There's nothing worse than having your ribs compacted in a tight corset. How does Emilia expect me to breathe in this thing? Oh, Jesus. I grip the wall, combating against the force of Emilia's haul on my strings. A part of me thinks she's enjoying this—revenge for marrying her crush in two days.

Emilia take him, please.

Save me from my misery.

At that moment, Julian steps in view to reflect in the mirror. His black hair swept back over the matching bandana. When our eyes meet in the mirror, I completely stop breathing. My heart flutters in my bruised ribcage, causing goosebumps to emerge on my skin—heat flares between my thighs.

I feel so scandalous.

To have my crush, my secret lover, a mere five feet away from me on my engagement party day. It's hard not to make googly eyes at Julian and to jump his bones, but I remember what's at stake if I throw caution in the wind. A flush creeps up my neck as Julian's eyes sweep over my frame, lingering on each part, especially my lips.

God, I want h-.

All the air leaves my lungs as Emilia compresses the corset. "Jesus, Emilia! I sure missed you on my three-month vacation."

She scoffs, pinching the flesh on my underarms. "Looks like you have been eating anything you want on your little vacation." Emilia squeezes the dress so tight my boobs are about to fling out of the top. "I'll have to speak to Damien. You'll have to go on a liquid diet if we want you to fit in your wedding dress."

An unexpected sharp ache comes from my back, and I jerk away from her touch. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Do you have to be so rough?"

Emilia chucks the rainbow color pins across the room. "Do you have to be such a cow? Also, take off those ribbons. You look like a five-year-old." She huffs, strolling out of the room.

"Fudge you then," I mutter to myself.

My eyes fall on the mirror. The black lace corset supports a pair of short ruffles on my shoulders, projecting my olive-tone skin. The corset meshes with the breezy fabric, cascading down to the floor. What completes the outfit is the high slit on my thigh. The dress applies pressure to my arms, emphasizing my flappy skin.

Maybe Emilia is right?

I didn't think I'd gained that much weight, but all my clothes had been fitting snugly. My fingers coil around the end of the ribbon, decorating my forefinger with the silver fabric. What's so wrong with it? It's the best way to hide them. No one wants to see what's underneath-- jagged, torn-up skin.

"Bellissima..." His voice comes out like a bittersweet harmony in my ears, his fingers gliding down the slope of my shoulders. "Don't tell me she got to you. You're the most beautiful woman inside and out."

A frown stays plastered on my face. "But they aren't wrong... I have gained a few pounds. My cheeks are squishier."

Julian grabs my cheeks between his two fingers and leans down to nibble on them. "And biteable. It's one of my favorite features." A sly smirk stretches across his face when his palm grabs a handful of my ass. "Along with your thick ass. Anyone who complains about it is a dead man."

"B-But my thighs... they are disproportionate to my body."

His cobalt eyes nearly bulge from their sockets as he slumps down to his knees, cradling the back of my thighs. "These beautiful creations? God made sure to dedicate his entire life to creating you. Isabela, you're out of this world, and I'm fucking honored to experience you firsthand."

I laugh, but I try to mask it with my palm. "Okay. Okay. Now, get up before someone walks in and catches us."

Julian shakes his head, clutching his head up against my thighs. "No, not until you admit I'm right about you being the most beautiful girl in the universe." Fire simmers on my upper thigh from his palming resting there, inching closer and closer.

I giggle, gnawing at my lip. "J-Julian."

A knot forms in my stomach from the stance of Julian on his knees, kneading my thighs with a fiery passion in his irises. "These sweet thighs..." He damps the seams of his lips with his tongue, hooking his fingers on both sides of my thongs. "I've been dreaming about going down on you since we met. Are you wet for me, baby?"

My throat clogs up from overstimulation. "I-I'm embarrassed to say yes."

"Baby..." His voice lingers as his lips mold kisses against my skin, causing my thighs to tremble. "Nothing makes me happier than knowing how wet I make you... I want you creaming for me, Isabela."

