Scorned Obsession (Scorned Fate)

I startled awake to see the SUV driving down a narrow road…no, a driveway surrounded by trees. An involuntary yawn escaped while I straightened in my seat, casting Sandro a glance. “How long was I asleep?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

I couldn’t believe I fell asleep like that. But for two days I’d been keeping vigil over Renz. Afraid he’d take a turn for the worst. Afraid that they would separate us. It was the kind of sleep where I wasn’t sure if I was unconscious or awake, like I’d been hopped up on caffeine, where my mind was awake and my body was jittery. At the wedding ceremony, adrenaline fueled my every move, and now I wanted to crash and sleep for a year.

“You were out of it,” Sandro added.

“Where are we?”

“One of my properties.”

That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for, but I was too exhausted to argue. I needed my wits about me when I was sparring with Sandro. I took in the area. We were outside the city for sure.

Before Sandro pulled into the garage, I made out a modest colonial-style house with shutters and siding. Gray metal cabinets lined the garage and there was a covered vehicle in the corner. It was too wide to be a motorcycle, too small to be another car. Maybe an ATV.

“I’ll come get you.”

Before I could say anything, Sandro had already exited the SUV. Stubbornly, I shoved my door open. He caught it before it hit his face and glared at me like I’d done the most childish thing.

“You’re not carrying me over the threshold.” I slid down from my seat and planted my feet on the ground. “Let’s not take this farce too far. Lead the way.”

“Smart-ass.”

“You love my smart mouth.”

All I heard was an exasperated sigh, but he just had to have the last word by putting his hand on my lower back. He pushed open the door leading into the house, but before I went through, he held me back and whispered in my ear, “And the things I can do to it.”

Shocked because that was the first time he’d reciprocated any of my baits with sexual innuendo, I refused to budge another step.

I turned to him at the same time he crowded me into the house. “What game are you playing at?” The question came out in a croaked whisper, but I was blaming it on my lack of sleep.

He clasped my shoulders so we were face to face. “You’re my wife now.”

The way he said my wife was like a switch and the expression I saw on his face was nothing like the gentle possessiveness I’d daydreamed about. No, this was fierce in its intensity, like a brand of total ownership.

“I thought…”

“You have no idea.”

He guided me further into the house as if hurrying us along. “Aren’t you going to show me around?” I asked sarcastically.

“Later. There’s shit I have to do.”

“Really?” We were going up the staircase when I said, “On our wedding night? Oh, I forgot, the family comes first, not your wife.”

When we arrived at the top, Sandro caged me against the wall.

A startled yelp escaped me, and I glared at him. “Sandro, what the hell?”

He pressed his body against mine, surprising me, my eyes going wide. Initially, I ignored how our bodies had smashed up in the kitchen, but there was no way to ignore this now. Tension and heat rolled off him. His fingers dug into my shoulders, but I was too caught up staring at the raw feralness etched on his features.

“Are you saying you want me to fuck you?”

My mouth fell open. Sandro was a series of out-of-character shocks this evening. Forget sexual innuendos, the crudeness with how he said those words unsettled me. Who was this man? This stranger? But what he said pissed me off. “Why are you doing this?”

“There’s no halfway, little girl. I’m trying to give you space. To get used to the idea of being my wife, but if you insist on running that mouth and taunting me… Like I said earlier, I can think of a better use for it.”

“Are you saying this is going to be real?”

His face inched closer, his mouth a millimeter from mine. “Let’s find out.”

“I…” My gaze swept downwards. Once upon a time I would have seized his jaw and kissed him. But my fury from the last few days, this forced marriage that obliterated my childhood dreams, and, most of all, the image of Renz’s bloodied chest, sent a repulsive wave of nausea up my throat.

“No, thanks.”

Sandro reeled back, and a wariness stole the determination from his face.

That’s right, Sandro Rossi. I’m forever over you.

“What? Am I supposed to be grateful you married me?”

“I saved you from marrying Gian.”

My hatred slightly abated. “I’m thankful for that. But let’s not make this marriage sound like it’s what either of us wanted. Or even pretend it’s normal.”

