Page 17 of Bound By Betrayal

The men she’d maimed and buried through the years would disagree.

“She’s beautiful.” It was the only honest answer I had to give.

In the week since I’d been here, we’d done nothing but fuck with each other. It was a strange sort of relationship off the bat, but maybe it was our way of avoiding the implications that our union would ultimately bring us.

Gio didn’t say another word for the duration of our walk to the dining hall. This gave me time to analyze his comments and the possible intentions behind them. Speaking highly of her meant that, in some ways, he approved of our relationship.

But if he believed the engagement was genuine, he wouldn’t need to sell her to me.

He knew.

I caught Gio’s arm and tugged him to a stop. Voices poured in from around the corner, so I made sure to lower mine to a whisper. “What do you know?”

“I know my sister. And that’s enough to know this whole marriage thing is for my parents and the lawyers.” He focused beyond me. “I won’t tell. I know why she’s doing it. And I’m glad it’s you and not Rocco.”

“Rocco?” I remembered he’d brought up his name a few days ago.

“You’ll meet him at dinner. He wants to marry Amalia.”

“Does he?”

Gio nodded again and peered nervously around the corner. “But she doesn’t love him.”

“She doesn’t love me either, kid.”

“No, but she can learn. Show her.”

Show her.

Of all the impossible…

We stepped into the formal dining room, and I never knew what it felt like to experience a rush of air leaving my lungs unless it was due to a fist to the abdomen, yet there I was, eyes on her, attempting to catch my breath.

Amalia’s once-long black hair was cropped, sitting just on her shoulders. The ponytail I’d wrapped in my hand days ago was gone. But I wasn’t mad. She looked goddamn edible. My perusal was short-lived when a man’s hand snaked around her waist. I had never seen him before, though I imagined it was Rocco.

I cracked my knuckles and clenched my fists. Real or not, touching what was mine was outright disrespectful, and I didn’t appreciate being made a fool.

Maybe Amalia noticed the hole I was searing into the side of Rocco’s face.

“Kai,” she said, moving toward me immediately. As if rehearsed, I pulled her to my chest at the same time as she levered up to press her lips to mine. But I crushed her to me, hand in her hair, deepening the kiss.

Our first kiss.

My cock stirred at the sound and sensation of her soft moan inside my mouth. Amalia tasted fucking divine, and I couldn’t help the urge to know what the rest of her would feel like on my tongue.

Conscious of her family’s presence, I reluctantly pulled away, kissing her one last time before combing my fingers through her freshly trimmed hair.

“Maybe that was a little too convincing,” she whispered.

“You cut it,” I said, ignoring her.

“You’re observant.”

“Why?” The question tumbled out, and when the edges of her mouth twitched, I quickly regretted possibly making her feel as if I didn’t like it. As if she didn’t look fucking exquisite.

Since when did I care about hurting her feelings?

Amalia fisted my shirt and dug her nails into the side of my ribs. “Have you already forgotten your little stunt from the other day?”