Virgin (Vitali's Legacy)

Mark cocked his head to the side and observed her with amused blue eyes. “Oh? Why not?”

“I’m not going to be here for long, am I?”

“Is that right?”

“Seems so.”

She had barely seen anybody since Mark returned. Angelo, Mark, and Bobby were obsessed with one another. She could see why. Angelo was powerful. Mark was handsome and probably kind. And Bobby was like one of those dogs who goes crazy when his military master returns home from a long deployment and will not leave his side.

“I’m sorry my return has been so disconcerting for you. Believe me. I have not come here to displace you.”

“Can’t displace what doesn’t have a place, to begin with,” Gemma replied. “I don’t think we need to get to know one another. I think you have better things to worry about.”

Mark sauntered a few steps more into the room. He was wearing a gray wool sweater and jeans. He looked like he’d stepped out of an advertisement for being a man.

“Well, how about I’m ordering you to get to know me.”

Gemma narrowed her eyes at Mark. “Forgive me if I don’t give a shit about following your orders. I know I’m on the chopping block next.”

“Feisty,” he noted. “But also, wrong. Nobody intends to hurt you.”

“That’s a lie. In this house, everybody intends to hurt everybody else. It’s only ever a matter of time. Besides, I don’t need you to tell me when I’m wrong when I’m actually right. Bobby does that for me.”

“And now you have me too. There’s a chain of command here, little girl, and you’re at the bottom of it.”

Shouting, you’re not my real dad, and you never will be, at Mark was a suddenly attractive option, though Gemma managed to maintain her composure and only whisper the words under her breath.

“You guys cycle through women like we’re disposable. I don’t intend to end up being another Vitali casualty.”

“Is that right?”

“Look what you did to Tilly. Sold her to some prince to be bred. Bobby told me.”

Mark shifted uncomfortably. “That’s not exactly how it went down….”

“I’m sure she doesn’t think so. I’m sure she’s just thrilled to be a princess and have all the royal babies she can have. She sounds like a ditz.”

“That’s enough,” Mark said sharply. He did not tolerate speaking ill of the recently remarried, apparently.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” Gemma smirked. “Oh no!”

“I can see why you and Bobby are a match,” Mark noted dryly. “You both push buttons just to see what will happen.”

“And what is going to happen, Mark? How are you all going to dispose of me? Do I get married off? Or is it a bullet, like poor Willow?”

“There is no talk of getting rid of you in any way, Gemma. You might have to come to terms with being a part of the family.”

She tried very hard not to smile at that and then failed. “Wish that was true, but it’s not. Angelo is the final decider, and he and I barely have anything to do with each other. I’m an amusement and a distraction for Bobby. Maybe a training tool. But I’ll eventually outlive my usefulness, and then it’ll be sayonara, Gemma.”

“You’ve got quite the fear of abandonment,” Mark noted.

“It’s not a fear of abandonment when you’re the prisoner of a man who shoots women. It’s common sense.”

“Angelo hasn’t hurt you,” Mark said. “That much is obvious. So maybe, think about toning it down before you really annoy him.”

“I don’t have anything to do with him! And why? What does it matter if I annoy him if nobody intends to hurt me?”

“In case you end up over his knee. Or mine, for that matter.”

She drew back from him with a hiss.

“If you so much as lay a finger on me, I will make you regret it. I’ve told Bobby this, and I’ll tell you too: fuck off.”

Mark chuckled. “You are going to spend a lot of time sore, aren’t you, Gemma.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m some little girl. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve been through.” She drew in a breath and absolutely forbade herself from crying, even though that was really all she wanted to do. It was not easy living in the aftermath of recent events. She had been shot and left for dead. She had almost died, only to be resurrected in a mad scheme to entrap the man she now owed fealty to. And she had seen her best friend be shot by the same man. If Gemma had ever been closer to breaking point, she could not remember it.

“Well?” Angelo was curious to see what Mark thought of Gemma. He had his own impressions and ideas, of course, but Mark was an excellent judge of character.

“She’s a brat. Like Bobby. Except mouthier, and hopefully less violent.”