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I pulled a blade from my dress and put it to his throat. “No, but neither will you. This isn’t the place to mess with a Vitale, is it?”

A hand comes up between us, and I see it’s my father. “Princess,” he says as a light warning. We’re in company, so I slowly back down without taking my eyes away from Cordova. That’s when I notice his father is now standing directly behind his rude ass.

The older man looks at me and then over my shoulder to my father. “Sorry. Terribly sorry, Ms. Vitale. He’s just drunk,” Cordova’s father says.

“It’s time you went home,” my father says, making a point.

“We’re sorry about all of this,” he says, leading him away, but not before his asshole son gets one more jab out.

“Maybe his daughter shouldn’t look like a fucking hooker, and then I wouldn’t have offered to fuck such a hot piece of ass.”

“All deals are off,” my father utters.

“Noted and understood.” He drags his son away and mutters something about being a total fucking failure.

“I’m sorry about that, Princess.”

“No, I knew this outfit was going to draw attention, and with that comes the fucking super creeps. You’d think that my status would stop the idiots, but it doesn’t.”

“We need to get you married, and then they’ll stop,” my brother adds. There’s only one man I’m interested in, and I doubt that will ever happen.

“I’m probably never getting married.”

“We’ll see about that,” he scoffs and then takes his drink from the bartender and walks away.

“Relax and have a drink, Princess. I’m sorry about all of this, but I’m sure things will get better. You don’t look like a hooker, by the way. You look beautiful tonight.”

Still, I can only think of one man I want to see me in this or to tear it off with his teeth. I know it’s not going to happen. I want to change, but I know that’s also not going to happen.

Suddenly, the air changes around me as someone comes up behind me. “Did you miss me?” A heated chill washes over me as his words kiss my throat. A wave of longing simmers through my veins.

“Ian?” My voice is just above a whisper. “What are you doing here?” The words come out shaky, all my nerves on edge.

“I was invited.” A growl falls from his powerful mouth. “And damn, I think your father is trying to get me killed or have me arrested for murder because this outfit is a fucking piece of cloth barely covering your pussy and has short-circuited my brain. I’m about to gouge out the eyeballs of some of these pricks.” I’m grateful he missed the scene that played out moments ago.

He slides his hand across my waist, pulling me into his chest. “God, you feel incredible. I want to eat you up. I feel like this is deja vu. This time you won’t be leaving my bed.”

“I believe that was a hotel room.”

He dips his head, nuzzling my neck, and I don’t even bother to stop him. “Don’t tempt me, little girl.” He takes my hand and slides a ring onto it. “You’re mine. And I want everyone here to know it.”

“What?”

“You heard me, my little mafia princess.”

“Ian,” I sigh, facing him, and lift my head, my lips brushing his chin. He smiles and lowers his head, crushing his lips to mine.

Chapter Sixteen

Ian

“So when is the wedding?” her father says, approaching us with his gaze focused on me.

“It’s up to Calista—as long as it’s within the next year,” I remarked.

“Year?” he asks, looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Calista looks at me with the same expression. Even though I want her to be my wife already, I refuse to rush her.

“Well, I want to give her time to plan if she’d like.” She smiles at me.