94| Mrs. Russo.
ROSALINDAThis material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.
“Rosalinda, get out of my view!” Papa groaned, intense fury and darkness seeping through his tone. I refused to move, refused to be intimidated by the pure darkness that clouded the depths of his eyes. Two of the most important people in my life were threatening each other’s lives, and leaving them to continue wasn’t even an option. I was determined to stop them. “I. Said. Move.” Papa groaned, but I stood my ground. “Drop. Your. Guns.” I retorted firmly. My disobedience and my nerve seemed to infuriate him further as his jaw clenched tighter than it already was, but I didn’t care. Their lives mattered the most. “For God’s sake!” Mama suddenly yelled, banging the table with her palm as she sprung to her feet. Her furious eyes darted between Antonio and Papa. “There’s a child here!” Realisation hit Antonio, and he promptly darted his gaze at Carlo. Seeing the fear in his eyes, he sighed and withdrew his gun. Without uttering a word, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me along with him. I didn’t protest. He took a brief pause in front of Carlo long enough to carry him in one arm before going ahead to drag me out of the room with the other hand, not giving me the chance to say goodbye to my family. And to be honest, I didn’t want that chance because the longer he and Papa stayed in the same vicinity, the more fueled their rage would become and the more they’d be compelled to drill a bullet through each other’s skull. That was the last thing I wanted. The drive to Antonio’s mansion was silent. An uncomfortable silence. I had a lot to say to him about what happened back there, but I decided to wait until we got home and when Carlo wasn’t there. He had heard and seen enough for the night. I glanced at my son in the back seat, and an ache throbbed in my chest.
He looked so calm, as if he hadn’t just witnessed the dreadful interaction between his father and grandfather. He was getting used to the frequent violence that surrounded him, and that bit at my heart. No child was supposed to get used to violence. Once we got home and I was in the bedroom alone with him, I finally broke the ice. “What date do you have in mind for the wedding?” I asked. “It’s up to you.” He simply replied as he walked further into the room, pulling his shirt off without bothering to look at me. He was still visibly enraged, but I knew it wasn’t at me. It was the lingering effect of the heated confrontation he had with Papa. After pulling off everything on him, rendering him naked, he entered the bathroom, and I followed suit. Leaning on the bathroom wall and folding my arms over my chest as I watched him, I persisted. “Why?” He finally turned to look at me, his eyes meeting mine since we left my family house, “because it’s your wedding, Rosalinda. You should decide when you want it.” My heart pattered to an uneven beat as the littlest chill ran up my spine, his words taking me by surprise. I had never been allowed to make decisions for myself. Everything I had ever done in every stage of my life had always been decided for me. This was new. He turned on the shower, and as I watched a full stream of water cascade down his body, my arousal surfaced. That man was fucking sexy, and every day he gave me a new reason to be attracted to him. A new reason to love him. Without thinking twice, I pulled off my clothes, our eyes never leaving each other as I stepped into the shower with him. “I was terrified today.” I said, as I traced my fingers along his chest. “Please don’t ever do that again. Make peace with my Papa.” A flicker of anger flamed in his eyes as he groaned. “Now it’s my fault, uh? He fucking came at me first.” “I know. But-” I sighed, trailing off. I quickly quirked my lips up in a smile, not wanting to rile him up any further. “Let’s forget about it. I’m sorry for bringing it up. Just know that there’s nothing Papa could do to take me away from you. My heart is with you, and you alone.” I wrapped my palm around his cock, and I watched the anger burning beneath his eyes slowly fade off, replaced by lust as he roughly grabbed my neck and crashed his lips on mine. I responded, wrapping my arms around his neck, our bare skin pressing against each other as water cascaded down our bodies. “I love you.” I breathed, my heart swelling with desire. “I’d make it worth it.” He grabbed my waist, swiftly spun me around, and pushed me to the wall. Before I could process my thoughts, his steel rod had already filled me up, pumping inside me in rapid succession. “You are mine!” He growled. My moan was loud, forming a melodic tune with the water splashing over our bodies. “Say it!” He rasped. “Say you are mine.” “I am yours.” I said submissively, with all my heart. “Louder!” He groaned. “I am yours, Antonio Russo.” I moaned, giving him the satisfaction. He wrapped his hand around my neck, and his pumps became faster. “Good, Mrs. Russo.” “But I’m not-” He didn’t allow me to complete the sentence as he covered my mouth with his palm, preventing me from speaking. “Shhhhh. You’ll be soon.” His pumps slowed, each thrust pushing deeper, reaching the places I wanted them to. “If it’s up to me, we’ll have our wedding tomorrow.” He added. I swung my head to the back to look at him. “Tomorrow?” “It’s up to you. Decide whenever you want to get married. I’m not pushing. Married or not, you are mine. We don’t have to register on a fucking paper for you to be.” “I am yours.” I affirmed with a moan, basking in every pleasure he was administering to me. Not a word was mentioned after that. We made love in the shower. Again and again. Coming each time, unable to get enough of each other. When we finally finished, he wrapped a towel around me with care, and he gently carried me in his arms as he walked out of the bathroom. Stepping into the room, he stopped in his tracks when a woman laying naked on the bed came into view. “Rebecca!” He exclaimed, his tone thick with surprise. “What are you doing here?” Anger rose up within me, vibrating beneath my skin as I immediately jumped out of his arms. “Who the fuck is she?!” I demanded, my blood boiling with fury.