A moan ripples through me when his thumb lightly adds pressure over my clothed clit, alerting an unexpected jolt of nerves. I might fall apart if we go any further, but I can't say no-- I don't want to say no. Julian is the only guy I've ever wanted, and I'm dying to scream his name. But here... in my dressing room?

He pauses an inch away from my clothed sex, glancing up with a smirk. "What do you want, baby? Suck that juicy little cunt of yours? Use your words, Isabela. I need to be sure that you want this."

Nerves explode through my body, numbing my fingertips as I push my thongs aside, exposing my clit to his gaze. A collision of the fresh breeze and his warm breath hover over my sensitive clit.

His eyes rake through my private area. "How the hell did I get so lucky?"

"Touch me..." My voice comes out in a humble plea. "Please, Julian."

My breathing harshens as he smirks, sinking a finger inside me. A fudging, lustful, thick moan escapes my throat as I throw my head back, instantly slamming my palm over my mouth. In a public room. Fudge. I'm getting so reckless, but fudge, it feels remarkable. Is this how fingering is supposed to feel like? I'm starting to understand everyone's obsession with sex.

Julian groans, the sloshy sounds of my juices on his finger as he slowly pulls out and hits the special spot when he slides his finger back in. "Fuck, Isabela. You're so fucking wet. So needy. So desperate for me."

My hips buckle, surrendering to his touch like a firefly following the light at the end of the tunnel. If it weren't for Julian's hold on my thighs, I would've been on the floor as the numbness of my legs senses like jelly. Jesus. I never thought this act could feel this freaking good-- like holy fudge.

"Is it too much for you, baby?" He asks, peering up at me with mischief gleaming in his irises. "Should I stop? Does my baby want me to stop?"

I vigorously shake my head. "No... No... please. I-I need more."

"Fuck," Julian rasps through his clenched jaw, the tick in his jaw showing his internal struggle for control. "You're the hottest woman I've ever laid eyes on."

I love this.

For the first time, I'm just as turned on as the person performing the act. I never thought it would be possible because of my experiences with Dad and Jaxon. Apparently, pleasure is like kissing frogs-- you keep going until you finally find your prince.

Julian lathers my inner thighs with wet, sloppy kisses, dampening them as he curls his fingers, hitting the perfect spot, and I sob out in bliss.

"Isabela!" Damien's commanding voice rings in the hallway, halting us in our quick game of seven minutes in heaven.

My eyes widen with alarm. "Oh, my gosh... do you think he heard my... um-- moan?"

Everything trembles as the height of the ball of pleasure subsides, coating my thighs with my excitement. Why couldn't someone entertain Damien long enough for me to fulfill my needs? Goosebumps pop on my skin as Julian drags the hem of my thong down my legs, and a feral glint flashes in his eyes as he pockets his little triumph.

Fireworks fizzle and pop as Julian grabs my chin, wrecking me with his cobalt irises, swirling into the delicacy of my soul. "Be a good girl for me and open your mouth," Julian orders, and I abide within seconds, letting my mouth fall open. "Taste yourself."

His finger dips into my mouth, my tongue swirling around to see what all the hype is about. I fight to keep my eyes on him, but I want to torment him as much as he's doing to me. So, I don't dare to look away. A mixture of tangy and sweet tastes settles on my tongue. Inch by inch, I pull away, ending our playtime with a simple 'pop' of my lips.

I dab the edge of my lips with my pointer finger. "I bet you wished that was your cock just now."

His eyes darken like a vampire as he reaches under me and grabs my ass with both hands before jerking me closer to him to drop a long, pressing kiss on my lips. Butterflies dance in my stomach with giggly joy, torturing me. I can't let myself fall for antics. I really can't-- it won't end well for me, for us.

"Fucking hell, Isabela!" Damien roar tremors through the hallway. "You better look fucking irresistible for making everyone wait this long."

