Page 64 of Tainted Princess

Francesca was more than property, more than a bargaining chip in the games of egotistical men. Watching her tonight, seeing her behave as if there was nothing in the world that scared her, had stirred something in my soul. I knew, if I let her, Francesca could be more than just an unexpected wife, the tarnished trophy of her grandfather, passed around like chips on a poker table. She was destined to be more than the Tainted Princess she had been labeled as by men who had no idea of her value.

Francesca Argenti was capable of being a vengeful queen, a force to be feared and respected in her own right.

For a moment I let myself imagine it, her and I ruling this town together. It would be glorious. There would be no one who didn’t know who we were, no one who dared to rise against us.

And as tempting as that vision was, there was also one more aspect of that scenario that I could never allow to come to pass.

If I let her, Francesca could also be my downfall. The one thing that could weaken me, the single chink in my armor to be used and exploited to bring me to my knees.

There was no way I could let that happen. No way that I could open myself to the possibility of destruction at the hands of a pint-sized mafiosa.

So, I made her leave, knowing that it was the best choice for both of us.

And while my head knew that it was the right thing to do, my gut—and my dick—both felt that somehow, some way, Francesca was going to make me regret it.

It was only a matter of time.