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Chapter Nineteen

Viviana

The low hum of voices drifts from Romeo’s study as I pass by, drawing me to a halt. The door is cracked just enough for me to hear his sharp tone, though I can’t make out every word.

My chest tightens, instinctively sensing the tension in his voice, the weight of something dangerous hanging in the air.

“She’s essential,” Romeo says, his voice calm but steely. “If Salvatore sees her, he’ll believe I’m vulnerable. It’s the only way to get him to the table.”

My breath catches, waiting for his answer.

“I told her no. I won’t risk her like that. I’m telling you the same thing,” he says.

Matteo’s voice is quieter, more cautious. “It’s a risk, Romeo. If Salvatore senses a trap—”

“I’ll handle it,” Romeo cuts him off. “I can’t bring her. I can’t think clearly when she’s around me.”

I don’t wait to hear more. My emotions are all over the place. I don’t know how I feel about anything now. Am I really thinking about helping him?

By the time Romeo finds me, I’m pacing my room, trying to calm the storm inside me.

He enters without knocking, his presence filling the space instantly. “You were listening.”

“You’re damn right I was,” I snap, spinning to face him. “Salvatore expects me to be there. He won’t deal with you if he knows you didn’t bring me. You need to bring me.”

His jaw tightens, his eyes darkening as he steps closer. “I can do this without endangering you.”

“You need to trust me,” I demand, the intensity of my desire to influence his choice driving me forward until I’m standing toe-to-toe with him. “I’m your leverage. You kept me here for a reason. Let me help you. Trust me for once, Romeo.”

“You think I want to involve you in this?” he growls, his control clearly fraying. “You think I don’t hate the idea of putting you anywhere near Salvatore?”

“You need to do it!” I shout, shoving his chest with both hands. “You have to end this! I want my life back! I want to be able to live outside this prison!”

His hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist before I can push him again. In one swift motion, he presses me against the wall, his body looming over mine. The intensity in his gaze steals my breath, the anger in his eyes mirrored in my own.

“Why can’t you let me handle things?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous. “Why can’t you just do as I say, just once?”

“I’ll never submit to you, if you don’t trust me,” I spit back, my voice trembling with rage.

His other hand grips my waist, pulling me flush against him, and my body instantly responds. My anger at him for not listening to me fuels the kiss, every ounce of defiance pouring into it as I bite his bottom lip, daring him to push further.

He growls low in his throat, his control snapping completely as his hand slides to my thigh, lifting me slightly off the floor.

The line between hate and desire blurs as I cling to him, my nails raking down his back through the fabric of his shirt. I don’t know if I want to hurt him or keep him closer. Maybe both.

My anger flares again, hot and blinding, but it doesn’t stop me. Instead, it fuels me, pushing me further into this moment, this chaos. I kiss him hard, my lips crashing against his with a force that catches him off guard for half a second.

Then his hands are on me, possessive and unyielding, as though he’s been waiting for me to snap all along.

His mouth claims mine again, rough and demanding, and I let him. My nails rake across the back of his neck as his hands slide down to my hips, gripping me hard enough to bruise.

Before I can think, before I can stop myself, I arch into him, my body craving his touch even as my mind screams against the surrender.

“I need you,” he mutters, his lips trailing down my jaw, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my neck. His voice is rough, filled with a frustration that mirrors my own.

“Then take me,” I whisper, my breath catching as he nips at my collarbone, his hands tightening their hold.

His cock throbs against me as he closes the last inch of space between us. His skin is on fire, hot with need, and I lean into his touch eagerly.

His hands slip under my shirt, his palms rough and warm against my skin as they trace the curve of my waist. He lifts me suddenly, pressing me back against the wall as though he can’t bear even an inch of distance between us.

My legs wrap around his hips instinctively, and I feel the strength in his hold, the way he supports me effortlessly.

“You’re mine,” Romeo murmurs, his voice low and possessive as his mouth returns to mine. His teeth nip at my bottom lip, a teasing mix of pain and pleasure that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Stop talking,” I snap, grabbing his face and pulling him back to me. His answering chuckle is dark, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, his kiss deepens, consuming me, his control absolute.

His hands move with purpose, sliding higher under my shirt, his thumbs brushing the underside of my ribs. He teases, taking his time, letting his touch ignite every nerve in my body.

I hate how easily he breaks me down, how my anger dissolves into something raw and needy under his hands.