I roll my eyes. "Duty calls."

Julian's irises soften a smidge. "I'll be by your side through the entire night. He won't get anywhere with you."

Skipping out of the room, I bump directly into a rugged surface, crashing onto my ass. His blonde hair sits in a comb-over as he matches his brother with the same light grey attire. Lorenzo's eyebrows pull together in confusion as he releases a gust of white smoke from his mouth, his eyes shifting to something above my head.

From the tilt of my face, I know he's caught Julian and me alone once again. It's as if he's always waiting for my worst moments to have infinite baggage on me. A sole look of amusement spreads across his face as he shrugs.

My eyes fall to the figure behind Lorenzo-- Damien stomping in burly steps, his nose flaring-- Great way to start a long night.

"Do I have to inject a tracker into you again to get you to finally fucking answer?" Damien complains, swatting the lit cigarette out of Lorenzo's hand. "What are you doing with my Tesoro? She's off-limits, remember?"

Lorenzo snickers, digging through his chest, pulling a carton of cigarettes. "I'm not the one that needs reminding, bambino fratello." He stretches his hand down to me, and I warily drop my hand in his, widening my eyes as he places a kiss on my knuckles as I stand up. "I'll keep an extra close eye on her if I were you."

(Baby brother.)

"Go entertain the fucking pig," Damien snarls like a dog guarding his owner against an outside force. His hand envelopes across my wrist like a tight, suffocating hair tie, and he yanks me down the hallway. "Tesoro, I know you want to look beautiful and all, but you can't keep my grandma waiting."

"Mmm," I hum with nonchalant lace in my voice.

His grip constricts, cutting my circulation. "I'm fucking serious, Isabela. You do anything to fucking embarrass me, and I'll make our night a living hell. Don't try me. One toe out of line, and I swear to God, I'll--."

"You'll what?" Julian hovers over my inferior frame like a guardian angel, his gaze challenging the fiery arson in Damien's. "Watch yourself. I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your family."

Damien scoffs, his eyebrows skyrocketing to his forehead. "Glad to see you live long enough to become someone's bitch. Must've been your dream."

"Why don't you go back to sucking your brother's dick, underboss?" Julian asks, tilting his head to the side.

Damien's nose flares, glaring daggers in Julian's direction. Unease settles in the pit of my stomach. Lately, there hasn't been cool water around us. The murder of my family has definitely become the turning point for all of us-- the main thing is, who will strike first? Damien or us?

Lorenzo drapes his bicep onto Damien's shoulders, moving up to grip his head to give his hair a tussle. "Relax, brother. Let's introduce Isabela to Nonna."

A frog gets wedged in the middle of my throat. Can the night be over already? Being dissected by Damien's family isn't how I would prefer to spend my evening, but do I have a choice? No. No, I don't. Hopefully, there's a lot of wine-- The taste is vile, but buttering my sufferings with wine is the only way I'll survive tonight.

Damien's arm slips across my waist, pushing my body into his as we stride down the hallway. Turning back slightly, I catch Julian's fixation on Damien's grip on me. He looks like he's cultivating a million reasons for how to murder him. A crisp breeze wafts through us, alerting the goosebumps on my skin as we step outside.

There's a gigantic tent in the middle of their yard, light peeking through the opening. A white cloth table long enough for fifty individuals rest in the center adorned with utensils, flowers, and wine. Our wedding court occupied half of the seats at the table.

"Paperotta!" A brittle, high-pitch voice cheers, rushing over in her white suit. Her wrinkly, pale hands grasp Damien's cheeks, imprinting her bright magenta lipstick on his cheeks. "You look skinner and stressed! Is this wedding too much for you to handle? I could had lent a hand."

Damien smiles. "I'm fine. Just watching my weight for the big day... unlike someone else," he mutters under his breath, side-eyeing me as he hugs his grandma.

