MEANT TO BE BROKEN Page 2

  “I won’t hurt you, Georgina,” he says, stepping away from me.

  His words are a promise, one I somehow believe in. The sincere look in his eyes comforts me, soothing my nerves and my racing heart. This man is a riddle. One moment, he’s hot; the next, he’s cold. I know nothing about him. I should want nothing to do with him, but I want to get to know him. My name on his lips sounds like the most beautiful song. There’s a passion in the way he says it, longing, and I believe there’s a part of him that cares. He can’t be as bad as my father described him to be. There’s a gentleness in this man, somewhere deep down behind this rough façade.

  I step out of the car, swaying on my feet. I trip after a couple of steps, but his firm arm snakes around my waist before I fall, tugging me closer to his muscular frame.

  “Thank you,” I breathe.

  “Come, I’ll show you to your room.”

  Your room. I shouldn’t feel happy about what he said; it still doesn’t mean he won’t abuse me. I’m utterly at his mercy, and we both know if he wants to hurt me, no-one will stop him.

  I nod, and follow him inside the house. The place isn’t as enormous as I thought it would be. Certainly, it’s smaller than my father’s fortress, but it’s more stylish and modern. I look around when we step through the big, black wooden door. To say this place is breathtaking is an understatement. Brown oak floor and furniture match glossy black walls and white ceiling perfectly, giving this place a fashionable, elegant look. Crystal chandeliers illuminate the space, reflecting the light in tall, floor-to-ceiling, oak-framed mirrors.

  We make our way to the first floor and walk through a long, dark corridor before arriving at the last door on the right. His gaze lands on my trembling hands, and I skip a breath. His piercing chocolate eyes travel up and down my shaking frame.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he assures me, sensing my distress. “Here,” he steps aside, opening the door ajar. “Have some rest, clothes are inside the dressing room. I will come back in an hour and show you the rest of the house.” I swallow hard and take the first step, but he grabs my hand, making me halt. “And, Gina, don’t be afraid of me. I’m not your enemy here.”

  Chapter Two

  Santo

  I leave Gina to herself and make my way to my study room, next door. Locking the door behind me, I pour myself a finger of whiskey and take a seat behind a big mahogany desk.

  Fuck.

  I had every intention to destroy Gina, but that was before I laid my eyes on her and discovered she’s already been broken. One look into her beautiful, brown eyes made me halt in tracks. Her fragile frame trembling in my arms, her loud sobs, her mesmerizing yet dead eyes made me doubt everything I knew about her. Not that I knew much, anyway.

  She was scared, but I would bet my life that she wasn’t afraid of me. Not as much as I intended to scare her, anyway. Her eyes hold the fear that’s been growing over the years. Gina is a mystery, and I wonder how long will it take to break all her barriers, all the layers she’s put in place to protect herself. I want to get to know her, now more than ever. I want to find out what hides behind those sorrowful eyes. A woman as innocent as her should carry the light in her eyes, while Gina carries guilt and darkness.

  My plan was simple. All I wanted was revenge on the man who shattered my family to the pieces. I wanted to take everything away from him before I killed him. All I needed was the means to do it. Gina is my key to his kingdom. The stupid old man made sure that as his only offspring, Gina became a major shareholder in his companies and all the businesses around Italy when she turned eighteen, and in case of his passing, his daughter was to inherit everything and become the first mafia queen of the Italian underworld. And so, I stole the mafia princess and half of his kingdom in the process. But that was never the plan.

  Now that I look at it, I understand the burden she carries on her shoulders. I understand the fear glistening in her eyes. Whether or not she is aware of her role, she’s more powerful than any woman on the old continent. Yet, my initial plan has changed. I want her. Every part of her. I want her body, her mind, and her soul. I want her to become the rightful queen, and I want to be the king by her side, so we can rule the underworld together, and by doing so, have our revenge on the monster who hurt the both of us — her father.

  Now I need to deliver the news to my bride-to-be.

