Page 32 of Thorns of Blood

Someone like me, my mind enticed. Fuck, I liked that idea more than I should, but considering her actions—and the fact I failed to protect her eight years ago, much to my shame—it seemed the only viable option. Besides, I’d be a fool not to realize this girl was so much more than met the eye.

Now how could I convince the woman that had been through hell thanks to the men in her life of my good intentions? Maybe I could offer to help her find the woman on her revenge list? Or mediate some kind of a relationship with Amara by striking a deal with the girl’s biological parents and the DiLustros.

It was a sound plan, if I might say so myself.

And then if all else failed, I’d bring up the Marabella Agreements.

I found Romeo frowning at me when I looked at him. Did I miss something?

“What is it?” I questioned.

“You’re up to something, Giovanni.”

“Aren’t I always,” I muttered as I contemplated ways to keep the wild woman tied to me.

Obsession sure was a bitch.

TWELVE

LIANA

The door opened, and a chill coasted through me as Giovanni’s shadow moved across the floor, approaching me like the devil in disguise.

He had changed out of his suit and was wearing sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt. Droplets of water glued his dark hair to his temples, telling me he’d showered while I was tied up here, even had time to bandage his wound. His forearms flexed with each step he took closer to me, the ink peeking out from beneath his sleeve.

“I’m back.” He greeted me with a smile like we were besties, carrying a tray full of food.

My stomach rumbled, betraying my hunger. The man flashed me a grin.

“Right on time by the sounds of it,” he drawled as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, placing the tray down in front of him. His eyes flashed with resentment when I instinctively shifted away.

“I’m not hungry,” I snapped back, my stomach protesting the lie. Giovanni’s expression contained a warning before hepicked up a spoon and scooped up some white liquid that looked suspiciously like pureed rice.

“Yes, you are.” He brought the spoon to my tightly pressed lips. “Now open your mouth, or I’ll have to tube-feed you.”

That motherfucking?—

I opened my mouth and went for it, baring my teeth and readying to bite his fingers, but he was too fast, yanking his hand away.

“Come back here,” I hissed. “I opened my mouth like you commanded.”

His eyes hardened, holding mine as he gave me his terrifying attention.

“To eat,” he gritted. “Not to bite me.”

“Tomato, tomahto.” I held his gaze and let him see all my hate. “I’ll eat on my own.”

“Wildflower,” he warned, towering over me like a dark cloud, and instantly my chest tightened. “You don’t want me as your enemy.”

I scoffed. “Too late, because you’remyenemy.”

He was on me so fast a scream rose up my throat, his fingers prying my mouth open. But all I could feel was distaste at being touched. Having a man’s body so close—too close.

“Open your mouth, Liana, or I swear to God, I’m going to shove a feeding tube down your throat, and I promise you, the experience won’t be pleasant.”

I went still, recalling the last time I was subjected to that treatment, and the invasion of unwanted memories that I had worked so hard to compartmentalize threatened to take hold.

“You’re the same as the rest of them.”