Over his shoulders, his grandmother locks eyes with me, glistening with flecks of excitement within them. She tosses her grandson to the side like a trash bag, stepping forward and grabbing my hands. It would almost be a decent interaction if it weren't for her eyes frisking my features. When did I stop being human and turned into a bird stuck in a cage?

She clicks her tongue. "Un po' di grasso. Otherwise, extremely beautiful. Isabela, si?"

(A little fat.)

I nod. "Yes-s," I stammer, my pulse racing as Damien gives me the 'don't fudge this up' look. "I've heard so much about you, Mrs. Moltisanti. I think the one person Damien loves more than himself is you."

Damien clenches his jaw.

That sounded nicer in my head.

She scrunches her nose in disapproval. "I hope that's not true. Or why would you want to marry him?"

An uneasy laugh croaks out of my throat. "You know... he's just so... awesome."

One of her eyebrows arches. "Awesome? What is he a fish? Dove avete trovato questa ragazza?"

(Where did you find this girl?)

"Jesus fucking Christ. Who's hungry?" Damien whips through us, yanking me to the corner of the room. His voice drops a level. "Can you be any more fucking stupid? What did I fucking say?"

Against my will, my body subjects itself to a flight or fight response, trembling like a pathetic leaf. "Yeah, I get it, but it's hard to act like I'm head over heels for you when all you do is hit or yell at me."

My eyes trace the wooden pattern of the dance mat as an unexpected gasp slips through my lips when his fingers coil around my neck. "Listen here, bitch. I don't care how or what you have to do to convince my Nonna that you would die without me-- figure it out. Julian won't always be here to save you. Remember that."

He disappears out of my sight, inching towards the dining table.

My pulse pounds in my ears like a gong. Where is the entity that devoured Hanni? How do I make her come out again? Is she going to make me suffer through this my entire life? Terrified of stepping on the landline. Panic flares through my bloodstream at the unexpected clasp on my hand.

The panic washes away with a wave of relief when I calculate the roughness and slenderness of his fingertips. His grip is fleeting, a blink of peace to save me from falling off the edge. Julian has to know how much the little things he does enlighten my body. But I can't always rely on him for everything. It will bite me in the ass one day-- I just know it.

"Are you okay?" Julian whispers, adjusting the earpiece in his ear.

I bob my head. "I want to strip everything he has, Julian. Nothing is off-limits."

Julian tilts his head to the side, acting his part to the tea. "Soon, Bellissima. You will get the enjoyment of seeing him cry. That I swear to you."

My urge for vengeance fuels my body to make it through the night. I'll have to be the perfect submissive wife to conceal my secret agenda every night. All I have to imagine is torturing Damien until he pleads for death.

Julian moves my chair out for me, and once I sink into the cushion, he pushes me toward the table. Julian and Damien sit on opposite sides of me like the angels on my shoulders-- one taunting me to bite back and the other pleading to lie around for now. Lorenzo, Damien's mother, and his grandmother take the seats in front of us.

A server casts a shadow over my glass, tipping the wine bottle to fill my glass. "Signorina?"

Damien blocks the top of my tumbler with his palm, halting the server. "She's gets nothing."

What the heck! I can feel Lorenzo's elated grin heating one of my cheeks and Damien's aggravated glare searing the other. I would've been in a party spirit if I had some alcohol in my bloodstream. Squirming under the attention, I flashed a closed-lipped smile and nods to the server, acting like we were a complete front.

If I complain, Damien will find a way for me to regret it.

Our appetizers arrive in front of us; Crostini, bruschetta, marinated mozzarella, Margherita flatbread, and cheesy pull-apart bread. That's what everyone gets except me. My plate is five green beans. Five!

"How did you guys meet?" Nonna asks, dipping her fingertips in a bowl of water and drying them on a napkin. Damien opens his mouth to speak, but Nonna signals for him to shut-it sign. "I'm asking Isabela. Dear, how did you meet my handsome nipote?"

