Alessandro DeLuca

“What if I say that I’m not interested?”

I lean back in my chair. “You have the right to say how you feel, but I can promise you you won't feel the same by the end of this night.”

“And you think I’m about to give you a chance to prove it?” she asks, lifting one finely arched eyebrow.

“Unless you plan to walk out those doors, you have no choice.”

“Wow,” she says, setting her glass on the table. “Are you always this…”

“Confident?”

“No, I was about to say rude.”

“I don’t think that I’m being rude at all. As with all the finer things in life, I see what I want, and I don’t stop until I own it.”

Scoffing, she says, “Oh, so I’m a possession now?”

“Every woman wants a man to claim her and make her his.” I scooted my chair closer to hers. “She wants to be dominated, ruled, and submit. She just wants it to be her idea, not his.”

“Okay, Mr.?”

“DeLuca. Alessandro DeLuca.”

There’s that light flicker in her eyes before it’s removed, and a smile settles on her lips.

“Okay, Mr. DeLuca. First, let me say that I’m not the woman for you. I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else. But for the sake of argument, let me humor you. Let’s just say that I want to be dominated. Tell me how you plan to get me to submit to your will and convince me that it’s my idea, not yours.”

I am not going to rush this moment or scare her away. Instead, I sip my wine, waiting for her to meet my gaze until she’s wondering, like others I’ve preyed on, where I’m going with this.

“Sweetheart, it’s not words that I will use to convince you.”

“Oh, it’s your actions, huh?”

“Among many things.”

“So, you think you’ll get me back to your bed tonight or upstairs in your office?”

“I won’t, and I’m not trying to. One-night stands come a dime a dozen, and I can walk up to any woman in this club right now, and she’ll follow me, do my bidding, and beg for another chance.”

“Then why don’t you do that?” she asks, lifting her wine glass again.

The woman looks bothered and rolls her eyes back out onto the dance floor. I’m willing to bet she’s scanning the competition. What she doesn’t know, or perhaps she does when I see a flicker of a smile, there is no competition for her.

“Because I’m not looking for a one-night stand. I told you I’m looking for a woman to make my own. Claim her because once she is, I’ll own her body, soul, mind, and heart.”

“Do you really want that from a woman? One who’s nothing more than a slave? One who can’t think for herself, follow her ideas, create her own goals, and rule her world?” She sounds disgusted.

“I never said any of that.”

“Sounds like it to me.”

“Claiming a woman comes with my protection, provision, and loyalty to that woman. Owning a woman means that she’ll give me all of her and never share herself with another. When it comes down to it, she’ll roll with me every time and won’t have to think about it. She'll choose me without hesitation if forced to choose between her parents and me. That’s the type of loyalty that I demand from a woman.”

She chuckles and shakes her head.

“Guess I was right then.”

“About?”