Chapter 39: "Beat it!"

POV: Stefano

My eyes haven't left her body since the moment Beatrice left that table, satisfied. The bitter taste of defeat went down my throat, not so much because of my ego as because of the consequences of Beatrice's victory.

I've never been one to back down from agreements, but all I wanted to do at that moment was ignore my principles. Across the room, with Paola by my side and my hands around her waist, her mouth uttered some bad things about the girl. All I could do was chase her with my gaze, regardless of how strange I thought it was, especially when my veins popped when I saw one of my guests approach and bump into Beatrice.

I knew exactly what was going to happen next. Beatrice exhaled confusion, and it didn't take long for things to get out of hand. My arms pulled away from Paola as I asked her to go and talk to other guests away from there to avoid any more problems or any questioning from Paola, while my feet took me to where she was.

I couldn't hold back a brief smile as I saw her kick you, as insolent as she always was, despite the anger that burned in my body at the sight of any other man approaching her and, even more so, trying to punish her. I wasn't lying when I said that the only person in this place who would make her turn purple would be me, in the dirtiest possible sense.

"Beat it! I'm in charge here, and I'll sort it out." I screamed, my hands going from his wrist to his chest, pushing him away from Beatrice against the wall, just like he did to her, barely measuring the force I exerted, although it's not respectful to hurt him. "Touch her again, and you won't get out of here alive, even if it costs me a war." I warn him, low but angry, grabbing the collar of his blouse and preventing the girl behind me from hearing what I'm saying.

"Sorry, Don." He asked, backing away, even though there was still anger, ego and the desire to kill her all over him, unlike me, who wanted to punch him until he lost consciousness.

I let him go for once before I went crazy, and he walked away. I followed his body with my gaze for some distance until I could face Beatrice again, who still looks a little frightened. She has slightly red marks on her palms, and in her eyes there is still a trace of disbelief that she was saved when it seemed impossible, but Beatrice stands firm, looking at me with a mixture of gratitude in her eyes. 

She had never looked at me like that, and I subconsciously wanted to freeze time so that it would never change, but I was still the don of the Cosa Nostra; I was still Stefano Salvatore, and there was no getting away from it. Beatrice would have hated me anyway. I can feel the tension in the air as we watch each other, the silence broken only by the distant whispers of the guests who dare not approach or pay attention.

"Thank you." She said it almost in a whisper, smiling in a corner as she observed me beyond my physique, being forced to give in for a brief moment, or perhaps she wanted to give in, it was difficult to decipher her completely.

"My family can't suffer because of you." I lied, my tone weaker against her face, letting my proximity to her body release all the anger built up in me. "You're going back to the mansion immediately, together with me." I said, but it came out almost as a plea rather than an order. What is this woman doing to me?

"The night isn't over yet, I have no reason to go back. I beat you to it, Don Salvatore." In her voice, still a little proud of having won and even teasing thanks to my words, A bigger smile is dawning on her face as Beatrice continues her speech. "I can take care of myself, no need to worry. Whatever you want, I'm not going back to the mansion," she finishes, even though her voice carries nothing of authority but rather provocation, thinking that I would have to accept it anyway.

Her alcoholic breath tells me that she's already had a few shots of the stuff, as she passes me just as the live singer starts to sing another song. I should accept it, but I wouldn't. Beatrice was even more dangerous when she believed she had freedom, and I didn't know how much I could take since she wasn't mine yet, as our agreement was still four months old.

I followed her as she continued to walk faster and faster. Her body seemed to be altered by the lack of food, but not enough to be out of control. On the contrary, she just seemed braver. 

She tried to get up on stage, perhaps to ask for a song, making me wonder what she was thinking when she considered this possibility. I took a firm hold of her arm and she was immediately pulled back, allowing me to put her on my shoulders. I carried her towards the door of the mansion, feeling her arms around me and hearing her desperate pleas for me to let her go. I only dared to let her go when I was sure she wouldn't be able to get back inside.

Her body slid in front of me, and, in that instant, we were very close, my eyes fixed on hers, making her understand that I wasn't going to let her go. Her red lips were intact even when she touched her glasses with them. I wanted to blurry them, I wanted to devour Beatrice right there.

"That was enough, Beatrice! You're coming with me, and there's no room for argument!" That's all I did, raising my voice and strength, making it clear that she could do no more than annoy me if she tried to disobey.

She looked away and stepped back, obeying my order, although she didn't agree to anything. Her hips moved in front of me. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to look away and return to the main hall, but I couldn't, especially when I saw her walking along the edge of the pool, her fingers touching the water and the straps of her dress. What was Beatrice doing this time?