(Grandson)

My blood runs cold.

She couldn't wait until entrees to put me on the spot?

Heat scorches my cheeks. "That's a funny story." An uneasy train of laughter rolls through me while everyone else remains rigid. "Since I was a little girl, I've always loved reading and would stay in this small bookstore back at home in the city." Words spew out of my mouth like it was typed up as a script. "Always afraid to talk to someone. I would often wish I would find my prince."

Nonna's green irises shine with admiration.

"One day, I was scouring through the shelves for a new story to dig my teeth into, and I couldn't reach it." Everyone is hooked on our fake love story. "Out of nowhere, my honeybun got on his tippy toes to retrieve the book for me."

Lorenzo snorts. "He must've forgotten his insoles if he had to get on his tippy toes."

Damien's lips thinned. I jerk into the air from the spontaneous sharp pain in my right thigh. He digs his fingernails deep into my skin-- I'm surprised he hasn't drawn blood from them yet.

His eyes flash like caution signs. "It was a simple mistake. Beware of Isabela. She's really nervous."

I force a smile. "Totally."

Nonna takes a swing of her wine. "Paperotta, don't be so embarrassed. It's a cute story. That was an easy question." She wipes her thin lips with the napkin. "When did you realize you fell in love with my paperotta?"

My hand curls around the fork, tightening as my little way of screaming as Damien injects his nails further into my skin. Despite the pain, I can't help but sink into the comfort of Julian's fingers nudging closer to mine. Our pinkies entwine underneath the table.

I gnaw at my lip. "When he became my calm during a storm. That's when I realized I couldn't live without him and needed to do whatever it takes to keep him."

Nonna's eyeballs grow a glossy sheen. "True love. That's true love."

A surge of hotness inflames my chest, spreading to my cheeks. Something about that statement feels true-- I want the person I'm in love with to be the rainbow after a spring shower. With this impending marriage, I hope to have my person at the end of the tunnel when everything I'm destined for has been revealed. I know I shouldn't believe in fairytales, especially after everything I endured, but maybe it's one of the only things keeping me together-- an illusion of a happy ending.

Every muscle in my body tenses when Julian fixes his hand on my bare thigh. The sensation of his touch on my skin sends tingles over my body. What is he thinking? Warily, my eyes dart to Damien, casually immense in conversation with his mother and brother. Inch by inch, his hand crawls closer to the desperate spot in the middle.

He knows I want this so fudging badly, but in front of my soon-to-be in-laws? This is the perfect opportunity to get caught like a deer in headlights. Yet I must be out of my mind to not even stop him. His fingers lightly trace circles along the silts of my lips, drenching his finger in my arousal. My heart gallops like a horse in a race, rushing to reach first place.

To toy around with my desire, Julian deliberately pushes one finger in at the pace of a snail crawling-- it's downright cruel. If he's going to fingerbang me at the dinner table, at least drive me off the hill of sanity. Yet, somehow, it feels so good.

I close my eyes and allow myself to relish in the feel of his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. White dots cloud my vision as I fall into the hopeless pit of passion.

"Isabela? Hello? Are you sleeping?"

My eyes shoot open, earning confused looks from the table. "S-Sorry. I'm still pretty jet-lagged. It's hard to adjust to a whole new schedu-." A startled squeak escapes my throat as he dips two fingers between my folds, stretching me wide, causing a shockwave of pleasure to roll through me.

Damien clears his throat, burning the back of my ear with his hot breath. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Can you act right for a second?"

Damien's mother interjects, "Maybe it's a good idea for Isabela to catch up on sleep."

"I would lov-."

"No," he forces through his gritted teeth, swirling the knife around in his fingertips. "She's been asleep all day. How much more sleep does she need?"

