Chapter Two
The dance.
The speeches.
The cake.
More dancing.
All of it was now over, and the men hollered at Giovanni to take her, to claim her. The men who’d drunk too much and too freely called for him to pop her cherry. To fuck her.
Valentina wasn’t a fool. She had learned what sex was. Her mother had made sure she understood what was required of her tonight.
No one stopped them as they approached their bedroom for the night. As per tradition, they had to stay at her father’s home.
This was where he’d take her virginity, bloody the sheets, and then, tomorrow, the men would see. They’d all know she was no longer … pure.
She didn’t hold any value in her virginity. That was between the men. Their requirement for certain business deals. It was archaic, and she hated it.
But staring at the bed with the pristine white sheets, the reality of what was about to happen came crashing down on her. She wanted to run away screaming, and the strangest thing of all, a part of her was curious.
At twenty-one years old, she’d never experienced sex. Never had a loving hand guide her.
Even when she was engaged to Leonardo, the only contact they shared was a chaste brush of the lips. Nothing else.
No touching.
No caressing.
Certainly no sex.
Did it make her a bad person to be curious about it?
Giovanni closed the door, and all the calls and whistles went silent. She had no doubt some men were outside that door, probably waiting to hear her scream. There was a sickness within their world.
He placed his hands on her shoulders, and Valentina was surprised. There was no fear. Nothing.
When anyone else touched her, she always felt uncomfortable. The urge to scream was so close, always there, almost beckoning to spill out. With Giovanni, there was nothing.
She tilted her head back and looked at him, a little … taken aback.
“What are you thinking?”
That was the second time he’d asked her.
This man was an enigma. Why did he want to know what she was constantly thinking? Did he care? Was that it?
It couldn’t possibly be true.
He pressed his face against her neck, and she settled back against him as his hands moved, wrapping around her waist.
“It’s good to get away from them,” she said.
“Don’t listen to them.”
“Why not?”
“They’re drunk and this is our night.”