“You’re so defiant,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice dripping with amusement. “Yet, look at you.”

I don’t answer, can’t answer, as his hand slides up my spine, his fingers tangling in my hair. He pulls my head back gently, exposing my neck to him, and I gasp as his lips trail down my throat, his tongue tracing the hollow at its base.

He suddenly drops me, pressing my hands to the glass of the floor-length windows beside us.

“The world is out there, Vivianna,” he growls at me, kicking my feet apart. “I’m trying to lay it at your feet. Why can’t you let me?”

“I want to earn it with you,” I spit back, pressing back into his touch, desperate for the intrusion of him, desperate for him to plunder me.

When he enters me, I’m alight with desire, pulsing deep in my core. He stretches me wide, his cock so impossibly thick, so wonderful, that my mind goes utterly blank.

“Let me give you the world,” he says between thrusts, his tone rough, his teeth grazing my skin as he bends forward over my body to drive harder into me.

“Shut up,” I manage, but my voice is breathless, shaky.

His chuckle is dark, and then I feel his hand gripping my ass, kneading it.

“I want to own all of you, Vivianna,” he says to me ponderingly and then suddenly, I feel his thumb pressing against my pucker.

I gasp, uncertain what to expect, and then his finger is inside of me, ratcheting up the pleasure, the invasion so pleasurable that I nearly melt at his feet.

He thrusts once, twice, three times in quick succession, and it leaves me gasping and breathless, clinging to him with all my strength. My cheek thuds against the glass in front of me as Romeo sets an impossible pace, seated so deeply inside of me that I feel everything.

My defiance melts into submission, the walls I’ve built around myself crumbling as his touch consumes me. I don’t ever want him to stop.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against my lips, and the words send a shiver down my spine. His tone is mocking, teasing, but there’s something else beneath it—something genuine, almost reverent. “Come for me, baby. Come on my cock.”

The sound of his words drives me mad, and I press harder, my nails scraping against the glass as my core begins to spasm and flutter as my orgasm hovers. His answering growl is primal when he feels my body preparing to give into release, it’s enough to reveal the intensity of what he is experiencing.

“You think you can fight me?” he breathes, his hands sliding to my hips, gripping me tightly. “You think you can resist this?”

“I don’t want to resist,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

He pauses for a fraction of a second and I know I’ve just handed him exactly what he wanted.

He fucks me with a renewed desperation.

Good.

My thoughts dissolve under the force of him, leaving nothing but raw, unfiltered need in its place. For the first time, I don’t care about the consequences of any of this.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, the words soft but filled with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to have you.”

I come with a scream, back arching as fire lights up my body. I can’t think, my pulse roaring in my ears as the orgasm takes over. I’m consumed by him.

Romeo gives in to his release moments later. There’s a rush of warmth as he fills me with his seed, a sense of fullness that has the last flickers of arousal making my pussy throb. I’m weak, my legs unsteady, my breathing shallow as pleasure rolls over me in waves.

As quickly as it started, he pulls back, his breathing ragged, his dark eyes locking onto mine as he turns me around. His hands linger on my waist, his grip firm but not painful, as though he’s grounding himself. I’m trembling, my own breath coming in short, uneven gasps, my back still pressed against the windows. I can hardly stand as the aftershocks of pleasure jolt through me.

“This has to be enough for you, Vivianna,” he says softly, his voice husky. It’s not a command—it’s a declaration, as though he’s fighting for control over himself. “I need you to accept this. It’s more than anyone else gets to have of me.”

He steps back slowly, his hands sliding from my waist, leaving me cold in their absence.

I hold out my hand, pleading with him to come back to me, but he shakes his head, backing away and then leaving the room.

I lean against the wall for support, my legs weak, my heart racing. The weight of his words settles heavily over me, and I don’t doubt for a second that he meant them. When the door clicks shut behind him, the silence feels deafening. I sit there for a long moment, my knees drawn up to my chest, my hands still trembling.

My thoughts are a chaotic tangle of emotions—anger, desire, fear, and something that makes my stomach twist.

I can’t afford to fall for him. I know this, and yet, I feel myself slipping, my resolve cracking under the weight of everything he is. He’s relentless, consuming, and no matter how much I try to fight it, I can’t seem to escape the pull he has on me.

It cannot be , I think to myself. You cannot let yourself fall for this man. You cannot let yourself love him . But I think it might be too late. I think I might have already fallen.