Breaking Midnight (Il Paradosso Series Book One)

Chapter thirty-eight

I tried to hit him again and winced at the firmness of his grip around my wrist when he caught onto it, midair. We stood in front of each other for a hauling moment, without speaking, until I was backed up against the wall.

I wanted to punch him. Kick him. I wanted his touch, his kiss. I wanted to scream at him. Curse his very existence.

I needed to escape this nightmare.

"You're a fucking murderer," I stuttered through spurts of breath, "you shot him in cold blood."

My heart was thumping wildly, threatening to escape the cavity of my chest.

His grip strained around my wrist. “I kill to protect what’s mine and destroy anything that threatens the safety of my family. I don’t regret blowing that fucker’s brains to the floor.”

I pushed against his abdomen. It felt like a fucking brick. I failed to ease his grip.

"Let go of me," I seethed but I knew from the determination in his eyes that it wasn't going to happen any time soon. "Why would you do this to me?"

I broke in to hard sobs. I couldn’t understand why I was crying. I wasn’t afraid of this man anymore. Perhaps it was my knowledge that Jimmy was still behind bars. I was safe from him, at least for a while longer.

I would feel his wrath, sooner or later. That was the truth that I forced myself to refuse.

"He was sending you death threats, Adriana. Posing as your deadbeat father," Antonio replied without blinking, "and you hid them from me, thinking that I wouldn't find out."

"You're one to talk, when you tell me nothing! You go around doing whatnot, leaving me in the fucking dark!" I shot back, afraid that the quiver in my voice would be deceiving.

"He could have killed you!" His fingers raked across the dark lines on my neck, his jaw tightening with anger.

"What the fuck do you care? Even if he did, it wouldn’t make any difference to you!"

I pushed against him again. I was losing my mind. I wanted to find the reasoning to all of this but I came out blank.

The minty mix of apple cider from his body wash was enticing, causing stirs in the pit of my stomach.

“None of this makes sense,” I whimpered. My body went limp and he grabbed my chin, lifting it up so I was looking at him again.

His eyes remained fixated, holding me where he wanted and I found myself lost in a resolution between both wanting him to leave and pulling him in closer.

Maybe Daniel had been right. Maybe I was just as equally fucked up as he was. I was sick for still wanting him to take me into his arms. Care for me. Love me.

I had to get out. A stir of conflicting emotions made me feel sick and I wanted to run but couldn't seem to move. My legs were paralyzed, and I was bewitched into a trance.

His mouth made the decision for me when it clasped over mine, and his hands wandered over my body freely, with no restriction―as if he owned it.

Tears mixed with the taste of his soft lips, melting the ice pick that had lodged inside my throat.

Please, God, make me understand. Help me find the reasoning to this insanity.

Pain collided with pleasure when his head dipped and the heat of his mouth caressed my ear. His fingers slid into my hair, tugging it lightly at the back of my neck.

“I would kill any motherfucker that puts his hands on you.” He was breathing so roughly that my body strained against his, when he pressed me further into the wall. Anger resonated off of his chest, sweat beginning to form at the base of my stomach, enwrapping me in the feeling of yearning and desperation as he held me close.