Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 93347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Everything was falling into place.
Everything except for Sabrina.
I had not planned on my growing obsession with her.
She was turning out to be far more fascinating and engaging than I'd anticipated.
It would prove more difficult than I cared to admit to keep my hands off her.
Unfortunately, I had no choice—at least for now.
As much as I would have preferred to simply tie her to a bed, it was essential that Sabrina not only stayed in Italy but appeared in public associated with me and the House of Diamanti.
In order for that to happen, she would have to believe—at least at first—that our relationship had shifted to a business one.
So I was forced to play the strictly professional boss…for now.
As I hustled her forward, one photographer broke free of my guards and blocked our path.
“Is she your latest pussy, Sebastian? Hey, beautiful, smile for me.”
I grabbed the man by the collar and wrenched him off his feet. “Attento a come parli!”
The man’s eyes widened as his camera crashed onto the asphalt. “What the hell? I didn’t mean it.”
Cameras continued to flash.
Without taking my eyes off the rude photographer, I let the pack behind us know, “Anyone who photographs this will find themselves working the tourist traps in the Piazza Navona by the end of the week, understood?”
The photographers fell silent.
With slumped postures, they stopped jockeying over my guards’ shoulders for a final photo and attempted to slink away.
They wouldn’t get far.
My guards would now have to confiscate all the cameras.
So much for my plan.
I yanked the unfortunate photographer close as I twisted my fist into his collar, pressing my knuckles into his throat to cut off his air. “If I ever set eyes on you again, I’ll break your neck with my bare hands.”
The man gurgled his response before I tossed him to the ground.
Taking Sabrina’s hand, I pulled her forward to the open Range Rover door.
She looked back. “Was that really necessary?”
No. It wasn’t.
I’d been dealing with obnoxious bullshit shouted at me my whole damn life.
Control.
That was always the answer.
Respond, don’t react.
And yet, this was the third time I’d reacted first when there was even a hint of a threat against Sabrina.
I stared down at her. Without her platform shoes or heels, she seemed as tiny as a bird—a bird whose fragile wings I would break.
“I will not tolerate disrespect—from anyone.”
“Part of living in New York is ignoring unwanted catcalls from strange men.”
The idea of her enduring such treatment as she walked the filthy streets of that city, without a man to protect her, bothered me more than I would admit.
I cupped her chin. “Not if I’d been there with you.”
She rolled her eyes. “What would you do? Beat up every man who looked at me sideways or shouted an obscene comment?”
The wind whipped across the bare tarmac, lashing a curl that had escaped her ponytail across her cheek.
I reached out and tucked it behind her ear. “It’s adorable you think I’d have to beat every man. I’d just have to kill the first one. The rest would get the message.”
Her fingertips skimmed along the collar of her dress. “Is that what you were doing? Sending a message?”
“Exactly.”
She cleared her throat. “But it wasn’t a real threat, right? I mean, it’s not like you’d actually kill someone.”
I tucked her arm over my elbow as I escorted her toward the cars. “Of course not.”
Her body relaxed against mine, until I finished.
“I’m a busy man. I’d have someone kill them for me.”
She tried to pull away. “You shouldn’t tease about such things.”
I wrapped my arm around her back, securing her to my side. “Who said I was teasing?”
“You’re just trying to intimidate me. I know you’re not serious. If you made a habit of beating up every obnoxious photographer or reporter, you’d have a reputation for it.”
I didn’t respond as I handed her inside the back of the car.
After sliding across the heated leather seats, she continued. “You’re a wealthy man in the public eye. It would mean lots of bad press.”
But if she didn’t stop with the questions soon, I would have to shut her up. And there was only one way to stop a beautiful woman with plump, cherry lips from talking—by wrapping those lips around my cock.
I adjusted in my seat as my shaft stirred. With the privacy screen up, I rapped on the roof to signal for the motorcade to move forward.
“I control the press,” I responded brusquely, ending the conversation.
With a sigh, she rummaged through her purse.
Her phone screen glowed in the dim interior of the car as she scrolled through it. “Can you tell the driver to drop me off at the Piazza dell’Esquilino?”
I snatched the phone from her grasp and checked the screen. “A fucking DoubleTree? You think I’m dropping you off at a goddamn budget hotel?”