Bound by Hatred(34)

I wasn’t surprised. Father had already barely tolerated me before I’d brought shame to our family by running away. Now he probably hated me like the devil. I almost wanted Matteo to hurt me. I deserved it for getting Sid killed. I knew Matteo would have no trouble hurting me. I’d seen what he was capable of. Maybe physical pain would finally drown out the anguish I felt deep inside.



Matteo

Gianna didn’t say a fucking thing as if she couldn’t care less what I did to her.

I tightened my hold on her wrists to see if she would finally show some of that fire I was used from her, but despite a small wince she didn’t react.

I hated what she’d done to her hair. It was light brown, no longer the fiery red I loved. At least, she hadn’t cut it off.

My eyes were drawn to the sliver of naked stomach that peeked out where her shirt had ridden up. The thought that someone else had touched her there, had touched her everywhere made me want to tear everything down.

She was supposed to be mine. Mine alone.

For a moment, the fury was so blinding I wanted to hurt her, wanted to show her that she belonged to me, wanted to fuck her so hard that she forgot everything else. I gripped her waist, my fingers brushing over her soft skin. Mine. Only mine from now on. Her father had told me I could use her as I saw fit before I took her back to him. Nobody would blink an eye if I took from her what had been mine for the taking in the first place. She tensed under my touch but still didn’t say anything. Her eyes were resigned. No hint of her usual temper.

She didn’t fight me, didn’t do anything. She reminded me of a ragdoll. She probably waited for me to do what everyone expected me to do, to fuck her even if she was unwilling, to hurt her until she begged me for forgiveness. And I could have done it but I didn’t want to. Despite what she’d done and how bad she’d made me look, I still wanted her, and not just her body.

“Being submissive isn’t like you,” I said quietly. Her pulse sped under my fingertips. It was the only sign that she wasn’t as indifferent as her expression made me want to believe. Maybe she didn’t care what happened to her because she was heartbroken over the bastard I’d found her with.

The idea sent a new spike of wrath through me and I quickly released her before I lost control. I slid off her and sat on the edge of the mattress, trying to ignore the look of surprise and shock crossing her face. I glared at the floor, clenching and unclenching my hands. If Carmine hadn’t killed the fucker, I would probably have done it. I still wanted to do it, wanted to slice the part of his brain out that harbored the memory of Gianna’s body under him.

Gianna sat up slowly, carefully as if she thought I might attack if she moved too fast. “Aren’t you going to rape and torture me?”

I almost laughed. That’s what everyone expected. Most men in our world even thought she deserved it. I turned to her, my gaze tracing her beautiful face. Even more beautiful than my memory had made me believe, even now when she was pale and her eyes were puffy from tears.

“Did you think I would?” I asked in a surprisingly calm voice. Some of my anger was suddenly gone that she was watching me with her wide blue eyes.

“Yes. My father’s men definitely thought you would. Didn’t you see their expressions? They probably hope that you’ll give them a go at me once you’re done with me.”

Of course, they’d told me so numerous times while we’d been on the hunt. I knew what they thought was happening right now. Fuck, part of me wished they were right. I wasn’t a good guy. “I don’t give a fuck about your father’s men, and I don’t give a fuck about your father. And if they lay a single finger on you, I’m going to kill them. They won’t hurt you, nobody will.”

Her brows crinkled. “Once I’m back in Chicago, Father will punish me.”

Did she really think I’d hand her over to her asshole of a father? I hadn’t hunted her for sixth months only to give her up. I smirked. “You aren’t going back to Chicago, Gianna. You are coming to New York with me.”

Hope and relief crossed her face. “To Aria? Is she alright? Did she get in trouble because she helped me?”

Somehow her response annoyed me. “Aria is fine,” I said, before I stood and walked toward the window. I kept my back to her when I asked, “That guy, did you love him?”

I wasn’t sure what I’d do if she said ‘yes’. I couldn’t hurt that fucker anymore, and I didn’t want to hurt her, so what could I do? Kill someone else, preferably the two assholes from the Outfit who’d been grating on my nerves for too long, and maybe while I was at it, I’d kill her fucking father the next time I saw him.