Page 130 of Ruthless God

“What?”

“Giulia’s birthday party is tomorrow.”

My eyes widened. “That’s right! I totally forgot. I don’t think I’ve picked out a birthday present for her.”

“It’s okay,” he said, looking at me softly. “I got that part covered. All you have to do is show up and have fun.”

“Show up and have fun,” I repeated. He made it sound so simple.

He kissed me briefly. “Yup. That is your only job tomorrow.”

“Right.”

Did I even know how to have fun?

I ranmy hands down the silky red dress in the back of a black car. Massimo was next to me, his face dark and thunderous.

I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m already nervous enough about being in a room full of people I don’t know well. Can’t you at least smile?”

He shot me a predatory smile, depicting no friendliness or happiness. The action pulled at the scars on his face, reminding me of how I thought he was when we first married.

I shivered. “Never mind, don’t smile. Don’t smile for the rest of the day, got it?”

I pointed my finger at him. He looked down at it, then back at me. I tried to pull my hand away, but it was too late. He nipped my finger, causing me to yelp in the back of the car and the driver to look back at us through the rearview mirror. My face heated, and I shot Massimo a nasty look.

“Are you going to throw a tantrum all night?” I asked. Because if that was the case, I was going to have Matteo drive me home.

“Tantrum?” he growled, pulling me in close to him. “I do not throw tantrums, baby.”

“Then what are you doing now?” I retorted. I looked back down at the dress. “Matteo thought I looked pretty when I tried on the dress in the shop.”

“Remind me to fucking kill him when we see him,” he said.

I gasped. “You will do no such thing to your brother. I like Matteo.”

He let out a small sigh. “Youdolook pretty. That is not the problem, wife.”

“Is it because I’m showing a bit of skin?”

Massimo’s eyes darkened. “A bit? That dress is missing an entire back. Every man in that room will be undressing you with their eyes.”

I scoffed, trying to ignore the thrill his possessiveness sent through me. “Like they would even do that when I’m your wife, and you know it. It’s just a dress, Massimo. And I’m your wife. Don’t you trust me?”

I pouted up at him.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against my skin, causing shivers to run up and down my body. “It’s not you I don’t trust,principessa. It’s them. I don’t fucking share what’s mine. I might kill any fucker who looks at you just a little too long.”

I shivered, torn between arousal and frustration. Even if I loved that he didn’t want to share me, this was an overreaction, wasn’t it?

“Well, I thought I looked pretty. I chose this dress for that very reason. I wanted to be someone you can be proud of having on your arm.”

His hand slid up my thigh, fingers tracing the slit in my dress. “I’m always proud to have you on my arm.”

“Yeah?” I asked, my voice soft.

“Yes,” he said, kissing the side of my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I like it when you’re possessive with me, but—” I held up my finger when it looked like he was about to say something to that. “Not when you’re being frustrating.”