"Go on, put the damn G-string and bra on. Or should I wear them on you myself?" Vito said cold and calm, like a man giving instructions to a servant, not the trembling girl standing naked before him.
Ortensia froze, her arms crossed over her chest, one hand angled low, desperately trying to hide whatever dignity she had left. Her cheeks burned, and knees weak like glass. She couldn't believeshe was standing naked in front of Vito, stripped of everything. And now he wanted her to wear that black scrap of lace, as if she were dressing for his hunger.
Her throat clenched. "Please..." she whispered, her voice cracked and small. "Please don't make me."
He didn't blink, no softness, and no mercy. "Remove your hands," he said, stepping closer. "I want to see how wonderful they are."
She backe
