Chapter 37

"All I ask is for respect as your future queen. If you disrespect me, you and Davina will have a matching scar," I seethed.

His brow raised and his lips twinkled with what resembled a grin, but Massimo's eyes held a storm while his head lifted higher. A fucking sitting contradiction.

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm warning you."

MASSIMO

"I'm warning you."

This regal woman had just threatened me. In my home, inside my study, as my mind was enraged by her insolence, and my dick grew hard.

Hard to believe her entrance, the power her figure claimed, and how her hand handled a sharp blade effortlessly. Thirsty to taste her crazed body and unstable mind. Her need to punish and claim who she believed was hers. The jealousy that cracked her armor.

I was rock hard to her threat.

As her emerald-green eyes shined with the promise of hurting someone if they touched me, I believed her.

I had gone out of my way to ignore her for days, hoping my silence would make her crave my presence. Hoping it would punish her for how she'd spoken to me in public, but instead, I had fueled her raving spirit.

Delia wasn't planned, but when her text came through, I saw a way to teach Alessandra another lesson.

I needed a release, a quick fix to ease the demon that lately couldn't be reined in. It didn't ask for blood, and as I had been too busy with the threats Alessandra had brought along with her to the syndicate, I needed a fuck. Little did I know how far she would go.

But Delia hadn't done it for me. While she was ready for my touch, all I could think of was the tan skin and long legs of a certain vixen I had ready for my taking.

I had been minutes away from telling Delia to leave since my plan to hurt Alessandra had failed when she hadn't seen me walk Delia to my study.

Therefore, I never anticipated Alessandra barging inside my study with a knife and threatening Delia.

All I had managed to accomplish while staying away was wanting her more.

And it infuriated me.

To be played by my own game, my own doing, all due to losing sight of who she truly was.

I stood and kept my fists from balling with the wild rage of having her near with a weapon and threats.

"What will you do?" True curiosity sparked in me.

What will Alessandra do?

She didn't say a word, and I ushered for her to speak with each step closer I took toward her heated eyes.

Again, Alessandra surprised me by closing the distance between us.

Tall and grand, her lavish might faced me.

Fucking insane.

And yet, it pulled me. Luring me to her striking power.

"Tell me," I gritted.

Her scent triumphed over Delia's, twisting me to her ways.

Silence.

I towered over her body as she silently raised her head high.

My patience for her to speak, for her to feed the demon with details of what she would do, diminished, and I wrapped my hand around her neck. It slid away from her throat until my fingertips felt her velvet chestnut hair. I gripped it tightly, forcing her to keep her eyes on mine.

"As it seems your words have failed you, I'll explain what I would do to those who so much dare to lay a hand on you," I murmured, and my face neared her natural red bowed lips.

"They'll be dead. But not before I will relish in their screams and useless begging." My lips formed a cruel smile. "They will be left unrecognizable." My chest bounced erratically as I continued, "And I will wait until every drop of blood drains out of their body. No fingertips will be left to identify who they were since their hands won't be near their ruined bodies as they touched what is mine." Alessandra's eyes fluttered. "And if you so much as allowed it." My wrath lashed out at the thought following my threat. "You will hear the cries you say you don't care about, and I will fucking make your life so miserable that you will wish for death to take you as mercy."

I couldn't take back my words as they were the truth. Our arrangement had been toxic, poisonous from the start, and it was time I showed her who she would be married to, who she will submit underneath, and who she will have to be loyal to.

Alessandra jerked to be freed, forcing me to pull her hair tighter. Too tight.

Fear.

So subtle in her irises, and yet I found myself taken aback by the strong feeling of detest I felt knowing it'd been me she'd feared.

Even then, I didn't move.

She wanted to be partners. Fine. I would show her the venom of the demon inside me and rot the idea.

"All I ask for is respect." Her tone stayed sharp. "I don't need your money, presents, jewelry, or even your presence." Alessandra's words carried a fight she'd never won before me. "Respect." One word, and yet she craved it more than she could express.

She'd been underestimated in our world for being a woman. Taken for granted by being born into the mafia world. Traded and dehumanized.

All she asked for was respect, and I understood her. It was what I'd fought for since I turned fourteen.

"And in return?"

Her eyes closed, and I clenched my hair-laced hand for her to watch me, eager for her answer.

"Everything."

Everything. With just one word from her, I could rejoice. Because I knew if I gave her the one thing no one has ever given her, she would do anything. Her loyalty and trust would be in me. If only for seeing her for who she was. As the king of the syndicate and with the power I held, to do such a thing would earn it. Making it a sealed vow. All for respect.

