Page 18 of Fractured
Settling my hand on Isabella’s shoulder she flinches, making her dress slide marginally off her shoulder, revealing a purple bruise the size of grapefruit. My eyebrows draw together, but I quickly recover and move my hand to the middle of her shoulder blades away from the tender spot.
That must have happened when she landed on the floor.
Clearing my throat, “Good evening everyone, and thank you for coming. On behalf of most of the men in the room, I apologize to our ladies for being late. I’m sure we will make it up to you in other ways.”
I hold up my other hand. “Scouts honor, I swear.”
I wink at Isabella, and the room bursts into laughter.
I expected a blush to rise in her cheeks, but Isabella only shifted in her chair, facing the crowd with that imitation smile still displayed on her face. I turn my attention back to the room.
“On a serious note, we’d like to thank everyone for joining us tonight. It’s been a long week of business, so tonight, I’d likeeveryone to celebrate with us.”
I urge Isabella to stand with gentle pressure on her back. She gets up and grabs her glass.
“To joining two houses as one!”
I raise my glass high in the air. I turn to Isabella and she raises her glass, leaning in to kiss her, and just as I’m about to touch those soft lips with mine, she turns and quickly kisses my cheek. She raises her glass, smiles at the room, and takes a sip, sitting back down.
Oh really, that’s the game you want to play, little bunny. Let’s play, shall we?
Robert stands up, and my gut clenches. I want to choke the bastard out. The Gallos are nothing but a pain in my ass.
“Here! Here! Let the Russo and Gallo’s houses unite. May you be fruitful and have many little bambinos for us to spoil.” He looks at my father, who also raises his glass, but says nothing and only smiles.
I take my seat once again, smiling politely at the crowd as I place my napkin on my lap. Just to piss her off, I put my arm around the back of her chair. She stiffens and moves slightly away, giving herself more distance from me.
I take a sip, set my glass down, and look at her. The waiter comes and goes. I keep looking at her. The salad is served, and she busies herself with her meal. I reach over and grab a piece of bread, dip it in the seasoned olive oil, and bring it to her lips. She immediately goes still.
“Open bunny, before it drips on your lovely dress.” I smile at her smugly.
She looks at me and then back at the bread. Her eyes are round with apprehension, her face drained of color. She leans forward, opens her mouth, and then closes it again.
I follow her throat as she swallows and opens her mouth again, ready to take a small bite. Her tongue darts out, licking the oil off her shiny lips. I pop the rest of the bread into my mouth, smiling at her as I chew.
Isabella puts a hand to her mouth and turns away from me, forcing herself to swallow. Righting herself once again, she reaches for her fork to stab at her salad and I take it out of her hand. Slowly, I fill it and bring it to her mouth once again. Her face flushes and she looks at me, annoyance burning in her eyes.
I lean into her shoulder, running my nose up the side of her throat up to her ear, “Open bunny, tonight is all about you.”
She doesn’t move. No shivers are running down her body, not a goosebump on her skin. Her breathing doesn’t increase as I had expected, and she looks straight ahead at the room full of people.
I move back and study her. She opens her mouth and takes the salad off the fork swiftly, chewing slowly and turning away again to swallow. I take a forkful for myself, filling it once again for her, but she puts her hand up to stop me and reaches for her water, taking a long drink.
I put the fork to her lips. They tremble as she wraps them around the tines and slides the salad off. I started this game to piss her off, but with each mouthful of food, her submission to being fed by my hand makes my cock ache.
She holds her hand to her mouth again. I can see her struggling to swallow. She reaches for the water and takes another long drink.
I watch her wipe her mouth with the napkin, gently putting it back in her lap. The waiter comes and removes the salad. She watches as he places a plate of steak and potatoes with greens in front of us. Isabella swallows hard again and turns her face away.
What’s with her and food lately?
“Did you pick out the menu, bunny?”
I cut a small piece of steak and hold it out again to her succulent lips. Her head tilts back, she minutely shakes her head no. I move the fork closer and her lips press together, forming a white line.
“Open Bella, you will eat,” I demand it quietly. She looks at me, those once desolate eyes are now full of malice.
She turns and looks at me, speaking softly, “I had hoped we could be civil to each other, that after your speech the other morning, we had an understanding. I see now it was only on my part rules apply.”
