Too Late For Regret, Mr. Underboss
Chapter 3
The indulgent warmth on Nero’s face vanished.
He turned slowly, replaced by the cold, ruthless mask of the Underboss.
His dark eyes pinned me, narrowing like a predator assessing a sudden threat.
“Don't play games with me, Siena,” he rumbled, his voice dropping into a dangerous register.
He took a menacing step toward me, a warning in his stride. “Marriage isn't a bargaining chip in our world.”
I kept my hands at my sides, feeling a strange, hollow sense of peace as the fear left me.
“The date is next Saturday,” I said calmly.
I told him the name of the luxury hotel located in neutral territory.
“My dress is already tailored and waiting.”
Nero let out a harsh laugh, his upper lip curling in distaste.
“Did Gia’s wedding scramble your brain?”
He closed the distance between us, using his height to loom over me—a blatant display of dominance.
“This idiocy ends now,” he growled.
“I’ve given you eight years. I’ve given you the best protection in this city.”
He poked a heavy finger against my chest.
“Stop deluding yourself.”
“The formal invitations will be printed and distributed by tomorrow morning,” I replied coldly, unmoved by his posturing.
I had already made the arrangements. A decoy invitation with his name on it would be sent specifically to him to keep him humiliated, while the real ones went to Dante’s sealed territories.
A vein pulsed in his temple, his annoyance curdling into a quiet, terrifying rage.
“You’re being immature and unreasonable.”
His hand shot out, his fingers hooking under my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his.
“I’m about to be Don,” he hissed. “I won’t be distracted by your petty demands.”
“Are you really that desperate to be possessed by a man?” he snapped.
I stared into the depths of his eyes and could no longer find the boy who once loved me.
He didn't understand my emotional needs, and he never would.
Instead of flinching, I reached up and calmly peeled his fingers off my face.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I want to be a wife.”
Without another word, I turned and walked away.
I stepped into the master bedroom and shut the heavy oak door behind me, locking him out.
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