Page 4 of Wicked Villain

My mother would die before putting me in danger, and she would do whatever she could to stop this wedding. Through the years of deception, she’s never once thought about what my father could do to her, only ever about me.

Mama only agreed to the Bellandi arrangement because my father threatened to marry me off to worse men. It became a situation of better the devil you know than the ones you don’t.

“All you have to do is be yourself.” The long, sad stare she gives me says so much. All the things she can’t say, and the things we must never speak of. Like who I really am. It’s at times like these, when she looks at me, giving me that knowing look, that I know she’s thinking of me as Allegra, not Gabrielle.

Mama is the only one who gives a damn about what pretending to be my sister has done to me.

A knock on the door cuts into the moment. Before either of us can answer, my bedroom door swings open and Danillo walks in. Mama and I both straighten, holding our breath.

With his casual good looks, sharp, almost black eyes, and condescending attitude, Danillo Bellandi has always reminded me of Lucifer in a Brioni. He looks like it even more tonight.

He smiles at me. That smile of appreciation most men give me.

“Mirella, I’d like a word with my bride-to-be.” It’s not a question.

“Certainly.” Mama nods but glances at me before leaving my side. She heads toward the door, waiting until she gets past Danillo before her brows knit with worry.

I half expect her to say something more to him, but she doesn’t. Instead, she heads through the half-opened door. Anything to keep the peace.

Danillo closes the door. The soft click rings through my body, louder than it really is. He takes slow steps forward, eyes roaming up my body. The desire in his stare curdles my blood.

“Beautiful.” He nods, stopping a breath away from me.

“Thank you.” I’ve learned not to say too much to him. Just the right amount of words to hold a general conversation.

“It’s almost time for the evening to start.” His eyes finally meet mine, and that gaze settles on me. “Thought we could head out together.”

“Of course.” Better to agree, though I would have preferred to walk out with Mama or by myself. I know what he wants, though. The appearance. He wants us to look like the power couple.

He cocks his head, his gaze still pinning me in place. “I spoke with your father about your living arrangements after tonight.”

Shit. What does that mean? “Living arrangements?” I was to stay here until the wedding. Please, God, don’t tell me that’s changed.

“I want you at my place by the end of next week.”

My breath lodges in my throat. “No. Why? I thought I was⁠—”

His hand shoots out so fast I barely register that he’s moved. One second, he’s standing there, the next his hand is around my throat and he’s pulling me flush against him.

“Did you just tell me no?”

Oh God. Why in the hell did I say that? Haven’t I learned by now? Still, I need clarity. This can’t be happening. I can’t live with him yet.

“I’m supposed to have a month,” I rasp out.

He squeezes my throat. “Look, Gabrielle.” The cold manner he uses when he says my sister’s name always thickens my blood. “You will fucking obey me and do whatever I tell you. Do you hear me?”

I nod. And I don’t ask any more questions.

God knows I’m not a pushover. I’m doing the sensible thing of choosing which battles I fight, but fuck, it hurts to feel weak.

“Good girl.” He tightens his grip around my neck and smiles, then he sneers. “I can see it in your eyes, Gabrielle.”

“See… what?” Although I can’t breathe, I pretend he’s not hurting me and gaze back at him.

“How much you absolutely loathe me.” He chuckles deep. I don’t argue. He’s right. I loathe him. I can school my thoughts all I want, but my eyes always give me away. “I simply can’t wait to fuck that hate right out of you.”

What a fucking prick. I don’t want him to touch me. I don’t want him to own my body. I feel like I might die when he does.