ella

gowns and pulled out a sleek, ivory silk dress. Then, his large hand re

st, my cheeks burning with a volatile mix of rage and humiliation. "You don't have permission to t

terrifyingly blank. "Permission is irrelevant, principessa(princess)," he stated, his voice a dark, unyielding

bounced off his solid frame. He merely set the clothes on the edge of the mattress

to regain some semblance of control. The contract said outside the bedroom, he was my soldier

er," I ordered,

lence stretching until it felt dangerous. Then, he bent down. A flicker of triumph igni

his thick neck to keep from falling. He scooped up the heels with two fingers of his free hand and strode toward the

of the New York City Marriage Bureau, my heart hammered against my ribs. Before Damien could

veled, his aristocratic face pale with panic. "Bella!" he shouted, rushing toward me as I stepped ont

The sight of him no longer brought butterflies, only a sickening wave

tion making him reckless. He reached out, his

n. Damien moved with the lethal speed of a striking viper.

mmanded. The sheer, murderous intent in

" he choked out. Then, his gaze snapped back to Damien, confusion morphing

's mistress be calling my bodyguard? A col

with Falcone arrogance. "A common Soldier thinks

t belongs to a Falcone is destined for ashes," Damien said softly, the promise of violence vibr

aced a heavy, possessive hand on the small of my back, and g