Chapter 2 I Don't Play Games

Vanessa POV’s The blood that drained from my face must have drained from my head as well. A wobble in my knees threatened to make me lose my balance, I grabbed the thing nearest to me to steady myself while my eyes took in the sight before me. I couldn't marry him?! The more my eyes ran through his appearance, the more I believed it. His eyes were darker than a moonless night and apparently ,they were the only visible part of him. I wanted to speak but my throat was clogged. Why in heaven's name was he drenched in — was that blood? Gnero moved close to me and I confirmed what I feared. The sharp, metallic scent overpowered the remnants of his cologne—a contrast that made my stomach churn in agony. I wanted to puke but at the same time, I wanted to ask whose blood it was. I closed my eyes and suddenly got the inkling, if I wanted to be heir then I couldn't ask questions like that. I had to act like I was tough instead of wanting to reel out my own guts. I forced my eyes open and stood straight, clearing my throat. His eyes, cold and calculating, flicked over me, a glimmer of amusement in their depths. I refused to flinch, holding his gaze until he was just two steps away. “Now that I have your attention... I’ll assume you are Gnero,” I said, my voice steady despite the laughter that erupted from the others in the room. We were the only two not laughing. “I have something to say to you, but maybe when you're better dressed?” I tried to maintain a formal tone, but he only smirked. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it here,” he replied, his voice flat, almost bored. A wave of irritation surged through me. I didn’t like him—not one bit. “Are you sure about that?” I stepped forward, our eyes locked in a silent battle. My father had unknowingly taught me how to use intimidation, but Gnero wasn’t easily swayed. “Well,” I continued, standing tall and intimidatingly. “I don’t care to know who you are, and you certainly don’t want to know who I am. While your gift was unexpected, it was also unnecessary and unneeded and hence I'll be rejecting it. I want whatever arrangement you think is happening here, neutralized and done with. I will be returning home with nothing from you and on time, so I can beat some sense into my stupid brother and I will forgive and forget this audacious insult of an implied marriage.” Silence fell over the room and despite how strong I had portrayed myself, I felt uneasy with the deafening quiet. I opened my mouth, daring to ask if he understood what I had just said when he chuckled, a sound that was both unexpected and beautiful. He chuckled longer than was necessary and I frowned “Are you done?" He wiped a tear from his eyes but I was sure it was fake and was about to turn away from me — “Did I stutter?" I dared to ask and he stopped in his movements to look at me from the side of his eyes. “i can't do that, princess” his tone insulting. Princess?! “I don't think I asked for a written permission or a spoken one. I’m telling you what I’m going to do so you’re not surprised when you wake up and find me gone,” I deadpanned, stepping closer. But he matched my step, towering over me. His presence was overwhelming—broad shoulders, a muscular frame, and an aura that screamed danger. I couldn’t help but notice how easy it would be to run my hands along those bulging arms. My thighs pressed together involuntarily as he stared into my soul. “You are my wife, cupcake. Papers were signed before your father and brothers at a court, fortifying the wedding. You can’t dissolve the marriage; it’s unethical. And I don’t do well with unethical,” he said slowly, as if I were too stupid to understand otherwise. “First, don’t ever call me cupcake. Second, I’ll be leaving your house one way or another, with or without your knowledge,” I spat, crossing my arms defiantly. He smiled—a rough, yet beautiful smile. “Unless your father can return the ton of gold I offered him, the signed treaty, and the valuable information about his enemy, then sure, you can waltz out of here, and no one will stop you,” he said casually. I stepped back, my mind reeling. Gold? Why would my father need gold? “My father is one of the wealthiest mafia leaders in Italy. How dare you suggest he needed your gold?” I demanded, but he only smiled. “Looks like you won’t be leaving anytime soon,” he mocked, signaling to someone behind me. I turned just in time to see unfamiliar men approaching, ready to drag me away. I placed a hand on Gnero’s chest, a futile attempt to shield myself, but he only enclosed me in his arms like a snake. “Don’t worry, cupcake. I’ll be protecting you from now on,” he whispered. I pushed against him, disgusted by his words and by how much a part of me liked them. The men dragged me away, taking me to a room meant to be mine, leaving me with my spiraling thoughts. Why would my father take money for this marriage? Time slipped away until a knock sounded at my door. Gnero entered without waiting for my permission. I rolled my eyes, folding my arms as I sat up in bed. “I will not be performing any wife duties. If that’s what you’re here for, you better turn around and leave,” I warned, but he ignored me, walking in fully dressed in a clean shirt, his hair styled, he looked every bit the dangerous mafia leader. “There’s a small party in an hour. I’ve arranged everything, including your dress, which is in your wardrobe. A maid will come to fetch you,” he said coldly, dismissing my earlier words. I scoffed, standing as he turned to leave. Grabbing his arm, I forced him to face me. “Maybe I wasn’t clear earlier but I will not be participating in any wife duties—sexual or otherwise,” I said firmly, crossing my arms under my chest. His eyes flickered to my neck before returning to my face. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low, his pupils dilating as he watched me. A sudden, sinister thought crossed my mind—what if I seduced him? Maybe he’d give me what I wanted. I stepped closer, a sly smile playing on my lips as I let my hands fall from my chest, subtly adjusting my posture to draw his attention. “Games are not my thing, princess,” his eyes were slits, his voice husky and almost unreadable, but I read them. I could see what was beneath because it was a mirror to mine. It was pure desire and I was determined to put it to good use, after all there was always more than a way to finish a man, my mother would always say. His hand stretched and made soft circles on my skin as it landed my neck. My head tipped back on impulse, heat coming from the center of my chest as a soft gasp escaped my lips, his body leaning into mine, his lips coming close as my body suddenly felt foreign. I thought I was in power? In control? His hot breath whizzed past my ears and I wanted those lips somewhere else. “Downstairs. One hour,” he whispered, pulling me from my thoughts. “And cupcake? When I want you, you’ll be the one begging,” he added, his eyes darkening as they roamed over my body, undressing me with a single glance. “I’m not coming,” I said, my voice shaky as he walked away. “You don’t want to test me, Nessa. Trust me,” he threatened before leaving, and I frowned. We’ll see about that.