymore.
I scan the crowded club for Sophia, spotting her still lost in the music. I’ll give her five more minutes, and then I’m dragging her out of here and going home to my husband. Where I want to be.
Sophia’s eyes meet mine, and I mouth the word “Restroom.”
I turn to head toward the restroom, pulling out my phone to finally check the messages I’ve been ignoring. Three missed calls from Silvo. Five texts. My stomach twists with guilt—I should have checked in, let him know I was okay.
But before I can read his messages, a large hand grabs my arm and yanks me backward.
I stumble, slamming against the rough brick wall near the club’s back hallway. Panic surges through me as I look up into the leering face of a man I’ve never seen before. His eyes are glassy, and his breath reeks of cheap beer.
“I’ve been watching you all night, beautiful,” he slurs, pressing his body against mine. I try to shove him away, but he’s too strong, pinning me in place with his bulk.
“Get off me!” I shout, my voice drowned out by the pounding music. I struggle against his hold, twisting and clawing at his arms, but it’s no use. No one can hear my cries for help over the din of the club.
Bile rises in my throat as I feel his hand sliding up my thigh, pushing the hem of my dress higher. His touch makes my skin crawl, and I squeeze my eyes shut, praying for this nightmare to end.
Suddenly, a dark figure looms behind my attacker, yanking him off me with brutal force. I gasp, my heart pounding as I recognize Silvo’s enraged face.
His eyes blaze with fury as he slams the man against the wall, his forearm pressed against the drunk’s throat. “You dare touch my wife?” Silvo snarls, his voice deadly.
The man sputters and chokes, his eyes wide with fear. But Silvo shows no mercy, his fist slamming into the man’s face with a sickening crunch. Blood spurts from the man’s nose as he crumples to the ground, whimpering pathetically.
I should be horrified by Silvo’s violence, by the savagery in his eyes as he kicks the man in the ribs. But instead, relief washes over me, so strong it makes my knees weak.
Silvo saved me. He protected me when I needed him most. The violence that should repel me only makes me feel safer, more protected.
My beast of a husband turns to me, his chest heaving and his knuckles bloody. His eyes rake over my body, checking for injuries. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice rough with emotion.
I nod, my throat too tight to speak. Silvo pulls me into his arms, crushing me against his solid chest. I cling to him, breathing in his familiar scent of sandalwood and musk.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my hair. “You’re safe now.”
Safe. In Silvo’s arms, I finally feel safe. The adrenaline fades, leaving me shaky and exhausted. But there’s something else too—a hunger that burns through my veins, intensified by the danger and his fierce protection.
I tilt my head back, meeting Silvo’s intense gaze. The heat in his eyes matches my own, and I know he feels it too. This undeniable pull between us, this primal need.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I should have answered your calls. I should have—”
“We’ll talk about it later,” he says, his thumb stroking my cheek. “Right now, I need to get you home.”
But there’s no real anger in his voice anymore—just relief and that possessive heat that makes my core clench.
“I want to go home,” I admit. “With you.”
Something shifts in his expression—satisfaction mixed with tenderness. “Then let’s go home, wife.”
He keeps me tucked against his side as we make our way back through the club, and I realize I’m not fighting his protectiveness anymore. I’m leaning into it, accepting it, wanting it.
Maybe that’s what was missing all night—him.
Silvo’s gaze darkens, his eyes practically burning. I shiver, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension as his lips brush my ear, his breath warm against my skin.
“You’ve been a very bad girl, baby.” His voice is rough, sending shivers down my spine. “Not answering your phone, making me worry.”
My heart hammers in my chest as he threads his fingers through mine, his touch possessive. “I should teach you a lesson,” he whispers. “Bend you over my knee and spank that beautiful ass of yours until it’s nice and red.”
I swallow hard, my breath coming in short gasps. The boldness of his words sends a rush of heat between my thighs. “Silvo—”
But he cuts me off, his lips claiming mine in a fierce kiss. I melt into him, my hands tangling in his hair as the kiss deepens. His tongue teases mine, tasting of mint and promise.
His hands roam over my body, igniting trails of fire everywhere they touch. “I’m going to take you home,” he growls against my mouth. “And I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember anyone else’s touch but mine.”
A moan escapes my throat at his graphic words. The pulsing beat of the club seems to fade away, leaving only the two of us in our own world.
Silvo’s hands slide down to cup my ass, pulling me tightly against his thick cock.
“I’m going to start by ripping that pretty dress off you and tossing you over the bed.
” His thumbs stroke the sensitive skin just below the hem of my dress, making me squirm.
“Then I’m going to spank you until your ass is burning and you’re begging me to stop. ”
I whimper, my face flaming hot as my body betrays me, yearning for his touch. “Silvo, please...”
“Please, what, Carmela?” He nips at my ear, his hands continuing their torturous path. “Are you going to beg me to fuck you? To make you forget all about that piece of trash who touched you tonight?”
“Yes,” I whisper, my face pressed against his neck. “Please, Silvo. Make me forget everything but you.”
“As you wish, baby.” He crushes his lips to mine in one last dizzying kiss before leading me out of the club and to his car.
I slide into the passenger seat of Silvo’s car, my heart still pounding from our heated encounter in the club. Sophia is sitting in the back, chatting animatedly with Silvo’s brother Fed. But as soon as Silvo climbs into the driver’s side, Fed’s eyes zero in on his bloody knuckles.
“Whoa, what happened to you?” Fed asks, his brow furrowing with concern. “You get in a fight or something?”
Silvo flexes his hand, wincing slightly. “Some asshole was getting handsy with Carmela. I had to teach him a lesson.”
Fed’s eyes widen, and he looks over at me, as if checking for himself that I’m okay. I give him a small nod, trying to reassure him that I’m fine. Physically, at least. Emotionally, I’m still processing everything.
“Damn, Silvo. You really did a number on him, huh?” Fed says, a hint of admiration in his voice. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
Silvo just grunts, his jaw clenched tight. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves, and I know he’s still processing what happened.
Sophia reaches forward and squeezes my shoulder. “Are you okay, Carmela?”
I swallow hard, forcing a smile and glance back at her. “I’m fine, Soph. Thanks to Silvo.” I glance over at him, meeting his intense gaze. “He saved me.”
Something flickers in Silvo’s eyes—possessiveness, relief, and something deeper. He reaches over and takes my hand, lacing our fingers together on the center console. “I’ll always protect you. No matter what.”
His words send a shiver down my spine. I know Silvo would do anything to keep me safe, and tonight proved it. The violence should disturb me, but instead it only makes me feel more connected to him, more certain that despite how this marriage started, it’s becoming something real.
I squeeze his hand, my heart racing as I meet his heated gaze. “I know you will,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the hum of the car engine. “I trust you, Silvo.”
And I mean it. Completely.