It's how I'd earned my brothers, whose bond was unbreakable. I gave them what no one else did. Life, family, respect.

I fought between wanting to break her and making her pay for what her family had taken from me. But my resolve was weak the more I saw the same Zanetti name take away so much from her. And it was her own blood.

Alessandra had no one.

Before I could trust my words, I said, "Okay."

Another promise I had to keep.

Eyes wide and vivid scanned my face. Surprised and optimistic, Alessandra's smile broke free.

Fuck her, she made me smile.

She closed her eyes with a head shake and allowed her head to fall against my chest.

Jesus, this woman.

"Don't reel in victory just yet, Alessandra."

Her laugh was muffled through my blazer, and my grip loosened on her hair, giving her a moment longer with joy.

It was then that I realized how much I liked seeing it on her.

One thing remained, and I was ready to break the developing feelings from furthering into nonsense inside me.

"I won't rush you but know I can't wait forever."

I hadn't meant now, even though all I wanted to do at this moment was bury myself deep inside her. Hard and fast. Punishing her with cruel pounds for getting her way. For making me smile and driving me into undeniable desire.

"I know," she said into my chest.

Alessandra might see this as a win, but I warned how sex with me would ruin her. She should have heeded my words. Now it was too late.

She would see more than sex. She would want more than sex.

Women always did.

"I won't make love to you," I stated.

"I know."

It was settled.

"Now, put your knife away."

Alessandra scoffed, pulled away with one eyebrow raised, and did as I asked.

"Afraid of a little knife, Massimo?"

Her words had been similar before when I had ordered her not to keep any in our room. My reply would be the same.

"No, I just don't trust a Zanetti with one." And I had been right.

It earned me a smile I didn't return.

"Speaking of knives," she began.

"You mean the secret you've been keeping?" I asked instead.

"They were never a secret."

Alessandra shrugged and ran her fingers through her hair, taming the locks I'd twisted.

I liked it better then.

Her eyes found mine with bold sparks as she said, "And you never asked. You just made up your mind that they were for collection."

At first I had. A mistake on my part because once again she had been underestimated for being a woman. That was until the night I saw her wielding them with ease and care as she cleaned each one, but her skill had surpassed my expectations.

How far did her gift expand?

"I meant the secret of carrying one with you."

Alessandra's eyes never left mine, but I saw the feathering twitch of her right fingers that lay below her hip.

She didn't have to answer. I placed the pieces together.

The frequent touches to her thigh. The soft caresses when she tried to hide her uneasiness and discomfort. Or the times her spirit rose with annoyance and displeasure. Her tell was nothing more than her need to seek comfort.

Then I remembered when I'd asked for all of her knives, and I grew impatient. Because for weeks she had continued with the same tics.

My head fell slightly to the side while I watched her attentively, studying her features. Deliberating whether she'd gone against my order.

If she'd hid and kept a knife in the one room I'd specifically asked not to.

Could she be so mad as to go against me?

Alessandra didn't falter as I showed her the rage my mind had inspired. It wasn't near the turmoil that conspired against my body. The roaring open fire that heated my core into a smoldering and steady ire inside. Or how my veins popped with livid blood.

"How long, Alessandra?"

Collected, she closed the distance between us. I didn't move for the simple fact that I couldn't trust myself. And when her hand lifted from her side, I kept a close watch on her.

Her palms stretched out, connecting to my still chest. Her touch nipped my cruel rage, and as they spread onto my sides, dousing my unsettled state with cool fingertips, I allowed her to continue her effect on me.

Alessandra's fingers slid underneath my suit jacket until they met the shoulder straps of my holster. The kind I didn't wear unless it was necessary, and tonight, it had been.

Then her palms stirred away. One settled on my torso while the other snaked around my side and onto my back and lowered, finding the tucked gun at my waist.

Her eyes claimed she wasn't done, and while I centered my gaze on her turbulent greens, they drifted away along with her body.

At no time did our eyes pull away.

Hers, with a drive to prove.

Mine, of seeing her body lower slowly in front of me.

With her face mere inches away from the evidently hard dick I carried, my blood no longer pumped in lively anger. It reeled in need.

Alessandra's hands reached blindly forward and roped around my right calf. They dropped in a chain of search, but it had been useless. Not long after, she skipped to the other leg, discovering the knife strapped around my ankle.

She smirked and returned to her feet, vibrating with confidence.

"How long have you carried a weapon, Massimo?"

Alessandra dropped a lit match, reigniting the wicked fire.

In one swift movement, I held her jaw, pulling her face to mine. Her lips parted, her posture straightened, and her chest pressed against mine.