3. Chapter 3
Chapter three
Liria
A s Ettore entered my personal space, I could feel the heat radiating from his body. He crossed his arms in a defensive gesture, towering over me with his broad shoulders and muscular frame. I shifted my gaze away from his piercing eyes, afraid that I might lose my train of thought if I stared at him for too long. Despite my efforts to focus on anything else, it was impossible not to notice how strikingly handsome he was. His chiseled jawline and tousled hair only added to his undeniable charm.
I couldn’t bear the thought of marrying Dillon. His arrogant demeanor, annoying habits, and his constant belittling of me only fueled my desire to escape. On the other hand, Ettore was a wild card - unpredictable, but also potentially dangerous. The thought of choosing between the two sent shivers down my spine as I contemplated the unknown paths each one could take me down.
“Ok,” I said quietly.
He only desired to marry me for the benefits associated with my family’s name. The only moments Ettore would show an interest in me were when it benefited his social standing. I would otherwise be free to live my own life.
I also had no idea what to do with the power I had just inherited. What was I supposed to do with this newfound responsibility I didn't want?
Most importantly, I owed him my life. I was a sheltered, naive girl, but even I knew that was a debt that was near impossible to pay back. Even this marriage wouldn’t cover what he had done for me.
“Fantastic,” Ettore held my right hand and unceremoniously pulled Dillon's ring off my finger, tossing it across the room into a metal wastebin. Then, he took a box out of his pocket. He opened it and carefully slid the new ring on to my finger.
“How were you so sure I was going to say yes?” I sputtered, my face turning bright red.
“Oh, I was going to make sure you said yes.” He shot me a sadistic grin. “By any means necessary.”
When he spoke those words, his tone was not threatening but rather suggestive. The innuendo hung in the air between them like a thick cloud of smoke, hinting at underlying desires and intentions. It was a subtle but powerful weapon, one that could easily disarm and entice its target. Especially with looks like his.
“Still here,” Felix said.
“Make use of yourself and clean this up,” Ettore said, gesturing to my pile of vomit on the floor.
“Have I been reduced to a janitor? Last time I checked, my resume included professional killing and drug trafficking.”
“Find someone to clean it up.”
“At least I’m head Janitor.” Felix stood and left the room, going to look for a grunt to clean up the mess I had left behind.
Ettore’s gaze fixated back on me, and my eyes quickly flitted towards the floor. “Oh, and Hilaria,” his voice caused a shiver to run down my spine, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Don’t expect me to be a loving, doting husband.”
He was warning me up front he was going to ignore me. In the back of my mind, I had held some hope Ettore would want to get to know me as a person and make this a genuine marriage. One based on love and not benefits and debt. But his response killed any dreams I had left.
“Liria,” I responded quietly, still looking at my toes on the floor.
“What?”
“You can call me Liria.”
I had said it spur of the moment. Only my best friend called me by my nickname. Everyone else in my life referred to me by my full name my parents had given me. I hated it. It was an ugly name, and I always felt it didn’t suit me. Now, with both of them gone, it felt appropriate to use the name I liked better.
“Alright then. Time to go home, Liria.”
“Ok. I live in the gated neighborhood.”
Ettore would know what that meant. It homed many rich people, including celebrities, politicians, and mafia families. I waited for him to respond, but all I got was an amused look from him.
“We’re going back to my place.”
“Huh?!” I said, shrinking away from him.
My father was fiercely traditional. Growing up, I had never given more than a handshake to a boy my age. Even with Dillon, the only thing I had done was give him a hug, and we had been engaged. Staying over at a man’s house was out of the question.
“N-No, that’s ok. I’ll go back to my place.”
“It wasn’t an option, Princess. I’m sure the men that killed your father are out there looking for you right now.” He fumbled around in his desk drawer for something, and I saw him pull out a set of keys. “And we’re engaged. You’re moving in.”
Before I could protest, Ettore had grabbed my wrist in a firm grip. His touch was electric, causing my heart to race and my stomach to lurch with a strange mix of fear and anticipation. He led me out the door and down a labyrinth of shadowy corridors until we reached the exit door.
His car was a sleek black vehicle that looked like it belonged in an action movie, not real life. Ettore opened the passenger door for me, and I hesitated before sliding in, feeling the cool leather under my fingertips as I buckled myself in. He slipped into the driver's seat fluidly, starting the car with a purr that echoed through the enclosed space.
As we sped through the city streets, I stole glances at his profile. He drove with an effortless grace, one hand on the wheel while the other rested on his thigh just inches from my own. The silence between us was deafening, but Ettore seemed unfazed by it.
