Page 38 of Do It For Me

A knot forms in my throat.

“Are you okay?” Dante asks.

I force a smile and nod.

The radio starts playing as soon as he starts the engine. Music fills the air, and then a familiar song catches my attention.

“I thought you made that song up just for me!” I pout. “I felt special.”

There’s an opera on the radio. Dante sings that same song softer, faster, like a lullaby. They’re completely different.

“Youarespecial,ragnetta.” He smiles. “You’re the only person I’ve ever sung to.”

My heart flutters like it has grown wings.

How messed up am I if I even like the way his teeth look when he grins? A month ago, I hadn’t noticed how white they are or how sharp his fangs look, or how much I wanted to feel them against my skin.

He places his hand on my thigh, and I can’t help but imagine him gripping it firmly, keeping me spread open for him.

This is embarrassing.

The videos I’ve watched stir unfamiliar feelings. Most show two people together, and they make me feel... strange. I haven’t talked to anyone about it. I’m scared it will hurt, like it did when I was kidnapped. They were never gentle, and I don’t want to associate Dante with that pain...

But I want him. I want him to touch me, to please me. I want to learn how to please him—to own him. I want everything he has to offer.

Sadly, fear wins this time, so I’ll keep that to myself.

It’s eight o’clock when Dante parks in front of my house.

Today, he took me to the cinema and then out to dinner again. Afterward, we strolled through the city, eating ice cream and talking about movies. He promised me that, once we’re married, he’ll take me to the café again and buy all the flavours for me to try because I couldn’t choose just one, and I ended up picking randomly.

“Do you want me to come by later, or are you already sick of me?” he teases.

I roll my eyes.

“So dramatic.”

“You’re the one to talk,” he laughs. “Should I remind you who was nearly screaming from that rooftop?”

I smile... until I look towards the house and my stomach clenches.

My father is pacing around the garden, his phone pressed to his ear. He looks furious, which usually means he’ll drink. And after that, he’ll either beat me or sneak into my room.

I don’t want this day to end.

I’m tired of his commands, his fury, his fists. I’m tired of living under his shadow. So, fuck it! I’m over twenty. He can arrange a marriage with a stranger if he likes, but I’ll decide what to do with my life.

Dante has given me that choice, and I’ll take it.

For once, I want to feel truly alive. Not the frightened girl I was before the kidnapping. Not the shattered woman I’ve become.

I look at Dante, my decision made. Tilting my head, I ask, “What if we go to your place?”

His eyebrows shoot up.

“My place? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. We’re going to get married anyway. I’m an adult—my father shouldn’t care about what I do.”