  ֍

  I drink two more glasses of whiskey, savoring its smoky taste for the next hour. When it’s time to go, I straighten my suit and make my way to her room. Knocking gently, I put my ear to the door, listening for her steps. A few minutes pass, but there’s no response. I knock again, a little louder this time, but to no avail. When after the third knock she doesn’t respond, I open the door ajar and peek inside. I find her sleeping peacefully, wrapped in a plush navy blanket in the middle of the king-sized bed. Now that she’s asleep, her petite silhouette looks even smaller. I take a step inside and close the door behind me. I move toward the bed without any noise.

  Her plump mouth is slightly open, making a huffing sound every time she takes a breath. Her long, black lashes reach her cheeks, making her look like an angel. Her hair’s a mess, cascading over the white pillow and the blanket she’s pulled up to her ears. She’s alluring, innocent, and so fragile, I’m afraid my touch could break her. I can’t possibly imagine hurting her. The thought itself makes my stomach coil. And I don't like it. Because I shouldn't feel this way about her.

  I crouch beside the bed, facing her sleeping figure. I smile to myself when she whimpers, tossing around before she settles down again. She must have fallen asleep from exhaustion.

  I extend my arm to caress her cheek. Her skin is soft like rose petals, the makeup she’s been wearing is long washed. Her hair is still soaked, single strands covering her face. I take her in, and it’s like seeing her for the first time. She looks younger than her eighteen years. Her caramel skin is vivid, smooth, and warm in touch. Small freckles cover her nose and cheeks; and I smile to myself, tracing their line on her cheekbones. She whimpers again, and I move my hand away.

  Taking a deep breath, she snores quietly.

  I watch her for the next hour, seated in the large armchair in the room’s corner. This angle gives me the perfect view of her alluring face. Even now, while she sleeps, she looks as fragile as if she was made of glass. Soft whimpers escape her lips from time to time, making my cock hard, aching for her. But I know I can’t have her. I need her, yes, but it’s a business transaction, and it’s all it can ever be. Marrying her will give me access to her father’s empire, and it’s all that should matter. Yet it’s not. I want to get to know her, reveal what hides beneath this exquisite exterior. It’s a dangerous territory, somewhere I’d rather not step into, but I can’t help myself wondering what she’s like. Even so, I can’t allow myself any distractions, no matter how tempting she is. A marriage of convenience, it’s all this thing between us can ever be.

  I need to play my cards right, though. I know, forcing her to marry me won’t do me any good. She’s a wild flame, I can see it in her eyes. Behind this brittle exterior hides a warrior. Deep down, buried underneath layers of fear and anxiety, there’s a woman as wild as the storm after weeks of heat without the rain. I just need to dig deep enough to reach her.

  Shifting in the armchair, I lean in closer to take one last glance at her. Her chest rises and falls in a peaceful motion. The moonlight creeping through the window illuminates her silhouette. Soon, this sleeping angel in disguise will be my wife. She can hate me as much as she wants, but I’m the only one who can protect her now, and I’m going to make her an offer she won’t be able to refuse.

  I smirk, lifting from the armchair. I walk out of the room, closing the door behind me with a silent click. Her scent is all over the place, the sweet strawberry fragrance driving me crazy. It follows me like a ghost as I make my way to my bedroom. The moment I close the door behind me, I strip and walk to the shower. Turning on the water, I grab my aching shaft, thinking about the beauty that’s sleeping a few doors down the corridor from my room, and start to pump. Picturing her beautiful face when I hit my release, I know keeping my hands off this intoxicating enchanter will be a hassle.

  Chapter Three

  Gina

  Control.

  One word. One thing I’ve been longing to have all my life, though, it was never in cards for me. I’m the princess that’s been locked inside the golden cage all of her life. Some would say it’s a dream life. A life bathed in luxury, wealth, and carelessness. A life without a care in the world is a dream come true to many people, but not to me. I’ve tasted the poison this existence brings. Having no control over the simplest parts of your being makes every cage, even the golden one, a prison you can’t escape.