I shudder when Julian retreats his fingers within me, only to push them in and repeat the process over and over. Clusters of electricity build in the pit of my stomach, inflating like a balloon with every push and pull of his fingers. My breath harshens. I try to distract myself from the moans begging to crawl out of my throat by playing with the green beans on my plate.

Gosh, it feels so good.

A little noise slips through as a surge of pleasure rocks through me, but I successfully disguise it as a hiccup. I bite my lip, hoping it's enough to keep moans from getting out. Glancing at Julian, engaged in a conversation with Damien's cousin, acting as if he isn't fucking me underneath the table. No one could tell.

Unless they looked at me.

Using my fingers, I rake my hair to cover my flustered cheeks as I reach for the apple juice glass.

Nonna jabs her fork into an Italian meatball, smudging red sauce on her lips. "Damien, you have one job-- to get Isabela pregnant! I'm nearing my end, paperotto. I need five grandbabies before I go."

The apple juice goes down the wrong path, immediately spitting the liquid through my mouth and nostrils. Pregnancy? Over my dead body will I bear a child for this demon. A stiff, severe fist pounds my back to stand for support, but it only makes matters worse. The sweet scent of apples marks my clothing like its territory.

Instantly, I rise from my chair. "I'm so sorry. Please excuse me while I go freshen up."

My heels click when I reach the stone floors in Damien's house, charging to the bathroom on the bottom floor. Locking the door behind me, I drop my palms on the counter and breathe deeply in and out. Damien isn't the only pleasure blocker in his family. How can she bring up the mention of children? Why would she want Damien to be the father of any? Has she meant the a-hole?

My stomach drops at the sound of a knock on the door. "Miss Arias, it's me." Relief rolls through me like a ghost. Julian.

Unbolting the door, Julian slides through the crack, resting against the wooden exit. Ugh. He acts so-- nonchalantly like he wasn't pleasuring me a few minutes earlier. How does he do that? I want to be able to operate the same instead; I feel shy, exposed.

I playfully strike his toned bicep. "We could've got caught out there."

Julian's mouth curls to a slight smirk. "Yet you didn't tell me to stop. Why is that, Isabela?" He treks lightly, cornering me into the wall, tracing circles on my hips. "You like danger. It's okay to admit it. We all get off being on the edge."

My heart jumps. "Please..." A mere whisper, plea, beg exits my lips as I avert my eyes to keep from meeting his. "I never wanted a guy to touch me as badly as you, Mr. Lui. Please, finally let me come."

Julian roughly exhales. "Gladly."

He grabs my cheeks with both hands and slams his mouth to mine. Urge, longing, and hunger are entwined with the kiss as he presses his rigid frame against mine. Gosh, it's only been a few days, but I have craves these lips like a crackhead craves meth. His tongue traces over my lip, seeking entrance, and I willingly open for him, moaning in response. My fingers slide through his raven strands, yanking on them. Groaning, Julian glides his hands under my ass to lift me into the air, plopping me on the counter.

"Fuck Isabela," he grunts, emitting heat through his palms onto my thighs. "Open your legs for me, baby. I want to get a better look at your clit."

Shyly, I widen them, my self-conscious thoughts eating at me as he stays silent. One of Julian's hands skims up, squeezing the tip of my clit, earning a squeal from me. A second flies by in silence until he releases a sudden slap on my clit, evoking a wave of pain and pleasure.

"How bad do you need me? How bad do you want me?" He mutters against my skin, merging a path of kissing, sucking, and nipping on the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, sending me overboard.

A shudder rolls through me. "So bad. I-I need you so bad. Please."

His eyes darken as his finger skims down my clit, the gushy sound coming from my moisture. A deep blush blossoms on my skin like spring flowers when he reveals his pointer finger covered in my liquids.

"Why so wet, baby?" Julian teases. "Is this all for me?"

"Always," I hiccup through my rushed breaths. "It's only yours."

