Page 120 of Ruin

My eyes fill with tears, and the pain that crosses his face like a storm cloud ruins me.

He stands with me in his arms and sets me down roughly in front of Antonio. I had forgotten he was even in the room, and now that it’s all over, I’m embarrassed. Antonio is holding my dress, and I blush as he zips me back into it. I keep my eyes on Tommy, but Tommy grabs my chin and forces me to meet Antonio’s gaze.

Tommy’s voice is cruel. “This is what she looks like when she’s satisfied. She’s your fucking responsibility. Take care of her.”

Antonio watches me, guarded, as Tommy releases me and starts toward the door. On his way out, he grabs the edge of one of the fully set dinner tables and flips it over with an earth shattering crash of dishes and silverware.

Panicked, I turn sharply toward Antonio and away from the door as partygoers rush in to see what’s happening. Antonio cups my jaw, his expression stern. Then he kisses me, long and slow.

When he pulls back, I realize he’s creating a cover for us, for me, for Tommy, and I give him a small smile and take his hand as we turn to face them. Aurelio is among the bystanders. So are my parents. My mother catches my eye. She’s the only one who isn’t smiling as Antonio and I leave the wreckage together, officially a couple.

There’s nothing I won’t do to protect Tommy.

54

Giovanna

Antonio is watching me, waiting, pacing in the living room while I stand at the kitchen island drinking a glass of wine. He’s been trying to pin me down for weeks now, trying to get me to talk about what happened on New Year’s Eve, and I’ve managed to avoid him until now.

I don’t think I can avoid him anymore.

I don’t know how to navigate this new normal, and neither does he. We fucked, yes, or rather he fucked my mouth, but to me, he was just an extension of Tommy.

It’s clear from the look on Antonio’s face that he doesn’t see it that way.

“Gigi,” he says finally, his voice scraping across the air. I grimace and swallow another gulp of wine, as he presses his palms together like he’s praying and tilts his head.

“Giovanna. We have to talk about it.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious,” he snaps, though he reins it back in immediately, forcing his voice to calm. “But we do.”

I set the glass down hard on the marble counter. “Fine.Talk.”

He steps closer to me, brushes his hand over my forearm, then presses his palm on the back of my hand. I stare at his hand on mine, biting the inside of my lip until I taste blood. I don’t want him to touch me.

“You can’t look at me?” His voice is irritated, and he taps my hand impatiently.

I lift my gaze up to meet his almost petulantly as I down the rest of my wine then slip my hand out from under his to grab the bottle.

“Seriously? I had my dick in your mouth, Giovanna, and you can’t even let me hold your hand?”

I shrug. “Raw fucking and romance are two different things, aren’t they?”

He scoffs. “So getting fucked in the mouth is easier for you than holding hands. Good to know.”

“If you’re going to be an asshole, we can end this conversation right now,” I snap, filling my wine glass to the brim.

Something in him shifts, and his expression hardens into something bitter and violent. “I’m the asshole? You’re with me, but you’re still in love with him.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t need to.

He laughs under his breath, short and mean. “Now that I see how you like to be fucked, I realize I’ve been going about this all wrong. Here I am, like an asshole, treating you like a princess when what you want is to get fucked like a whore.”

I huff out a sigh. Why does liking the way Tommy taught me to fuck make me a whore? “I’m not sure what your goal here is, but if you’re trying to romance me, you’re failing.”

His laugh dies, and his jaw ticks. “You know what, Giovanna? I’m fucking tired of this. Tired of being secondplace with you.”