  Freedom.

  It’s something people take for granted when it’s given to them freely. In my world, freedom is a privilege. It’s a taboo people like me don’t get to talk about. All my life, I’ve struggled to accept my fate. I’ve endured many attempts to free myself from the chains gripping my hands, I lost count, but as the years went by, I came to the point when I lost the ultimate battle. The day my mother died was the day I collapsed. Ever since then, I’ve been escaping from my golden cage to the only place no-one else could slip into. The place in my mind where no-one could find me, and for the first time in my life — I was free. Now I’m trapped inside the diamond cage where the devil has an angelic face.

  The bright rays of sunshine wake me up from my slumber. I stretch lazily on the bed, savoring the softness of the mattress, forgetting for a moment where I am.

  “Did you sleep well, niñita?” His deep voice coming from the corner of the room startles me.

  I lose my breath under his i
ntense stare, and scramble to cover my body. His gaze travels up and down my frame, stopping at my face as he smirks. We eye each other for a moment before he stands up from the armchair and motions my way. I shiver, tugging the blanket closer to my body. It doesn’t skip his attention, though.

  “Gina.” His voice is husky when his gaze lands on my hands I’m gripping the blanket with. “I will not hurt you,” he says, crouching beside the bed.

  I regard him with a calculative gaze. His stormy eyes are glued to my face, his expression stern. I want to trust him. Apart from kidnapping me, he’s done me no wrong. Yet the warning bells in my mind ring loud, preventing me from giving him the benefit of the doubt. Stories of his ruthlessness precede him, and as much as I want to trust his intentions, I can’t. All sense leaves my body when he reaches out his hand and touches mine, unhooking my fingers. The shock of electricity cuts the air between us, and we both stare at each other, unmoving.

  “Get dressed and meet me downstairs in the kitchen,” he says after a moment of silence.

  Turning on his heel, he walks out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The anxiety strikes back, mixed with the emotions I’ve never felt before. His touch, it does things to my body I’ve never experienced in my life. The softness of his skin is addicting. No, I shouldn’t feel attraction toward my enemy. Wrong. This is wrong.

  But is he your enemy? the voice in my head asks.

  In the short time I’ve known him, he’s treated me with the respect my own father has never shown me. It’s a trap, my voice of reason says. I don’t want to listen. I know I shouldn’t trust him. I know he’s deceiving me, giving me false hope, and the moment I’ll take the bait, he’s going to crush me. But like a sheep walking to the slaughter, I follow.

  Getting up from the bed, I head to the bathroom. I strip out of my nightgown and turn on the shower. Stepping under the stream of water, I take a sponge and apply a decent amount of strawberry-scented body wash. I cleanse my body, pressing hard, almost breaking the skin on my cheeks. I still feel Kolkov’s filthy fingers on my flesh, still taste his lips on mine. A wave of nausea hits me, but I push it back. I can’t be weak, especially now that I’m inside the lion’s den.

  After the shower, I quickly dress in a black long sleeve T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and sneakers. I’m hesitant when I step outside of the room, expecting Santo to startle me, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I walk down the stairs in no time and that’s when I see him, dressed in a black tailored suit and a matching shirt. He’s sitting on a chair near the kitchen island, sipping coffee, and reading a newspaper. When I reach the landing, his gaze shifts to me.

  “Come, sit,” he encourages me softly, pointing at the seat across from him.

  I swallow the lump in my throat and walk in his direction, stumbling on my feet. His intense gaze never leaves me, watching me like a predator watches its prey. I take a seat, breathing out heavily. He stands up and walks toward me.

  “Would you like some coffee?” he asks.

  I nod, unable to utter a word.

  He turns on the coffee machine, watching me from over his shoulder. “Relax, Gina,” he says, pouring the liquid into a cup and handing it to me. Then he takes a seat across from me, his gaze fixed on my face.

  “I believe we haven’t been introduced. I’m…”

  “I know who you are,” I hiss.

