Bound To The Wrong Sister

[ IRIS’S POV ] The Russo estate was a labyrinth of cold marble and echoing silence, but tonight, it felt like a tomb. The air felt different. Not when two powerful families are in the estate at the moment. To form an alliance that would be sealed in blood. I lay in the comfort of my bed.  My mind went back to the event that had played in the gala. I could still feel his touch on my hand. After the brush with his skin at the gala. The room felt too small, the air thin.  I needed to breathe, but more Importantly I needed to hide.  So I left.  Away from the party. Away from people’s gazes.  How much I hate parties. Hate being in the same space with a lot of people. I slipped out of my bedroom, my bare feet silent on the hallway marble floor. I made my way to the library, the only space in the house that didn’t feel like a stage set for a mafia play.  It was a two-story sanctuary of mahogany shelves and a comforting scent of old papers. I didn’t turn on the light. The moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows was enough to guide me to my favorite book. I sank into the velvet armchair, pulling my knees to my chest. “You smell of jasmine and rebellion,” His voice still lived in my ears, a low frequency that made my pulse jump every time I closed my eyes. Do I like it? yes. Salvatore Moretti was supposed to be my brother-in-law. He was supposed to be the man who secured our family's future.  He wasn’t supposed to look at me like I was the only person in the room full of royalty. I reached into the pocket of my silk robe and pulled out a small, silver locket. I had found it on my pillow three months ago. No note. No card. Just delicate pieces of jewelry with a single petal pressed inside.  It was my favorite flower. A detail I had never told anyone, not even Sofia. “Do you like it ?” The voice didn’t come from the hallway. It came from the shadow behind the desk, deep and smooth like an expensive bourbon. I bolted upright, my heart leaping into my throat,” Who’s there?” I asked, clutching the locket tightly to my chest. The shadow detached itself from the darkness.  Salvatore. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket anymore. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeve rolled up to reveal a forearm corded with muscles and marked by the dark ink of tattoos I couldn’t quite decipher in the dark. I hated tattoos, hated how they looked on people. But to him it looked beautiful. So much that I could run my lips on it all day and bathe it with my tongue. He looked less like a businessman now and more like a killer everyone whispered he was. “You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered, my voice trembling.“ This is my father’s private study. If he finds you” “Then he will do what? He asked moving closer to me,” I would like to know what your father would do to me. Especially… when he finds me running my fingers over his precious little daughter. I shifted back and he walked slowly to me.  “Taking her raw in his private study…” he emphasizes the study just enough to make me know he doesn’t give a fuck about what my father thought or thinks. I take a step away from him. I watched as his muscles flexed under the casual clothes he wore.  The way his lips move.  And God. How would it truly feel to have it all over my body? The devil’s lips. “Your father is currently drunk on his vintage, celebrating a deal he thinks he won,” Salvatore said, stepping into the silver of moonlight. “Think he won?” Aren’t you here to sign a deal with my father to stop the war and take Sofia as the medal?” He didn’t reply but instead. His eyes were fixed on the locket in my hand. “And Sofia is dreaming of a wedding that would have been what she expects. He continued. He takes another step towards me, his gait slow and predatory. I should have run. I should have screamed. But my legs felt like jelly. Gummed to the floor by the sheer weight of his presence. “The locket,” I said, my voice gaining strength,” you sent this?” “Took you long enough to know.Iris.” His eyes moved to the locket then back to me. “I sent all of them,” he said, stopping just an inch from me. He was so tall that I had to crane my neck to look at him. He smelled of sandalwood, expensive tobacco, and something dark, like the woods after a storm.” The books. The Lilies on your birthday. The vintage camera you found on your doorstep when you turned eighteen.” My breath hitched.”That was you? For five years …. I thought I had a guardian angel. Or a ghost.” “I am no angel,  little mouse,” he growled, reaching out. I flinched, and he smirked. At first, I thought he would be angry, and lash out at me.  My father always said men like Salvatore should be giving whatever they want. Obey their every command. But he’s not angry.  Instead, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His fingers were warm, his touch surprisingly gentle which made it even more terrifying.  “And I am more dangerous than a ghost. A ghost can’t touch. Can’t keep what belongs to him,” he said. “But me, I will not only touch you, I will spread you apart and ruin you in every way possible, so that you won’t have a choice but to come back for more.” he continued. “I did not belong to you, I never did. And I never would. I hissed, though the way my body leaned into his touch betrayed me. “You’re to be engaged to my sister tomorrow, and the papers will be signed tomorrow.” Salvatore laughed, a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down my spine. ”I signed a piece of paper to get into the walls. To be close enough to finally reach out and take what I’ve been watching from a distance for five long years.  Five years? What the hell did he mean by five years? “And oh! If you keep saying you did not belong to me, I will have no option but to bend you over a desk here to show you who you belong to. Should we put that in text?  Mamasita?”