"Mine?" He darkly chuckles, gripping the back of my thighs, pulling me closer to the rim of the counter. "God, I'm so fucking lucky. I can't wait to taste that sweet come of yours, baby."

Excitement bubbles inside. Julian pins me with a feral, dark glare and crashes his warm tongue against my clit with a low vibration from his muffled growl. I moan in surprise, shockwaves of pleasure rolling through me. His stubble grinds against my pussy lips, adding an extra friction I didn't know I needed.

Holy Shitzus.

He's really eating me out while my in-laws wait for me at the dinner table.

I bite my lip to keep myself from making a sound. My eyebrows bunch in despair. The flick of Julian's tongue is enough to fly my body up to the clouds in the sky. I open my mouth, choking on a whimper, arching my back from the sensation. Julian sucks on my lips, flicking his tongue back and forth, swirling and nibbling on it.

All I hear is Julian's satisfied groan, and the muted music as one of his hands wanders toward my opening. I cry out silently as he drills three fingers inside, stretching me beyond belief. Sweat glistens on his forehead as he picks up the pace of his finger and tongue.

"You like that, baby?" His eyes are hooded, heavy with lust. "You like being my dirty little slut? Hmm. Admit it."

My eyes roll back. "Y-Yes. Gosh, yes."

"That's it. Look at how fucking wet you are," Julian groans against my heated flesh. "Be a good girl and take it."

He slides his finger in and out, his mouth following the same rhythm, making it impossible to catch my breath. My insides tighten. I struggle to breathe, gripping his raven strands, pushing him into me.

Julian gets rougher, burying his finger deep inside me. His tongue swirls on a specific spot, causing everything to shake. My head falls back, stars invading my vision as the clusters of nerves pile in my stomach. What is this feeling? My body won't stop tingling, and the sensation from Julian's lips and fingers is making it harder and harder to function.

"Holy Sh-," I choke on a moan.

"What?" Julian laughs, the pulse of his husky laughter sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "Is my baby about to come? Tell me. What's wrong?"

His other hand drops on my stomach, holding me in place as I squirm up and down from the overstimulation. My palm smacks over my lips to keep anyone from hearing us, and it's driving me insane to stay quiet.

"Don't hold back, baby. I want your fiancee to know you're coming on my tongue right now," Julian growls, pushing his three fingers in and out of me. "You're mine, only mine. Don't you ever fucking forget! Mine. All of this for me. Do you understand?" I vigorously nod. "Then cum for me, baby."

Every muscle inside me tenses like I'm about to present a speech in front of my class, my toes curling. My eyes shut tight as I let out a pained scream, moaning helplessly as I ride the wave. My thighs clench, my ears ring, and my heart pulsates in my chest. The tension evaporates in ripples as Julian softens his pace, dragging his fingers from my holes.

"Was it everything you could've imagined?"

Blush blossoms on my cheeks. "I didn't think it could be that good. I think I'm starting to understand why Mika loved having sex so much."

Julian straightens to full length, peering down at me with tenderness in his irises. My stomach flips in a loopy loop. It doesn't feel awkward, but I hoped I wasn't too much. What if my moans sounded like a bear? That's the only thought floating through my brain. That's how I know experiencing my first orgasm with Julian was how it was supposed to go because my body accepted his touch, unlike the successors before him.

The lining of my heart melts like ice cream in the scorching sun when Julian places a deep kiss on my forehead. "I-I should probably get out there-- wouldn't want Damien to have a tantrum. I'll go out first."

His thumb strokes a trail of circles on my cheek. "Wait for me. I'll be out in five."

Julian hides behind the door as I swing it open, revealing an empty bathroom to any stragglers walking by. My hands compress against the walls, acting as my cane as I tread through the hallway. Everything feels like a fresh batch of squishy jello. The moisture between my legs is slightly uncomfortable.

