Aria breaks down at the mere question, her reality again failing her. Each bit of her shatters with hope fading from her very existence. It’s then I know I’ve truly broken her and the beautiful shards of what used to be Aria Talvery can fill the crevice of my soul she broke long ago. And I can use those pieces how I’d like. Creating perfection in her from what’s been broken.
As she gasps an answer, a plea from her lips that only I can hear, I pull her tighter to me, feeling her warmth and her small body pressed securely against mine. The knife is still in her hand, although weakly held.
“You still have the knife, Aria,” I remind her. “Would you like to cut me now?” As I ask her the question, her hazel-green eyes strike me with every ounce of pain she feels at this moment. “Why are you doing this to me?” she asks, her small voice revealing her agony.
I let my fingers slip up her dress as Romano says something I don’t care to listen to.
Letting my lips trail along the back of her neck, I whisper just for her. “Do you think I’d let him fuck you?” I ask her and press my fingers to her clit, forcing her to push back and feel my cock on her bruised ass, hard at the very thought of what’s coming. “That I would let him even imagine taking what’s mine?” The hiss of my voice travels throughout the dining room, but I’m certain no one could know for sure what I’ve asked her.
Her eyes, still shining with unshed tears, finally meet mine and stare back at me as she whispers, “No.”
A smile threatens to pull at my lips and I let it as Romano and Stephan cluck their tongues in disapproval, as if they have any control at all over her. As if they know what’s coming.
I rock her into my lap again and the sweet gasp that parts her lips brings a light to her eyes. A light that I’ve given her. Only me.
Bringing my lips to the shell of her ear, I whisper, “Do you think I’d ever,” I stress the word, “let him touch you?” As I prompt her, the demeanor of my guests change.
“No,” she says with the strength of realization. My sweet girl. I watch as her breathing calms and she glances at Stephan and then Romano before looking back at me and answering me again, her head shaking and letting those locks play around her bare shoulders. “No,” she repeats softly.
“She’s rather bold, don’t you think?” Romano asks Jase, who doesn’t respond to him.
“I love how strong she is,” I say aloud, ignoring the comments from Stephan at the end of the table for a moment before adding, “Her will was difficult to break, but it was worth it.”
Declan speaks up, tired of the show I imagine. He has no patience and he states pointedly, “The dinner is getting cold.”
“Of course.” I lean back in my seat and splay my hand against Aria’s stomach to push her small body against mine. “Would you like to carve the meat, Aria?” I ask her and glance behind me toward the kitchen. “Bring out the plates in just a moment,” I call out and catch Romano’s gaze. “This chef is to die for.”
“I can hardly wait,” he says beneath his breath.
“Aria,” I tell them, “will cut the wellington and serve us, I think.” A half grin ticks up the corners of my lips as Romano smiles.
“I didn’t expect this from you,” he tells me, and I cock a brow at him. “I didn’t think you enjoyed this as much as you seem to.”
My grin widens. “You have no idea how much I enjoy this.” Tonight, my songbird will be changed forever. And I’m the one who will give it to her. She will never fear anyone but me ever again.
“You have her sit at the table?” Stephan questions me with a glint of humor in his eyes. His thin lips twitch into a smile and I manage a smile back, remembering that this is for her. She’s the one to do it. My grip on her waist tightens, to keep me from ruining everything.
“You do as you’d like in your home, but do not question me in mine.” My words are sharp and not to be taken lightly. They force the smile off his pale face while Romano coughs at the head of the table.
“I think he only means that we were expecting to see her on the floor… where slaves belong.”
Picking up the large butcher knife on the table, I put the knife firmly in Aria’s hand and command her to carve the beef wellington. She can barely reach, and I do my best to balance her as she reaches over the table, the sharp blade piercing the puff pastry shell with a slight crack that’s audible in the silent room.