Ruthless Prince (Dark Syndicate 1)

“So… you see, it can’t be any other way, Emelia Balesteri. I marry you, and I get everything you own. You belong to me, and everything you have and will get belongs to me too.”

“It’s wrong. You must know that.”

“Stop it,” he orders. His smile fades. That cool, calm demeanor returns, and I realize then that this is his dangerous side.

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to prey on my good side. I don’t have one. Don’t think I’m good just because I stopped your father from hurting you. I’m not.”

I tremble now as his gaze bores into me. He’s telling me things I should know, but mostly he’s saying I have no hope.

“Don’t you have a heart?” My voice has reverted to the weak tone it took when I first spoke as I make one final attempt to reach whatever I see in him that might resemble something human.

“No,” he answers. “I have no heart, Princesca.”

“This has nothing to do with me. I don’t know you.”

“Massimo D’Agostino, age twenty-nine, soon-to-be owner of D’Agostino Inc. Last check came up clean.” He smirks, and my soul quivers. “We will be married in one month’s time. You will live here, and that is all you need to know.”

“You think that’s enough,” I lash back.

“It’s enough because I say so. Enough nitty-gritty. I think I’ve given you enough answers to your questions. Now, take your clothes off.”

Chapter Four

Emelia

I can’t control the whimper of shock that falls from my lips.

“No…” I choke out, shaking my head.

“Yes. I want to get a look at what’s mine.”

Oh my God. This is it. He’s going to rape me, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

My survival instinct kicks in and I try to bolt past him, but one large hand clamps down on my wrist and brings me right back to where I was.

“Please, no…” I plead.

“Emelia, if you want to get along here, you will obey me, or life will be very difficult for you.”

“Obey you? Who do you think you are?” I must have some death wish asking him such a question. I’m not thinking straight. Who could in this nightmare?

“Don’t make me answer that, or repeat myself,” he hisses. “Take your clothes off.”

My God… he’s serious. I’m going to have to do this. Obey. What will happen to me if I don’t? What is worse? To be willing and allow him to take me and do whatever he wants to me, or for him to take it violently?

He releases me, and the hardened gaze he gives me now tells me not to push him. If I do… I don’t know what he’ll do to me.

I can’t believe I’m even having these thoughts. His eyes become stormy, turbulent like a tempestuous sea as his gaze rakes boldly over me with lust-filled invisible fingers.

Swallowing hard, I will myself to do this.

With trembling hands, I move the tiny strap of my summer dress down my left shoulder, then my right. I curse myself for choosing to wear this stupid dress because it makes me look cute. It’s also very easy to take off. The dress drifts to my feet the moment I slip off the second strap.

I’m in my bra and panties now. Those and my little ballerina pumps. That’s all I’m wearing.

He gives me a nod, signaling for me to take those off too.