Page 164 of Sins of the Orchid

Amore

Santi’s hand came to my lower back, steering me down from the stage and onto the dance floor. A quick glance around the room and I spotted Dad. His gaze connected with mine and a storm brewed in his expression. I almost expected he’d pull out his gun at any moment and start shooting. Lorenzo held him by his arm, whispering in his ear.

Luigi was pissed off too. Gabriel Carrera held on to him. I just prayed that my hot-headed brother wouldn’t cause a scandal in the midst of Regalè board members, models and reporters. My eyes darted to Lorenzo, and he winked his assurance it was all good. Things were going to hell in a handbasket.

The tunes of an old Italian song came on, the same one we danced to back in Italy and my feet tripped. Santi caught me as the entire room watched us dance and somehow it dawned on me. Ever since I moved to New York when I was that little girl, Santi somehow always caught me when I was falling. Whether it was when I cried on the sidewalk or got sick after my first alcohol consumption. He was always there.

“What is this?” I asked him.

“A dance.”

Tall and elegant, he led the dance with a compelling swagger of power and ownership. If not for his constantly bruised knuckles and an outline of a gun holster pressing against me, he’d easily fool me into believing him to be a gentleman.

“You know what I’m talking about,” I reprimanded in a low voice. “Stop playing games with me.” He turned his scowl at me, but I refused to let it scare me.Hedidn’t scare me. “Where is Adriano?”

His hand tensed on my back, pulling me closer against his hard body. “He’s no longer your concern.”

That was it! No explanation, nothing.

“Yes, he is,” I said, annoyance flaring in my voice. “He’ll always be my concern. You don’t get to tell me what to do, Santi. Not anymore.”

Regardless of whatever just happened. Really, what just happened?

His dark eyes were devoid of emotion, and his face was an unnerving mask of calm. This face right there made Santino Russo a fearful opponent.

“If I kill him, he won’t be your concern,” he said coldly.

I gasped out, then blinked my eyes. “Y-you wouldn’t.”

The smirk on his face was dark and cruel. “For you, Amore, I think I would. I’d burn down this whole motherfucking city.” I stared at him in shock, unable to form a single thought. The music sounded far away, like the two of us were in our own little bubble. “You are marryingmenow. I suggest you no longer concern yourself with other men.”

His words sent liquid fire to my core.This is wrong, so wrong. Yet, naked lust and an inferno traveled through my veins like volcanic lava. His fingers on my back shot lust through my bloodstream, but it mixed with my anger at being manipulated. Despite how much I wanted him.

“Santi, please. You can’t…” I whispered, unsure what I could possibly say.I want you, but not like this.I wanted him to fight for me and now… I was doubting his intention. For the first time ever, my trust in Santino Russo faltered. Though my desire didn’t.

I was his. Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. Fifty years from now.

But I wouldn’t let him trample all over me and the people I loved.

Without a word, one hand went into his pocket while his other was still on my waist. His hand took my hand again and he slipped a ring onto my finger.

“You will wear this,” he growled, his fingers interlocking with mine. For a fleeting second, his eyes dropped to my neck, where the last piece of jewelry he bought me hung. The air sizzled between us, my skin tingled with it, and I cursed this addictive love for him.

“I am tired of everyone deciding what I should do,” I whispered. “You could ask me, you know.” Something flickered in his eyes, but he said nothing else. I swallowed. “You used to ask me what I wanted,” I rasped.

Our eyes locked and I held my breath, sure he’d have something to say but the music ended, breaking the moment. The crowd surrounded us instantly, coming to congratulate us on our engagement. My eyes searched out my father, who stood in the back with my brother, their jaws pressed in a hard line.

“You alright?” Santi’s voice pulled me back.

I blinked my eyes at him. The first boy that wiped my tears. And now he would cause so many more for my father, for my brothers, and my best friend.

With a silent nod and tight lump in my throat, my words were barely a whisper. “Excuse me.”

I went in the opposite direction of the crowd, desperately needing solitude. The best place was in the back room where the models hung around. Yes, it was hectic, but those ladies were usually wrapped up in themselves. They wouldn’t pay attention to me at all.

My heels clicked against the marble of the large room. Every so often I ran into a familiar face, nodded and smiled, then excused myself.

I didn’t want the wedding to Adriano. I wanted Santi. It has always been Santi. But not like this. Never like this.