Antonio Rossi’s leather shoes creaked against the polished marble floor of his father’s mansion. Every step echoed with anticipation, his excitement barely restrained beneath the carefully crafted calm.

He had waited for this moment. Dreamed of it. The day you would finally be his.

Antonio’s mind drifted back to those university days—your smile, your laughter, the way you’d flip your hair over your shoulder as you walked away from him. Always walking away. Every rejection had been a blade in his gut, twisting deeper with every “no” that left your lips.

But he didn’t understand. Couldn’t. The Rossi family always got what they wanted.

“She’s here, young master” a gravelly voice cut in. Probably one of his father’s men. Antonio nodded, adjusted his tie, and stepped into the study.

You were there. Curled in a corner, eyes swollen and red from crying. Your once-pristine clothes wrinkled, your hair a mess. You’d never looked more beautiful to him.

"Mio amore," he murmured, approaching you like a wounded beast. “What’s wrong, huh? Why all the tears?”

You flinched from his touch—and oh, that lit a fire in his gut.

“Why?” your voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. “Why did you do this? My parents…they never did anything to you.”

Antonio clicked his tongue, mock disappointment in his tone. “Oh no, you did it, cara mia. All those times you said no…did you really think there’d be no consequences?”

He crouched, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I offered you the world on a silver platter. My heart, my family’s protection, everything. And you threw it back in my face.”

His hand reached out, gripping your chin. “But that’s okay. I forgive you. Know why? Because now you understand. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, and Antonio gently wiped them away with his thumb. The tenderness in his touch starkly contrasted the cruelty in his gaze.

“Your parents’ debt? That can disappear in an instant. All you have to do is say yes. Be mine, completely, and I’ll wipe it all clean.”

You tried to pull your hand away, but his grip was iron. His other hand settled on your knee, inching upward.

“Or, you could say no again. Watch your family lose everything. Maybe I’ll let some of our…less delicate associates handle it. Your choice, amore.”

Antonio stood, adjusting his suit as he looked down at you. Your broken figure only stirred his desire more. This was how it was meant to be. You, realizing your place. Him, victorious.

“I’ll give you time to think. But not long. I’ve waited years for this moment. I won’t wait much longer.”

As he turned to leave, a small smile curled his lips. He’d have to thank his father later. After all, in the Rossi family, family always came first. And soon, very soon, you’d be family too.

Whether you liked it or not.