Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 236

Gianna's POV

I burst out onto the beach, the sand soft beneath my feet.

The view was out of this world, endless blue water meeting endless blue sky, the sun warm on my skin.

I spun around to take it all in, laughing with pure joy.

Dante emerged from the path seconds later. He had ditched his sunglasses somewhere, and his hair was disheveled from the wind and my fingers earlier.

He looked desperate and absolutely devastating.

"Stay right there."

I cupped my hand around my ear, taking another step backward. "What? I can't hear you!"

"Oh, you heard me."

I waved my hand in mock surrender, then grinned wickedly. "Oops, I didn't!"

Then I ran.

I sprinted down the beach, sand flying behind me, my laughter mixing with the sound of the waves. I heard him behind me, gaining fast, and the thrill of it sent electricity through my veins.

His hand caught my arm, spinning me around, but I twisted away, stumbling but staying upright. I darted to the side, but he anticipated it, cutting me off with ease.

"Dante!" I shrieked, trying to dodge past him, my heart racing.

He caught me around the waist, lifting me clean off my feet. I squealed, kicking and laughing as he spun us both around.

"Got you," he growled against my ear, his breath hot on my skin.

"That's not fair, you're faster."

"Should've thought of that before you ran." He hitched me higher against him, and I could feel every hard inch of him pressed against my back, thick and demanding. "Now you're going to pay."

A whimper escaped my throat at the dark promise in his words, but I wasn't ready to surrender yet.

My elbow drove back into his stomach, not hard enough to truly hurt him, but firm enough to make him grunt and loosen his grip. I twisted free, landing on my feet and taking off again.

"Gianna!" His voice was half-laugh, half-growl. "How dare you."

I glanced back over my shoulder, grinning wickedly even as I ran. "All's fair in love and war!"

"War it is, then," he called, and I heard the moment his feet hit the sand in pursuit.

My heart pounded as I veered off the beach, back toward the path, my breath coming in gasps that were equal parts exertion and exhilaration. The tropical plants blurred past me as I ran, dodging around flowering bushes and under low-hanging palm fronds.

Behind me, I heard him curse, creative, filthy Italian words that I didn't need a translation for, followed by a thud and another string of profanity.

I risked another glance back and nearly stopped in my tracks. He had caught his foot on something, stumbling, his hand braced against a tree trunk as he regained his balance.

"You're going to regret that, pretty doll," he shouted, his voice rough with frustration and arousal. "When I get my hands on you."

"You have to catch me first!" I called back, breathless with laughter.

"Oh, I will." The promise in his voice sent shivers down my spine. "And when I do."

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