I'm Not Interested in You


The petite, almost fragile-looking woman shivering like a wet cat in front of me was Delaney Lombardi. Her name rolled off my tongue as I tapped her shoulder to get her attention, but she was wide-eyed and in some kind of terrified trance.

Tommaso sighed heavily, giving me an exasperated look as I snapped my fingers at her. “Raise your arms up,” my right-hand man told her. I glanced at Tommaso, shaking my head, as Delaney started sobbing between us. We were standing in a small alcove somewhere in the back of the mansion, three of my best guards forming a semi-circle around us to shield the girl from watchful eyes as Tommaso pulled a large sweatshirt over her head. It was his, and it swallowed her up so much that the length of it brushed against her knees.

“Better?” Tommaso asked as Delaney glanced between us with wide hazel eyes filled with nothing but fear and confusion. That was a natural reaction, I supposed, but also a predictable one. Boring. “Pretty cold in here, huh?”

She swallowed, the column of her throat bobbing with effort as she gave us a quick nod. Her shoulder-length bleached-blonde hair was sweaty and clinging to her forehead. I glanced between my guards, making sure we were still alone and unseen. The auction was over, and now everyone who had better places to go was leaving, especially those that had bought women tonight.

“Get her in the car,” I said to Tommaso, who nodded and tried to take Delaney by the elbow, but she flinched away from him, whimpering.

I exhaled deeply, rolling my eyes away from Tommaso and placing both of my hands on her narrow shoulders. She jumped, trying to pull away but I dug my fingers in, finding just skin and bone. She was so thin, so pathetic. I might’ve felt sorry for her if I was capable of it, or if I wasn’t using her to draw her rat of a father out of hiding.

“I’m not interested in you in the slightest,” I assured her, arching a brow as her lower lip jutted out and trembled. “Not my type, sweetheart.”

“W-Why am I h-here then?”

“I think you know,” I said, shrugging.

“Hungry? You look hungry,” Tommaso said. “Get in the car and we’ll stop for something to eat on the way, alright? Sounds good to you?”

“I j-just wanna go home—”

I cut her off before her desperation choked her up again. “Not gonna happen. Go on now.”

She winced and started crying again as Tommaso led her away, followed closely by one of the guards. I sighed, shaking my head as the fawn of a girl tripped over her own bare feet several times before disappearing out a door leading to a large, open space lined with cars.

I waited for a while. I didn’t want to be seen with Delaney. She was one of the last to be auctioned off, and I’d had Tommaso bid on her while I crept through the crowd looking for someone I hadn’t been aware was there before he’d placed a bid on that dark-haired woman that had locked eyes with me and done something sharp to my body I could barely put into words.

It didn’t take long to find out her name. Gabriele de Luca was a boisterous bastard, the kind that liked to brag. Seraphina Bianchi. The fucking princess of the Bianchi family. How the hell had she ended up here, and more importantly, why?

Gabriele was also a sick fuck and my enemy. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of someone like Seraphina being spread wide for him, especially after seeing that flash of heat roll through her while she’d held my gaze.

I’d almost bid on her on impulse. I would have, had Tommaso not drawn my attention away toward a commotion in the back of the room.

That moment would probably haunt me forever, especially after finding out her name. I had a history with the Bianchis and it wasn’t good. Her recognition of me was clear as day.

The way she’d looked at me had sparked something long dormant in me.


“Let’s go,” I said, motioning to the guards as I started walking forward. I walked outside and saw Tommaso standing with the door open, his hand curled over the window as he watched a car speeding off into the night. I followed his gaze and stopped in my tracks as Mattia fucking Greco, Andre Bianchi’s right-hand, bolted back into the mansion. I turned to Tommaso, shock rippling over my skin as he met my gaze.

“Holy shit,” he said under his breath. “You won’t believe what I just heard.”

“Get in the car,” I said hastily, looking back over my shoulder as Tommaso began to relay what he’d overheard between Gabriele’s man and Mattia. Gabriele, who had just bought Mattia’s boss’s daughter. This was big. “We need to leave, now.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked as he rolled up the partition so Delaney couldn’t hear our conversation as she sat in the back seat with two of my guards. I took the wheel and peeled out of the driveway, my mind reeling.

“Nothing.” I gritted my teeth. “Not my business.”

Tommaso grunted, tapping his knee. “You sure about that?”

What had that girl gotten herself into?

I had to make a decision. The clock started ticking the second Seraphina was dragged from the stage.

“I want men following both Gabriele and Mattia,” I said after a moment. “I need to know why she was auctioned off before I do anything.”

Part of me wanted to go straight to Gabriele right now and take her away from him. But that feeling could’ve been based on that look she gave me, the way her doll-like, expressionless gaze snapped with sudden rage that sent a tremor of heat licking down my spine. It had been a fleeting glance, but it had cut right through me. That girl would be mine. All I had to do was reach out and take her.

If something was going on between Gabriele and her father? Well, two birds, one stone, right? She’d be wanted by both of my enemies, and in my clutches. That itself was worth something. Power. Advantage. Amusement. Tommaso had called me a Tom Cat once and a bastard for playing with my prey. Who could blame me for seeking out a little fun every now and then?

But I also had Delaney to consider. Her father thought he could go behind my back with no recourse, so I’d taken his most prized possession.

What a game this was, I thought to myself.

And I really liked to play it.

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