Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 158

Dante's POV

Selene had completely lost it.

I felt nothing but disgust crawling up my spine. When Gianna so much as breathed near me, I was hard in seconds. But this? This was like having a stranger assault me.

I grabbed her hips, trying to lift her off, but she locked her legs around the chair, using her weight to keep herself pinned to me.

“Get off me.” The coldness in my voice could have frozen hell itself.

“No.” She ground down harder, her hands moving to my shirt, trying to unbutton it. “Just let yourself feel it. Let yourself want me. I know you do. Deep down, you must.”

“I feel nothing.” The words came out brutal. “You’re doing nothing for me, Selene. Nothing.”

“Liar.” She was sobbing now, still moving against me, still grinding. “You’re hard. I can feel it.”

“This is pathetic.” I grabbed both her wrists, holding them away from my body. “Look at yourself. Get a grip.”

“I don’t care!” She fought against my hold. “I don’t care what I look like! I just want you to feel something!”

“I feel disgusted.” My voice dropped low. “My body belongs to Gianna. And if you don’t stop this madness, I’ll have my men drag you out. And if they have to do it with you naked, so be it.”

Her hips stopped moving. Every muscle in her body went still.

She looked down at me, mascara running down her face in black rivers, her body still naked, still pressed against me.

And despite the anger and disgust, I felt sorry for her.

She was broken. Had been for a long time. And I never saw it. Never knew how deep this went. How many years she’s been carrying this. How much she was willing to destroy herself for me.

I never knew how far she’d go. But knowing doesn’t change anything. I don’t want her. I never wanted her. And nothing she does will ever change that.

Her body went limp, exhausted from fighting me, from fighting herself. The sobs came harder now, her whole body shaking with them.

I lifted her off me carefully, setting her on her feet. She swayed, then collapsed to the floor, sobbing.

I stood there, watching her fall apart, feeling the weight of her pain even as I knew there was nothing I could do to fix it. She needed professional help. But that wasn’t something I could force on her tonight.

I picked up my jacket from where she’d dropped it earlier.

“Bruno will take you to your room.”

I draped it over her shoulders, covering her as best I could. “Sleep this off. And tomorrow, we’ll talk.”

She didn’t respond, just curled into herself, crying.

I turned toward the door, needing to get out, needing to get back to Gianna.

My whole body belongs to Gianna. My heart. My soul. Everything.

She was the only one who could pull feelings out of me, the only one who made me feel alive. Everything else was just going through the motions.

I stepped into the hallway and nearly collided with Bruno.

He was breathing hard, his weapon still drawn.

“Don, we found nothing. Everyone was checked. Every car searched. Perimeter is clear. No signs of forced entry anywhere.”

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaustion creeping in. “I found the intruder.”

Bruno’s eyes went wide. Shock first, then fury. “Who the fuck is it? Where are they?”

His hand went to his weapon, ready to fight.

“It was Selene.”

Bruno went completely still. “What?”

“She broke into my office. Drunk. Naked. She…” The words stuck in my throat, refusing to come out.

What in…?

My mind scrambled to make sense of it. An attack? Here? In my own room?

Then I saw her.

My eyes found Gianna. She was standing in the middle of the room, her chest heaving, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were wild, hurt, furious.

The sight of those tears did something terrible to my chest, like someone had reached inside and squeezed my heart until it couldn’t beat properly.

“Gianna… what’s…”

Before I could finish, she grabbed another glass from the dresser and hurled it at my head.

I ducked, the glass shattering against the doorframe. Adrenaline pumped through my system, mixing with confusion and the first stirrings of anger.

I started toward her, needing to understand, needing to stop whatever this was. “Gianna…”

Her hand closed around a champagne glass on the nightstand.

“Gianna.” My voice came out raw.

An attempt to stop whatever this was.

“I swear to God. If you dare throw that,

I’ll make you wish you hadn’t. Because you’re mine now, and I don’t tolerate this kind of disrespect.”

Her hand trembled. For one second, fear flashed across her face, and I thought she’d drop it.

Then defiance blazed in her tear-filled eyes, and my heart sank.

“Fuck you!” The words tore out of her throat, broken and raw, as she launched the glass at my head.