I asked Andrea for a dance, and she gracefully accepted my hand. She was certainly not the same woman we had met just two months ago. Tonight, she appeared poised, confident, and immaculately dressed, her makeup flawless. Her gown was more modest than Christina's, though both women were equally elegant, commanding the room's attention in their own ways.

As the song neared its end, I noticed Andrea's focus waver. Her body moved in rhythm with the music, but her gaze repeatedly flickered to something or someone behind me. I could sense a palpable tension building in her, almost like rage simmering beneath the surface. I wondered who or what had caused such a shift in her demeanor.

The song ended abruptly, and Andrea withdrew her hand from mine. "Excuse me," she said flatly, her voice devoid of its earlier grace. Before I could react, she stormed off toward Raffaele and Christina. Their brother, Matteo, seemed to be approaching Christina for the next dance, but I noticed Christina clinging tightly to Raffaele's arm, her knuckles white from the strength of her grip.

Curious about the rising tension, I followed Andrea to get a closer look at what was happening.

"What did I tell you would happen if you touched her again?" Andrea hissed, her voice laced with venom. The change in her personality was startling. Gone was the graceful woman from a moment ago. In her place was a fierce protector, her eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. Her grip on Matteo's arm was tight, almost bruising.

For a second, Matteo seemed stunned, but he quickly recovered his composure. "I was just asking Christina for a dance," he replied, his tone casual, but there was a flicker of wariness in his eyes. He wasn't as unaffected as he pretended to be.

"Oh no, she didn't want to, so you can shove that excuse up your ass," Andrea shot back, her words cutting like a blade.

"What's going on here?" Dante Caravello's booming voice interrupted, his gaze locking onto Andrea. John Luciano stood right behind him, his expression equally stern.

"She was feeling rather lightheaded," Raffaele finally spoke, his voice calm but clearly aiming to de-escalate the situation. He knew where this was headed, and he was trying to prevent it.

Caravello took a long, scrutinizing look at the group before him. After a tense moment, he cleared his throat and announced that it was time for everyone to be seated for dinner.

As we moved toward the table, I placed my hand gently on the small of Christina's back. She tensed at the contact, but she didn't pull away. We took our seats, Christina beside me, while Andrea sat across from us next to Raffaele. The tension between them all was palpable.

The dinner was elaborate, with several courses of finely prepared dishes. Christina, however, barely touched her food. She stuck to small portions, her attention more on the alcohol than the meal, though she drank just enough to take the edge off without becoming tipsy. Her eyes, however, betrayed her true feelings. Every time Matteo's gaze crossed hers, terror flashed in her eyes.

It didn't take much for me to piece together why she reacted this way. If my suspicions were correct, Matteo was as good as dead. No one disrespects or harms my wife. I may not love her-I doubt I ever will, given how broken I am-but I will protect her and respect her choices.

By 8 PM, the ceremony had ended, and guests began to retire to their rooms. I guided Christina to the room assigned to us, but as we walked, I noticed her growing more tense with each step. It was clear she didn't trust me, and I couldn't blame her. She had every reason to be afraid, given everything that had happened.

As soon as I closed the door behind us, Christina bolted into the bathroom. I nearly laughed at the sight. She reminded me of a skittish deer trying to escape a predator. A beautiful deer, no doubt. While I was tempted to devour her in every sense of the word, I knew better than to rush her. I would move at her pace, no matter how agonizing it was for me.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a white nightgown that barely reached mid-thigh. The material was sheer around her stomach, revealing a glimpse of her skin, and the neckline, with its delicate straps, exposed just enough of her cleavage to make my pulse quicken. She was stunning, and my body reacted instantly. The pants felt way too constricting. I had to take a deep breath to control my rising desire.

From the way she tugged at the hem of the gown, it was obvious she hadn't chosen it herself. She looked incredibly uncomfortable, her movements uncertain as if she wanted to hide. I stood up from my chair and walked toward her.

As I approached, she instinctively backed away, retreating until her back was against the wall. I stopped just in front of her, close enough that our feet almost touched. I lifted my arm, placing my hand on the wall next to her head, effectively blocking her path back to the bathroom. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, avoiding my gaze.

I gently lifted her chin, guiding her to meet my eyes. Her bright blue eyes were filled with fear, and I held her gaze for a long moment before speaking.

"I'm not going to touch you," I said, my voice low but firm. She didn't seem convinced. Her body remained tense, and I could feel her uncertainty. I tightened my grip on her chin just slightly, enough to make her pay attention. "I'll respect your 'no' as if it were my own. I won't hurt you in any way. I will never raise my hand to you, and I will never touch you against your will. But I can assure you, soon enough, you'll want me to touch you."

I brought my hand to the side of her neck, my thumb gently rubbing the pulse point. I felt her shudder beneath my touch, and a wave of satisfaction washed over me. "But until you're ready, I won't. You don't have to fear me. I'm your husband, and I'll protect you because you are now part of my family. Do you understand?"

My hand lingered on her neck, tracing light circles with my thumb. She looked at me, her fear slowly giving way to something else-something resembling hope.

"Use your words, little deer," I whispered, leaning closer to her ear.

"I understand," she replied softly, her voice trembling slightly from my proximity.

"Good," I murmured, my voice soft but intense. Then I asked the question that had been burning in my mind. "Now, what did Matteo do to you?"

Her entire body froze, tension rippling through her frame. She didn't answer right away, so I pressed on. "You can either tell me, or I'll go find out from him myself. And trust me, you won't want that. I need to know that my wife will tell me when something happens."

She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "It happened about a week before the marriage proposal."

My blood turned cold. "He raped you?" My voice was dark, a lethal edge creeping into my tone.

"No, no," she said quickly, shaking her head. "He tried, but Andrea stopped him. He tied my hands to the bedpost and touched me... without my consent." Her voice broke, barely audible as tears welled up in her eyes.

Rage surged through me, and without thinking, I moved toward the door, ready to end Matteo. But before I could leave, Christina grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

"Don't, please," she begged, her voice frantic. "If my father finds out, Andrea and I will get in trouble for telling you. It will ruin the marriage. Andrea already has bruises because of him. Please, I don't want him to hurt her again."

Her desperation gave me pause. I could have easily shaken her off, but something in her eyes held me back. More than fear for herself, she was worried about Andrea. These sisters were fiercely protective of each other, and it was clear Christina would do anything to keep Andrea safe.

"If it makes any difference, Andrea came in before anything serious happened. She pulled him off me and broke his nose," Christina added, her voice still soft but holding a hint of pride.

I was impressed. I made a mental note to mention this to Raffaele. He might need to sleep with one eye open.

"If he ever comes near you again, you tell me. For now, I'll let it go, but this isn't over. Do you understand, little deer?"

She nodded quickly, her relief evident.

I headed to the bathroom to freshen up, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. When I returned, wearing only trousers, I found Christina already under the covers, lying on the right side of the bed. When her eyes landed on me, they widened in surprise. I watched as her gaze traveled over my bare chest, lingering on the tattoos that covered my skin like a map of battles fought and won.

Her face flushed a deep crimson, and she quickly ducked under the covers, turning away from me in embarrassment. But before she did, I caught the briefest glimpse of something else in her eyes-something that made me want to keep her extremely safe and protected.