Extended Epilogue
Valentina
As a Dante daughter, I've lived my entire life with boundaries that my brothers crossed without consequence.
Well, Luca was exiled, but in the end he became something bigger and more powerful than he would have had he stayed here.
Sure, Alessandro has looped me into the family business.
He’s listened to and respected my input, but in the end, my life isn’t my own.
Rules for me have always been different.
I’ve accepted that, found a way to live fully within the constraints.
But this new arrangement feels like a lifetime sentence for someone else's crime.
The only bright point is my bodyguard.
Cristian Bonetti.
His family has been with mine for generations.
He’s as loyal as they come, which is why Alessandro assigned him to protect me from Maksim and the Bratva, at least until marriage.
Unless Cristian joins us in the marriage bed, there’s little that can be done to protect me then.
I sense him before I see him, as I take refuge in the garden.
I pretend not to notice as I make my way through the rows of flowers, but it's pointless.
The man is six-foot-four of solid muscle.
"You don't need to follow me to the rose bushes, Bonetti. I doubt there's a Russian assassin hiding among the thorns."
He doesn't smile. He never does. "Your brother's orders were clear."
"And God forbid anyone disobey Alessandro." I snap a bloom off its stem, ignoring the prick of thorns against my fingers.
It’s been two weeks since Luca and Katerina left for Chicago.
I watched them at their wedding, how they looked at each other like nothing else existed.
How Luca's hand never left the small of her back, as if afraid she might disappear if he wasn't touching her.
She glowed with that bright light of a woman who knows she is cherished.
I will never know that light.
My marriage will be different.
Clinical.
A business arrangement sealed with a ring and a reluctant kiss.
There will be no love in Maksim's bed.
Only duty.
"You're bleeding." Cristian's voice startles me. I look down to see blood beading along my finger where a thorn has broken skin.
"It's nothing." I wipe it against my black dress.
"You should be more careful." Something in his tone makes me look up.
For once, his dark eyes aren't scanning the perimeter but fixed on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
I shake away his effect on me.
"What would be the point?" I don’t hide the bitterness in my voice. "I'm already being sacrificed."
His jaw tightens, and I think he might say something, but he doesn’t, too loyal to Alessandro to say something real.
I envy Luca his freedom, his chance at happiness.
While I prepare to freeze in a marriage as cold as a Russian winter, he builds a family in the warmth of genuine love.
Some Dantes get happy endings. Just not me.
But I’m resolved. I wasn’t lying when I told Luca I was ready to make this sacrifice.
Truthfully, I’m happy to be able to do something that helps the family.
It makes me feel important to the family legacy.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared.
I'm not naive about what awaits me in Maksim's bed.
The whispers about his cruelty aren't just rumors.
They’re more like warnings.
My body will become another territory for him to conquer, another possession to break at his leisure.
And because of that, I desperately would like to know what true love is like. Well, maybe not love.
Mutually satisfying sex is more like it. If I must surrender my body to a monster, I refuse to let him be the first to claim it.
I glance at Cristian.
He's checking the perimeter, unaware of my eyes on him.
I’ve thought men were handsome before, but Cristian is more than that.
When I look at him, it feels like all my neurons light up.
I tingle from head to toe.
I've caught him looking when he thinks I won't notice.
Not just a bodyguard checking on his client, but a flash of something primal in his dark eyes when I’m in his presence.
He's a man beneath that soldier's exterior, and men have weaknesses.
I mean, even Alessandro's most loyal dog must have desires, right?
I decide to test my theory. I make my way toward the pool.
As expected, his attention snaps to me.
“Don’t mind me,” I call out. “Just taking a swim.”
Heat shimmers off the patio surrounding the pool.
Without hesitation, I peel my sundress down my shoulders, over my hips, letting it pool at my feet.
The air kisses my nearly naked body as I stand in nothing but lace panties.
Cristian stands at attention near the garden entrance, pretending not to watch me.
His rigid posture only fuels my determination.
I wonder what it would take to make him lose his control.
“It’s so hot today.” I stretch, arching back, exposing my breasts, my body.
I’m baring it all.
Well, almost.
I wiggle my ass as I push my panties down and kick them off.
