Page 50 of The Butcher's Wife

Then she caught the eye of some random, sleazy old man. As he walked up to her, she lifted her chin and said in a voice I couldn’t hear, but could guess at from that distance. “Buy me a drink.”

And that fucking scumbag did.

I figured I’d let her have her fun but keep an eye on her for her family’s sake. She was getting married and shipped off to Florida in less than a month, and her bachelorette would probably be boring as fuck. As the night went on, shelooked less and less like she was having fun. The guy’s hands started drifting under her clothes, and every time she’d shove him off, he’d laugh and try again.

When I stepped in, the look of shock on her face still makes me smile to this day. She thought she’d been so clever sneaking out of the house.

“Can I dance with you?” I asked after I sent her partner away with a single look.

She whispered her answer. “Yes.”

I remember how tiny she was in my grip, like a little bird. We danced one dance together, and I took her hand to leave.

That little bird stood her ground, jerked me back, and made a drunken demand. “One more dance.”

I was so tickled that I let her have her way—my first mistake.

She took my hands and placed them on the curve of her waist, and she danced against me like she wanted to weave herself into me in a dozen little ways.

When the song was over, she straightened and took clipped steps out of the bar like she was headed to the guillotine, and I was her executioner.

I paid for a taxi to take us to her home. At her house, I followed her, expecting her to walk begrudgingly to the front door. Instead, she led me past the rose bushes planted against the side of the house until we stopped underneath her bedroom window. She’d left a ladder to get in and out of the second floor.

“Alright, I’ll hold the ladder.” I was ready to get home and shake off this weird night. “Get inside.”

She put her hand on the first rung and looked up at me. “I don’t want to get married.”

Which went against the rumors that she’d seducedFrederico Chiarelli to steal him from her more popular sister. I had it on good account of what she’d done to wrap that man around her finger. Looking at her then, a plea in her eyes, I realized I should’ve given her more credit.

She wasn’t a malicious person by nature. She was self-sacrificial.

“And Serafina?” I asked.

“She was scared.”

So, she’d thrown herself at Frederico to save her sister from getting married. “Someone else will come along to marry her.”

“I know, but she just wanted more time.”

I thought of myself as another member of the Barbara household, but I’d never thought twice to look into those rumors about Annetta being a husband-stealing slut. She didn’t deserve that.

“Don’t fight this,” I warned, because what else was I supposed to tell her? Frederico would make her a good-enough husband.

“Dom, please.”

“Please, what,reginetta?”

It was too late to get out of that marriage of hers, though I knew she’d try. Maybe she’d beg me to use my connections and help her get out of it.

She fixed her gaze on me. “Please kiss me. I’ve never been kissed before.”

It had shocked me. If she’s a girl now, she was even more so back then.

But a single kiss?

It was soinnocent.

And it burned me to know she’d sucked Frederico’s dick, but he’d never even kissed her. Selfish bastard.