He studied my face, but I refused to look away. His jaw hardened, and finally, he stepped back and I lost the heat of his body. He walked down the hallway. “I’ll show you to your room.”

My room. Not ours. Was it too soon to feel relief?

We stopped in front of a door. “This is yours.” He pointed to the room on the left.

He regarded me thoughtfully. “We’ve known each other a long time, and it’s not the first time we’ve slept together but⁠—”

“That’s different!” I snapped. “And it wasn’t on a bed.” It was usually on his sleeper sofa when we were doing movie marathons.

“But,” he repeated. “We’re both going to get a good night’s sleep.” He raked a hand down his face, frustration evident in his expression. Well, I was only getting started. I would make him so frustrated he would beg my family to take me back.

“I’m sure we both need it and then we’re going to discuss what the fuck we’re doing,” he said.

“Sounds good to me.”

He checked his phone. “That’s Tommy. Your dad and Nico are at the hospital and are with Renz.”

I didn’t realize how bogged down I was with Renz’s condition. It was as if it had entombed my entire being in a quicksand of anxiety and I had finally taken my first step out. I exhumed that anxiety with a ragged exhale, but fresh worries soon crept into its place. “When can I talk to my family?”

“It’ll be a while.”

“Is this the three weeks your uncle is talking about?”

He gave a brief nod.

“Some kind of indoctrination into the Rossi crime family?”

“No,” Sandro said. “He wants to see Cesar De Lucci squirm.”

I couldn’t even understand his vendetta against Dad. “He’s sick.”

Sandro shrugged. “It’s the sadistic disease in the Rossi blood.”

I thought about his brother and the rumors about Frankie’s cruelty to his wife and the prostitutes he used. Despite my current situation, I felt the need to say, “You’re not like that, Sandro.”

He smiled faintly. “Hold that thought.”

I never feared Sandro when it was just the two of us, but those two days when he was surrounded by Rossis? It was as if he was a different person and that they controlled him.

We continued staring at each other. Finally, he cleared his throat, thumbed his nose, and walked to the closet. “There are clothes here you can use. We’ll get you some more. Can you eat? I can send the guys to get something.”

My mind was in priority mode, and my whole body was trying to survive. Sleep. Then food. I should’ve been starving because I’d barely eaten anything, but even the thought of chewing felt like a chore. I guzzled a can of Coke on our way here and I needed to pee.

I shook my head and checked the closet, too tired to ask if Griselda picked the clothes for me or even drill Sandro about our unfinished conversation in the car about her. But when I peered inside, the contents of the closet surprised me.

These clothes were in my style.

My eyes fell on the carved box on a skinny accessory tower inside the closet. “What’s this doing here? I don’t want it.”

His mouth tightened. “I wanted something familiar in this room for you.”

“You think it’s going to comfort me?” I picked up the box to hand it back, but Sandro’s hands wrapped around mine.

“Keep it for now.” His voice was gruff. “Please.”

A pleading I hadn’t seen in his eyes before made me reconsider. Its rawness cut a slit through the wall of my anger.

“Fine.”

“We’ll talk about the situation tomorrow.”

“Oh, you bet we will,” I retorted, setting the box down. “We’ll have some ground rules too if we’re going to be stuck in this house together.”

“You’re not a prisoner here, Bianca.”

“I don’t have a phone. I can’t talk to my family. I can’t leave.”

“Consider me your family now.”

Bitterness wrapped itself around my heart at how twisted and wrong those words sounded to me when I’d wanted to hear them for so long.

The irony didn’t escape me, and my lack of response only led to an uncomfortable silence between us. The silence stung with palpable hurt. Mine was mixed with anger. Sandro’s… I tried not to read too much into the flash of regret that broke his mask. He’d schooled his features again. But Sandro had been rejected all his life and I was doing it to him now.

He raked his bottom lips and broke our stalemate. “Do you need help getting out of that wedding dress?”

Heat flushed my cheeks. I hadn’t thought about taking this monstrosity off me. “There are faux buttons in the back, but it’s really a zipper. Er, you can help me with the top zip.”