His eyes widen, jaw clenching tight. "Miss Dante—"
I cut him off with a laugh and dive into the cool water.
The shock of it against my heated skin sends electricity through my veins.
I surface, slicking my hair back, feeling more alive than I have in weeks.
"Valentina!" Cristian hisses, scanning the perimeter frantically as he rushes toward the pool. "Anyone could see you."
"Let them look," I taunt, floating on my back, breasts breaking the water's surface. "I don’t really belong to myself anyway."
His face darkens. "You need to get out. Now."
"Make me."
He approaches the edge, extending his hand with exasperation. "This isn't a game."
"I’m having fun.” I swim to him slowly, predator-like. Taking his outstretched hand, I smile sweetly and then yank with all my strength.
His expression shifts from annoyance to shock as he topples forward, crashing into the water fully clothed.
He surfaces sputtering, dark hair plastered to his forehead, white shirt now transparent and clinging to every sculpted muscle.
Holy cow.
All I can think is how much I want to drag my tongue over the hard lines of his chest.
"You've lost your mind," he growls.
"Maybe.” I swim closer to him, growing aware of how close we are. "Or maybe I've finally found it."
I'm treading water, but my body gravitates toward him like a magnet.
"You shouldn't provoke me," Cristian warns.
"Why not? Afraid you might enjoy it?"
Something snaps in his expression.
In one fluid motion, he closes the distance between us, his powerful arms pulling me against his chest.
The sudden contact steals my breath.
His heart hammers against mine, our skin separated by nothing but his transparent shirt.
I feel weightless in his grip, yet anchored for the first time ever.
I loop my arms around his neck, my bare breasts pressing against him.
Water droplets cling to his eyelashes as he stares down at me, conflict raging in his eyes.
"Kiss me," I challenge. "You know you want to."
His jaw flexes.
I can feel every inch where our bodies connect, including the unmistakable evidence of his desire pressing against my belly.
The sensation sends liquid heat pooling between my thighs.
I’m a virgin, but I understand how things work between men and women, and the signs of arousal even in myself.
"This isn't what you truly want," he says, but his voice is rough with restraint.
The game is intoxicating. It’s like dancing on a precipice.
For the first time in weeks, I feel alive, powerful.
"Don't tell me what I want." I thread my fingers through his wet hair, tugging slightly. "I'm tired of men deciding that for me."
For one breathless moment, I think he'll surrender.
His eyes darken, his grip tightens, and his gaze drops to my lips.
Then, like a door slamming shut, his struggle ends.
The soldier shuts down the man.
"I won't be another man who takes your choices away," he says, shifting and tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
The rejection stings, but there’s something else.
With everything I offered, he refused to be another person who uses me.
How can I not respect him for that, even if it leaves me sexually frustrated?
He carries me out of the pool and unceremoniously sets me down.
The cool air on my wet skin raises goosebumps across my naked breasts.
I don't cover myself.
Let him look.
Let him regret his nobility.
Cristian grabs a towel and drapes it over my shoulders, his hands brushing down over my breasts, lingering for just long enough to betray him.
Then he steps back, creating distance between us.
"I don’t know what game you’re playing, but this isn't who you are," he says angrily.
"You have no idea who I am." I want to throw the towel off, but I don’t. It will only make me look childish.
"I’ve known you for a long time. I know exactly who you are."
My cheeks burn. "Then you know I take what I want."
"What you need is to get dressed." He turns away, wringing water from his shirt. "I'll give you privacy."
"Such a gentleman,” I sneer. "Tell me, Cristian, will Maksim be as considerate when he takes what he wants?"
His back stiffens. "I'll wait inside," he says, refusing to engage.
When he's gone, I let out a frustrated groan and sag into the chaise lounge.
The towel slips, and I don't bother fixing it.
The sun warms my skin as my mind races through what just happened.
What almost happened.
I came so close to knowing true passion.
I saw desire in his eyes, felt it in his body.
He wants me.
But his damned loyalty is stronger than his lust.
Still, the attraction is there.
I just need to persist.
A smile curves my lips as my determination grows.
If my virginity is to be sacrificed, I'll choose the altar.
And Cristian Bonetti's bed is a far more appealing option than Maksim Vasiliev's.
This isn't over. I've only just begun.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Read Valentina’s story here.