  “Well, I guess daddy dearest told you everything you need to know about me, am I right?” he says mockingly. “Alright then. Now that we know each other, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he begins, setting his cup aside and folding his hands on the table.

  I choke on a sip I’ve taken.

  “Okay,” I utter, my voice barely a whisper.

  He swallows and fishes something out of the pocket of his suit. I watch, shocked, as he sets a small, square box on the table and pushes it toward me. I reach for it with trembling hands, but I don’t lift the lid.

  “I have a proposition for you, niñita.” He gestures toward the box I’m gripping.

  I lift my gaze and meet his cold stare. I don’t need to ask what’s inside; I already know.

  “Open the box, Gina,” he tells me.

  I wrap my fingers around the lid and lift it slightly. The blue sapphire and diamond engagement ring inside takes my breath away. I can feel Santo’s piercing gaze tracking my every move, but I’m too stunned by the magnificent gemstone to pay attention to him. The ring is beautiful, unique, and so right at this moment, I wish it was for real. I wish I weren’t his prisoner. But I am. And nothing, even the most exquisite diamond ring, can change it. I know nothing about this man, apart from the stories I’ve heard.

  Swallowing hard, I meet his stare.

  “Gina,” he reaches out his hand, brushing his fingers across my knuckles. “I can see the wheels in your head turning,”

  “What do you want from me, Santo?” I hiss, tasting his name on my lips for the first time. The smirk on his face doesn't skip my attention, which only makes me more nervous and angry.

  “It’s simple. I want you to be my wife,” he responds, standing up from his seat.

  He circles the kitchen island and appears by my side. The warmth of his body makes it difficult for me to control my breathing. Taking out the ring from the box, he grabs my hand. The strange shot of electricity hits me, and I halt in tracks.

  “I promise, Gina, I’ll never hurt you. I won’t take what’s not given to me freely,” he makes an effort to soothe my nerves.

  “You already did,” I retort.

  “I had to steal you away. It was the only way. Or would you rather be with Victor now?”

  I flinch at the mention of the Russian mobster, swallowing the lump in my throat, and shake my head in denial.

  “I need you,” he says, and this simple phrase is filled with pain. “I need your help.”

  “My help?” I ask, laughing ironically. “I am powerless, Santo. Didn’t you see what my father did? My own father sold me like a cheap whore…”

  “Your father is a worthless piece of shit!” he roars, clenching his teeth.

  The anger radiating from his body is so vivid I can taste the venom of his words in every cell of my body. But I can’t deny that my father is a monster. The only man who was supposed to protect me turned out to be my executioner, and I can never forgive this kind of betrayal. Blood runs thicker than gold, or at least it should. Yet, the only thing my father ever cared about was himself.

  Santo squeezes my hand, making me look into his eyes.

  “I will protect you, Gina. From everyone, including myself,” he says truthfully. I can see the honesty in his eyes, and right at this moment, I believe his words. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared of him. Santo Ferrera is the most powerful man in Europe. “I will give you anything you’ll ask for, but I need you by my side.”

  “I…”

  “I’m not asking you to love me, Gina. You can live your life as you wish, as long as you stay married to me. This marriage, however bad does it sound, will be a marriage of convenience, nothing more.” His tone is harsh, but I appreciate his honesty. He’s the only person in a long while to express his intentions toward me openly, and for that, I respect him.

  “How long do we need to stay married?” I ask.

  “Ferreras marry for life, Gina. A marriage of convenience or not.”

  I stare at him, my mouth agape in shock. Anxiety crawls back in, and I shiver. For life. I will be his prisoner for life. No matter where I go, or what I do, I will always belong to him. I can’t do this. I can’t stay married to a man I don’t love for the rest of my life. But the worst thing is, I don’t really have a choice. It may seem like I do, but deep down we both know that the offer he’s making is out of his generosity. If he wants to marry me, he will. Whether I approve of it or not.

  “Name your condition, Gina. There must be something you want in return for this alliance.”