I turned my back to him, and I felt him come up behind me.

“Who helped you with this?” he whispered near my ear.

“No one. I was quite the contortionist.”

The sound of the zipper lowering sent an awkward chill through my veins. I stepped away. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m briefing the guys on the security around the property. It’ll take me fifteen minutes at most. I’ll be in the room across from you if you need anything. There’s no lock outside this door. And there’s bottled water right there.”

Sandro retreated and closed the door. He used to send goose bumps of exhilaration through my veins whenever he was close, but I wondered if this last act of fuckery had finally broken my obsession with him.

Or maybe I was just overwhelmed from the past three days.

I picked a sleep shirt from the top shelf of the closet and headed to the bathroom. I looked a fright. My makeup had run through and mascara lines tracked down my cheeks, reminding me of a corpse bride. I felt like a corpse. A drug store cleanser sat by the sink. I had sensitive skin, but vanity was the last thing on my mind. I scrubbed my face until it was makeup-free. I didn’t look any better. My eyes were puffy and bloodshot and the dark circles under them looked like I hadn’t gotten rid of the smeared mascara.

My head needed to find a pillow, so I stepped out of my wedding gown and donned the sleep shirt. I eyed the box sitting on the accessory tower and, as if hypnotized, lifted the lid. I picked up the silver cuff and stared at it. It was probably the wrong thing to do if my objective was to excise Sandro from my heart. But I was desperate to cling to something that made me happy long before things became complicated between Sandro and me. When I was simply a girl with a harmless childhood crush.

I got on the bed and crawled under the covers, holding up the cuff against the moonlight streaming through the window.

I remembered that day Sandro had given it to me.

He’s not here.

I had been looking out the window of my parents’ row house overlooking Tenth Street. It was my twelfth birthday and Mom assured me she invited Sandro.

“Bianca,” Mom called from behind me. Her hand clasped my shoulder. “It’s rude to ignore your guests.”

“I’m waiting for Sandro.”

Mom gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know, sweetie, but you also know his time is not his own.” Ever since he turned eighteen, their crime family kept him occupied. I hardly saw him anymore.

She coaxed me away from the window and back to the festivities.

The first person who noticed us come into the dining room was Matteo. “Smurfette, where were you?”

“Stop calling me that, especially in front of my classmates. I’m twelve.”

He shot me an irritating grin.

“Matteo,” Mom admonished.

“Okay, baby sister.” He hugged my shoulder, but then whispered in my ear, “But just for today.”

I punched his side.

“Ouch,” he said dramatically.

“Stop being a wimp,” I returned. “Your fan club is here.”

Almost every single girl in my all-girl class was here because half of them had a crush on Matteo. The other half had a crush on either Nico or Renz. It was irritating as hell.

It was another thirty minutes of me socializing and craning my neck to the entrance of the dining room before I saw him.

Sandro walked in, looking hot and handsome in black. Beside him was his current girlfriend, a blonde named Holly. She was better than Griselda, who was always dismissive of me. I was glad Griselda dumped him. Holly was nice to me. I rushed to greet them. On my way, Nico rolled his eyes, but I ignored him.

“Happy birthday, Sunlight,” Sandro said. I noticed the bruising under his right eye and a cut lip. It wasn’t there when I saw him two weeks ago. It reminded me of the first time I found him hiding behind the stairs at one of the family parties. But I knew he didn’t want me pointing it out, especially not in front of Holly and my family.

He was here. That was all that mattered. Even if he brought Holly.

He handed me a gift. A small box wrapped in craft paper and baker’s twine. I hurriedly unwrapped it and gave a delighted squeal when I saw the gorgeous silver cuff I’d been eyeing at a Brooklyn store. “How did you know?”

He glanced briefly over my shoulder and I followed his gaze to Mom. “I had help.”

I stared at the silver cuff again and then at the smiling Sandro. Frankly, his barely there smiles were the ones that set my heart racing the most.

The rest of the room diminished to Sandro and me.

I was marrying him one day.