Page 30 of The Don's Secret Heir

She throws up her hands. “You’re the one who said we get to live our own lives. This is me, Dario, living my life.”

“Well you can’t kiss someone like that. Not in public. You’re my wife now,” I say flatly, trying to rationalize it to myself.

“And what about in private?”

I go silent. I don’t want anyone else touching her, not for an instant, but I can’t say that. I can’t say that because it’s crazy that I still can’t stand the idea of her being with someone else.

“Come on. We’re going home.”

“Like hell we are,” she huffs. “I’m going to go to a bar and find somebodyelsewho might?—”

“No, you won’t,” I growl, thinking about her small hand in his, how she’d tilted her chin up when he leaned down to kiss her.

I’m fucking angry and I can’t help it. She whirls around and heads toward her car. I draw in a sharp breath and scoop her up, throwing her over one shoulder and taking her back to my car.

She kicks and screams and beats on my back but I can’t even feel it, I’m so pissed off. How dare she do this? How dare she come waltzing back into my lifeneedingme, and then try to go on a date with someone else?

I’m not the one at fault here.

I get her into the passenger seat but it’s like getting a honey badger into a cage—difficult and barely worth it.

She finally goes still when I get into the driver’s side, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the window.

The rage inside me doesn’t seem to abate.

“Who the fuck was that guy?”

“I told you his name already. Don’t you dare try to find him. You’ve done enough.”

“Like hell I have. You were going to let him kiss you? On a first date?”

“On our first date I sucked your?—”

“Don’t,” I bark, letting off the gas when I glance down at the speedometer and realize I’m going thirty miles over the speed limit. “This isn’t the same.”

“Isn’t it? Since when do you get to tell me what I can and can’t do on a first date? You don’t even know me anymore.”

“And whose fault is that?”

She thins her lips in a hard line and looks out the window again, pulling out her phone and texting angrily. I peered over her shoulder, trying tro see who she’s texting, but she blocks me with one hand covering the screen.

I shut my mouth before I say something worse, before I spill out how fucking awful it was to find out she was pregnant, to find out she was with someone else.

It was Giovanni who told me.

“Boss?”

I was sitting behind my desk at the office, on my third drink of the night. It was barely six in the evening, but who cared?

Nothing mattered anymore, anyway. Liana wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t take my calls, had her father escort me away from her house.

She didn't want me anymore. Hell, maybe she never did. All because of something I’d done. Something she wouldn’t tell me. I hadn’t seen her face in six months.

“What?” I barked, and Giovanni winced, sitting down across from my desk.

“Pour me a drink.”

I raised an eyebrow. Giovanni had always been a teetotaler because his father was an alcoholic.