2: Punish you

POV: Bianca

He left and took my attraction, fear and terror with him, leaving only a very annoyed, very insulted, livid twenty one year old.

How dare he? Who does he think he is, calling me a whore? I mean, he could end my life with just a raise of an eyebrow but that's not the point. I am the farthest thing from a whore!

Ugh!

I stamped my feet and walked all the way back to the dining room where everyone was laughing and intermingling, preparing for a meal.

I noticed a lean, lithe girl with dark brown hair talking excitedly with my mum and Emilio. She looked up when I stepped into the room, dark eyes brightening.

"Is that Bianca?" She yelped in an overexcited voice and I looked up just in time to see a her rushing over to me, intent on pulling me into a hug.

I braced myself but still stumbled backwards as her tiny body collided with mine.

"It's so nice to meet you in person!" She shrieked excitedly, chocolate brown eyes shining in glee. "Mio Dio, you're so pretty. Bellissima!"

I blushed under her praises especially because she was the prettiest woman I have ever seen. With soft, delicate features, a heart shaped face and peach pink lips.

She pulled me into their midst and clung to me happily, chittering about my glossy hair and perfect makeup.

I decided I liked the twenty year old and it would be good to have her as a friend. Her bubbly personality could drown out the dark thoughts always swirling around in my head.

"Inés, don't smother her before she's even properly initiated into the family."

The voice made my blood run cold.

"I apologize for being late. Papa. Mária."

My spine went still as Andre hugged his father and paused to give my mother a kiss on her forehead. He did the same his sister and when it reached my turn, he extended his hand for a formal handshake.

I glared angrily at the space in front of me, my hands balling into livid fists at my sides.

A few moments passed and I swear, it felt like everyone in the entire room was holding their breaths.

"Bianca," he prodded and I could feel the impatience coating his tongue, his accent heavier with annoyance.

I knew pissing this man off would only lead to my doom but I've never condoned disrespect or backed down from a fight.

He chuckled darkly, a mocking taunt, and he withdrew his hand for a moment.

I was about to tuck this as a win but suddenly, his arms went around me, pressing me into his hard rigid form.

I went absolutely still, his spicy scent cocooning my nostrils and leaving me breathless. I found myself wanting to inhale more of him, his dark scent of mystery and ruthlessness tearing at my common sense.

Merda! Why was everything about him so hot?

My thoughts dissipated into mist as he dragged his lips to my ear, a deadly threat in his words, "The next time you fucking disrespect me like that, micetta, you will pay for it with your life."

His words stung and he let me go, his eyes scathing me with the boiling rage in them. He had a cold look on his face and I swallowed, trying to gulp down spurts of air.

H- He just threatened me.

My heart canted a new beat. My head was spinning wildly.

And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, his hand rested on my naked back, his touch searing into my skin, almost like he was branding me.

"Let us eat," he said, his voice soft and patient, a calm command in them and his hand didn't leave my back, pushing me in the direction I should go as everyone converged towards the dining table.

He practically shoved me into a seat and took the one next to mine.

I snapped out of the spell he casted over me, my hands balling as I stared at the rest of this dysfunctional family to see if anyone just saw what he did.

Sadly, everyone else was chattering along, oblivious to the monster among us.

And even if they heard him, what would they do? What could they do against the most powerful man in all of Italy and Chicago?

I felt helpless, breathless, residual fear of the trauma I had sustained at the hands of my uncle trickled into my veins.

I hated feeling helpless. Threatened. Beaten into submission. Like a caged animal, I fought back and I fought back with all my might.

Andre thinks he can threaten me and I will roll and heel like a good dog? He has another thing coming.

Rage sputtered into my veins, blurring my vision and eating up what common sense I had.

"Asshole," I growled,

I watched him freeze, no doubt he heard what I just said.

But still, he thawed, barely restrained anger and annoyance rolling off of him in waves.

He was angry? Good. That made two of us.

"What did you say?" He whispered, deathly and quiet, daring me to repeat my words and offering me a chance to take back what I just said as the rest of the family chatted happily about the upcoming wedding.

I turned to look at him, and his cruel beauty slammed into me faster than a freight train. I hated how good he looked, even when angry. His jaw was tightly clenched, rage simmering in his eyes.

He looked livid. But so was I.

"I said," I growled lowly so only he could hear, "you're a fucking asshole."

His eyes bulged, his nostrils flared. Wrath consumed his entire being and a ball of fear curdled in my stomach.

But I didn't have time to think as he suddenly rose from his seat, his chair falling back from the action. His hand slapped around my wrist and he yanked me out of my seat, dragging me along with him.

"Andre!" Emilio bellowed at his son, his bushy eyebrows furrowing into his skull at his son's behavior. "What is the meaning of this?"

Andre threw him a pissed off look, "I want have a word with her. We'll only take a minute."

To my horror, Emilio conceded, letting his son drag me away.

Andre didn't meet any resistance as he pulled me along with him and out of the room. All the breath left my lungs when he shoved me against a wall, his hand closed around my neck and I squeezed my eyes shut mentally preparing for his attack.

But instead of throttling me like I knew he wanted to, his fingers brushed across my neck softly. Almost like a lover's caress.

I opened my eyes and saw in his, an expression so cold and dark, it turned my blood to ice.

Still, I held his gaze fiercely.

"You are courting death, micetta," he whispered softly, every inch of him, taut with anger.

"I'm not one of your men you can command and threaten. You can't expect me to fall in line and shoot myself at your request. I will die before I let cruel assholes like you control who I am and what I wear."

Anger exploded in those chasm like eyes of his. His hand tightened around my neck. Dominating and punishing. I inhaled oxygen in harsh wisps.

"You show up to an important dinner dressed like a cunt and proceed to disrespect me in my own home."

His hand tightened to a point I was sure would leave scars for days. Stars bursted in front of my vision.

"My father may be more tolerant with you because he is in love with your mother but I hold no such ties. If you are more problem than you're worth, I WILL deal with you as I see fit. Don't think that because we are about to be family, I will hesitate to punish you for your insolence."

My lungs were screaming for air. My hands closed around his arm but I didn't fight him off.

The silence and peace than came with being choked had my eyes rolling back. My hands fell to my sides.

Suddenly the pressure let up and my lungs sighed in relief as oxygen dragged into my nostrils. I gulped down bouts of air, sanity returning to my head.

I looked up at him, gasping for breath. His gaze was hard and cold on me.

Regret was the last thing swirling in those onyx eyes.

My hands clutched at my chest, my heart rattling against my ribcage.

He could have killed me.

My eyes widened as a sudden realization slammed into my gut, punching the daylights out of me.

He could have killed me. But that was not the most horrifying thing. The most horrifying thing was that, I would have gladly let him.