The sound of my phone ringing cut through the silence. I fumbled through my purse, digging through the random contents, until I finally found it. Dillon’s name was on the caller ID. I should let him know I was okay, but I didn’t know what to say.
Ettore glanced at the screen from the corner of his eye. “You should pick up.”
“Yeah…” Taking a deep breath in, I tapped the green phone icon. “Hello?”
“Hilaria? Oh, thank god you’re ok,” Dillon said.
“Yeah,” I responded, because I had no idea what to say back.
“I’m ok,” he continued. “When that horrid man flipped my chair over, it knocked me out of the way of the bullet’s path.”
“Regret that,” Ettore muttered under his breath.
Dillon continued to chatter on about himself and the shooting. I had never been so grateful for his personality and the need to dominate a conversation. I could not bring myself to talk. At the end, he mentioned he had heard about my father’s passing.
“Where are you? I know it’s sudden, but we may have to expedite the wedding so you can come live with me.”
Ettore yanked the phone out of my hand. “The wedding is off. She’s engaged to someone else.”
He tapped the end call button before powering down my phone.
“Hey!” I protested, reaching out for my phone, but Ettore held it just out of reach.
“What?” He looked at me, his brow arched in challenge. His eyes held a kind of daring gleam that made me swallow my retort. “He had to know sooner or later.”
Ettore tossed the phone into the back seat and shifted gears as we pulled onto a freeway.
So far, I didn’t like Ettore. Not for the reasons one might expect, such as kidnapping me or near forcing me to marry him. No, it was because he brought out a side of me that barely saw the light of day. I was always shy and never talked back. But every action he did got a reaction out of me.
“Just who do you think you are?” I demanded, glaring at him.
“I’m the man who saved your life,” he said flatly. “Now, I suggest you keep quiet and let me drive.”
His words came off more as an order than a suggestion. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away, staring out of the window instead.
He didn’t spare me a second glance as he kept his eyes firmly on the road. We spent the rest of the drive back to his house in silence. My stomach twisted as he drove us deep into the city - I had never liked the hustle and bustle, and preferred growing up just outside of it. After a long ride, we arrived at an upscale building and he drove down into the underground parking area.
Ettore parked the car and stepped out without saying a word. I followed suit, opening the back door in search of my phone. I couldn’t help but curse him in my head for being so frustrating and tossing it into the backseat.
We rode the elevator up in silence to his penthouse. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal a landing that was…surprisingly under furnished. The amount of furniture he had did not match the size of the home he lived in.
“I don’t spend a lot of time here,” Ettore said, as if reading my mind.
“Oh.”
“Let’s go to bed. It’s late.”
My exhaustion didn’t register until he spoke the words aloud. It was as if all the tiring events from the day caught up to me and hit me like a freight train. Every limb in my body felt heavy, and it felt like I could barely keep my eyes open.
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Where is my bedroom?”
He laughed at me. I should have been used to it by now, but I still felt a slight flare of irritation.
“They’re already occupied, Princess. A gym and my office.”
“Oh…why didn’t you take me home if there was nowhere for me to sleep?” I nibbled on my lower lip. Now I was too tired to be driven all the way back there. “Is there a hotel close to here?”
More laughter directed towards me. “You can sleep in my bed. You’re my fiancée.”
That jolted me awake. Me, sleep in bed with a man I had met only a few hours ago? Being the Don of the Moretti family and my fiancé didn’t matter; his intentions were still a mystery to me.
I could see how many would say yes, as Ettore’s striking appearance could easily grace the cover of GQ. His sharp jawline and honey brown eyes were perfectly accentuated by his tailored suit, making it nearly impossible to refuse him. However, I had had modesty drilled into my brain from a young age, and sleeping in a bed with a man who wasn’t my husband was forbidden.
“Why are you blushing?” he asked.
“No I’m not!” I blurted out, feeling my body grow even hotter.
“O-K,” he responded, enunciating each syllable, an amused look on his face. “Sleep where you want, then.”
The only viable option was the loveseat in the living room, and the cushions resembled solid rocks. The small size of the loveseat made me doubt if I could even fit on it, despite how short I was. I could already imagine myself trying to curl up on it, only to find my limbs awkwardly sticking out over the edges. It didn’t look like the most comfortable spot to spend an evening, but it would have to suffice.
“There might be an extra blanket in the hall cabinet.” Without sparing me another glance, he walked into his bedroom and shut the door.
“Might be?” I scoffed to myself.