My body trembles at the belligerent slam of the door, nearly breaking it off its hinges. The recoil of Damien's back displays through his tight, white button dress shirt as he exhales, resting on the door. Oh great. I can see a tantrum brewing a mile away. I jump out of my skin at Damien's close proximity. I hadn't seen him walk over.

He narrows his eyes. "Why do you have to be so difficult, Isabela? All I wanted was a nice dinner with my family, but you always have a way of fucking everything up! You're going to be my wife. Start acting like it."

I scoff. "Fuck you."

His eyes widen with madness as he charges like a predator, backing me to the corner. "What did you say to me?"

I grit my teeth. "I. Said. Fuck. You."

Damien squishes my cheeks in his grip, thrashing my teeth together as he thumps the back of my head against the wall. "You stupid bitch! How dare you talk back to me! Your Prince Charming isn't here to save you." Wrath overpowers his actions, causing him to pull out his gun and align with my mouth.

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Stop the bullshit. Trust me, there's nothing else I want more than for you to kill me, but you won't. I'm too precious to you."

Damien's lips curl in disdain. "There are a lot of things you love in this world, Isabela. I wouldn't hesitate to take them away."

Gathering a wad of spit in my mouth, I launch it toward Damien's eye, hitting the bullseye. "Fuck you! I have nothing left. You made sure of that. There's no point in being scared of you."

Damien sighs, loosening his grip around my chin, and wipes the spit from his eyes. My pulse sprints at the speed of a deer on a highway. He bobs his head, straightening the jewelry on his fingers. His lips thin.

Whack.

My face swings to the left from the force.

Whack.

Another messes with my ability to stand, sending me to the floor on my knees. Pain simmer in my nostril and lip area. Drops of blood land on the white stone floors-- Deep, dark, bloody red, a concerning shade.

Damien wipes the blood on his fingers on his handkerchief, stuffing it into his chest pocket as he strides to the door. "I had enough of you. Stay in your bedroom. I'll tell them you aren't feeling good."

He slams the door shut, vibrating the house with his intensity.

A click of a door sounds in the distance, followed by a rushing of steps. "Isabela?"

I sigh, smiling through the pain. "Yes."

He drops to his knees, clutching my cheek in his palm as concern floods those blue irises. "Baby... you're bleeding. I-I should've come out first. He wouldn't dare touch you if I were here with you."

My hand drops over his, fitting between the grooves of his fingers. "It's okay. I'm okay. His punches are getting weaker. Comes with age."

My nerve hums with a building rage as I fixate on the closed door, the lies he's spewing to his family as I'm bleeding on the floor. How dare he keep a squeaky clean image? Damien deserves to burn in hell and be hated by everyone.

Julian's face twists with pain. "Let's get you clean up, baby."

Infuriation possesses my body, using me like a host. If he thinks he can get away with hitting me in front of his grandma-- he's wrong. Detached, I storm across the room, blocking Julian's words from registering as I pry the door open.

Everyone's eyes follow my every move as I swallow my frustration, sitting lady-like in my chair.

Blowing out a weighted breath, I stab my fork into the green bean on my plate. "Sorry for taking so long. I got a little more than I bargained for."

A gasp releases from Nonna's mouth as she rises from her chair. "Oh, Dio. P-paperotto... How?"

Damien laughs uneasily. "Nonna, it's not what it looks like..."

Rolling my eyes, I steal Julian's tall glass of wine, slipping on the bitter liquid. "I'm really excited to hear what you can come up with."

I want nothing more than to get a dinner and a show.

🤭🤭🤭🔥🔥Isabela screams queen energy!! I just love how she can flip the switch whenever she feels powerful💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️...

I hope you guys don't mind how long this chapter was😂 I didn't intend for it to be this long but I hope it keeps you entertained for the entire time...

Now, what was your fav part 👀👀

Do you see Damien and Isabela children in the future 👀? 🤮🤮

Can't wait to chat in the comments and I can't say enough how much I appreciate your support and all the love you give me ❤️❤️❤️💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️

Love ya