Page 26 of Bound in Ruin

I realize now that he treats his daughters like mere property, bargaining chips to serve his own financial and political ends. It’s pathetic.

Massimo cuts his gaze sharply to me, the dark anger swirling in his eyes completely unhidden.

The fact that he has the audacity to look at me like that—especially in public, under my own roof—is laughable.

But I’ll forgive his ignorance for the duration of this conversation. He only knows me from formal business circles and high-level negotiations, where I kept my cards close and put on a calm, agreeable posture to get what I wanted. He doesn’t really know who I am when the gloves come off.

He has a lot of re-introduction and learning to do. Starting today.

I pull Rosalia a fraction closer into my hip, standing tall, and wait in dead silence for him to open his mouth.

"Hello, Mr. Kane," Massimo says to me, his voice clipped and entirely devoid of warmth.

Before I can even respond, he snaps his gaze back to Rosalia, completely dismissing me.

"What is the meaning of this secret wedding?" he barks, his tone sharp enough to draw blood. "You robbed me of my right to make a proper political statement out of this union. I expected a public display, not a covert courtroom exchange like some disgraced transaction. You always get things wrong, Rosalia.”

What. The. Fuck!

If it’s even possible, Rosalia stiffens even more in my grip, her entire frame locking up like ice.

I’m starting to think this bastard is the very reason she has been so damn nervous all day. Is it really because of her father? I need to know every painful detail.

As Massimo opens his mouth to continue his tirade, I clear my throat, the low sound cutting through his authority like a blade.

"Massimo..." I say smoothly, not bothering with the formality of calling him Mr. Caruso.

He freezes, looking back at me, but I keep my tone dead cold. "You are speaking to my wife. I don't give a damn how you spoke to her before, but you will not talk to her like that anymore."

His face reddens instantly, his jaw working as if he's about to breathe actual fire. But I couldn't care less about his temper.

He glares at me, his fists clenching at his sides. "A secret wedding wasn't the arrangement, Dominic."

"The arrangement was sealed the moment you handed her over," I remind him, stepping slightly in front of Rosalia. "You all but sold Rosalia to me. What Rosalia and I choose to do after that fact is none of your fucking business."

I’m about to go batshit crazy on this bastard, so I know it’s time to leave.

I give him a tight, dismissive nod. "Now, excuse us, Massimo. We have guests to greet. Make yourself comfortable—but don't get comfortable enough to disrespect my wife under my roof."

Without waiting for a response, I turn Rosalia away from him. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a brief glimpse of her sisters smiling in quiet satisfaction as we walk off, but I don't really care about them. All I care about is the woman pressed against my side and how she feels.

This protective instinct, this absolute urge to shield her, is entirely new to me. For a split second, it almost scares me.

Before I have time to dissect whatever the hell is happening to me, Rosalia looks up into my face.

"Thank you," she whispers softly.

Looking down into her eyes right now—seeing the genuine, vulnerable gratitude shining in those beautiful orbs—I almost lose my fucking mind. A strange tightness grips my chest, and I have to clear my throat just to keep my composure.

"We have a photoshoot tomorrow for the wedding magazine announcement," I say, forcing my voice to stay even.

She nods quietly, agreeing without an argument for once.

I let out a soft sigh, tightening my grip on her waist just a fraction. "Come on. I'd like you to meet my council, and then you can go join your sisters again."

This time, she gives me a small, genuine smile.

And goddamn... it makes me feel like I just hung the fucking moon.