already am. I suffer every day for what I let happened to Frankie. So, if that’s all you want, you got your wish.”
The corner of his lip curled as his eyes racked down my body and back up again. “Oh, baby,” he cooed, “there’s suffering and then there’s suffering. And I don’t think you’re suffering quite enough to satisfy me.”
“Wh…what would satisfy you?”
Too late.
The double entendre was out before I could pull it back. With the way my body was reacting to the lunatic, I should have chosen my words differently. The man already basically called me a whore, I didn’t need to sound like I was begging for it. Suddenly, my unexpected attraction to him felt more than wrong.
It felt humiliating.
That humiliation jumped tenfold when Ciro’s hand slowly ran down my bare neck and further until it actually covered my left breast. It felt like my skin was being scorched through the fabric and I could swear my lungs stopped working.
His beautiful, beautiful face reflected nothing but disdain as he said, “What are you offering?”
Mortification gave me the power of a thousand men and the courage of the fiercest of warriors. I pushed at his chest with every ounce of guilt, pain, humiliation, and sorrow that’s been tearing me apart these past few weeks, and miraculously, he gave way. Oh, not because I was actually strong enough to move him, but because he decided to give me some space.
“I am not a whore,” I seethed, beyond all rationale. “Hate me for what happened to your sister. I deserve that. But you don’t know me. You don’t know me enough to…I’m not a whore.” Shame caused my voice to break and that just infuriated me more. Three times I’ve been in this man’s presence and, each time, he’s reduced me to a pathetic coward.
I wasn’t.
I was a lot of things, and I might be pathetic, but I wasn’t a coward. I was willing to die for Frankie. That meant something, right?
“Robbie-”
I didn’t care to listen to what he had to say. “Don’t ever touch me again, Ciro,” I demanded. “Stay away from me, and I’ll stay away from you.” I wanted to slap him again, so due to self-preservation, I turned to get back into the car.
I yelped as he grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me back, until my back hit his hard chest. He leaned down, his breath on my ear. “Don’t ever presume to think you can tell me what to do, Robbie.”
“Ciro-”
He tightened his hold, and tears sprang to my eyes. “If I want to touch you, I will,” he snarled. “If I want to keep an eye on you, I will. If I want to turn your life into a living hell, I will. If I want to move into your goddamn house, I will!” Oh, God. Ciro was losing it and I wasn’t equipped to handle a man like this. “Don’t ever fucking give me demands again, Robbie.” My knees buckled when I felt his tongue run from the strap of my dress all the way up my neck and to my ear. His other arm wrapped around my waist like a band, constricting my ability to breathe. “Now, get in that car and go the fuck home. And, while you’re there, take the time to remember just who the fuck you’re dealing with. You won’t keep getting second chances, Robbie. The only reason you’re still alive is because I don’t want to upset my sister. And that’s the only reason.” He let me go and I stumbled against the car.
I stood there in shock as I heard his footsteps fade away. It wasn’t until I heard him drive off that I finally got in the car.
It was another fifteen minutes before I stopped shaking enough to put the key in the ignition.
Chapter 7
Ciro~
Motherfucker!
I stormed into The Sapphire, and the look on my face must have given me away, because not one person stopped me to talk business, say hello, or kiss my ass. And I chose The Sapphire because I was in serious need of its atmosphere because I was losing my motherfucking mind.
Each club I had catered to a different clientele. That’s what made them so successful. They weren’t run-of-the-mill clubs. Sure, I had a couple of standard bars within the city, but my clubs were exclusive. That’s not to say you couldn’t get into them, it just meant that if it wasn’t your scene, you realized it pretty quickly.