Chapter 3: Marry Santino Selvaggio

Soraya immediately turned around and ran back toward the room she had come from. She didn’t care where she was going anymore. She only wanted to get away from the terrifying scene she had just witnessed.

She had barely reached the door when it suddenly opened from the other side.

Soraya stopped so abruptly that she nearly stumbled backward.

Santino stood in front of her.

Her face was drained of color.

"I—I am sorry," she blurted out, staring at him in fear. "I was drunk last night. I didn’t mean anything I said. I swear, the alcohol completely ruined my judgment. Please don’t shoot me."

She stood completely rigid, barely even remembering to breathe. She couldn’t take her eyes off the gun that was no longer in his hand but was still fresh in her mind.

Santino stared at her for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him.

Soraya’s heart skipped a beat.

She had been too frightened to notice it downstairs, but now that he was standing so close, she realized just how charming his smile was. There was something dangerously attractive about the way his expression softened when he laughed.

’Gosh! What am I even thinking?’

She immediately scolded herself and looked away.

Santino walked past her as though her frantic apology hadn’t concerned him at all. He entered the room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Why would I shoot you?" he asked casually.

Soraya slowly turned toward him.

Santino leaned back slightly before adding, "No one has ever kissed me before."

Her brows knitted together in confusion.

She nervously twisted her fingers together, unsure how she was supposed to respond to that.

"I—I am truly sorry," she said again. "It was a drunken mistake. I wasn’t in my right mind."

She hesitated before gathering enough courage to ask the question that had been bothering her ever since she woke up.

Then she turned fully toward him.

"We—we didn’t sleep together, did we?" Her voice became quieter. "You don’t look like the kind of man who would take advantage of a drunk woman."

Santino didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he reached for the buttons of his shirt and slowly began undoing them.

Soraya’s eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

She immediately took a step backward, her expression turning suspicious.

Santino continued without saying anything.

"I am not that kind of woman!" Soraya quickly declared, pointing at herself as though she needed to make the distinction absolutely clear. "Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not who I am."

Her face flushed with embarrassment and panic as she watched him.

"I made one stupid mistake because I was drunk. That doesn’t mean you can misunderstand me."

Santino stopped midway through unbuttoning his shirt and pulled the collar down slightly, exposing the side of his neck.

"You bit me here," he said calmly, pointing toward the faint mark on his skin. "Look at the love bite you left behind. And you kept telling me that I was yours."

Soraya’s throat went completely dry.

She stared at the mark, then at him, her eyes widening as another fragment of the previous night returned to her. She couldn’t even bring herself to blink.

"You’re lying," she finally whispered.

"I don’t lie," Santino replied without hesitation.

He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. He held it out to her.

"You gave me this last night."

Soraya immediately walked over and snatched the paper from his hand. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded it.

The moment she saw the words, her stomach dropped.

She recognized the handwriting instantly. It was hers.

’I will marry Santino Selvaggio.’

Soraya stared at the sentence in disbelief.

"No..."

She looked at the paper again, hoping that somehow she had misread it. But the handwriting was unmistakably hers, and there was no denying what she had written.

Before she could say anything else, Santino stood up.

He was so close that the tips of his shoes nearly touched her bare feet.

Soraya slowly lifted her head.

She hadn’t realized just how tall he was until now. Standing directly in front of him, her face barely reached his chest.

The same chest she vaguely remembered grabbing the night before.

Her cheeks immediately heated, so she quickly looked away.

"You gave me this last night," Santino said, his deep voice pulling her attention back to him. "And I’m willing to marry you, Soraya Dalias."

Soraya’s eyes widened.

"I—I don’t want to marry you."

She immediately took a step backward, clutching the paper tightly in her hand. "I don’t even remember writing this. I was drunk, Santino. Whatever I said or did last night shouldn’t be taken seriously."

She glanced at him cautiously before adding, "Besides, you seem to be a gangster, and I hate violence."

For a moment, Santino simply stared at her.

Then a slow smile appeared on his face.

Soraya frowned. His reaction confused her more than his proposal had.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked suspiciously.

Santino’s smile only widened, as though her answer had amused him.

"You’re the first woman I’ve met who has rejected my marriage proposal because she thinks I’m a gangster."

"Why? Aren’t you?" Soraya arched her eyebrows, refusing to back down.

"I don’t kill innocent people," Santino replied calmly.

Before Soraya could respond, his rough fingers caught her chin. He tilted her face upward, forcing her to meet his eyes. The sudden closeness made her tense, especially when she realized how easily he could overpower her if he wanted to.

"We’re getting married tomorrow, Soraya," he said. "So why don’t you wash up? After that, we’ll go find your wedding dress."

Soraya stared at him as though he had lost his mind.

"I told you, I don’t want to marry you."

She immediately grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from her face. Taking a step back, she created some distance between them.

"I need to leave. And..." She hesitated, still confused by everything that had happened. "Thank you for helping me last night."

"You’re not going anywhere." Santino’s voice stopped her. "I already told you," he continued, his expression completely serious. "We’re getting married."

Soraya stared at him in disbelief.

"I never agreed to that."

"You did last night."

"I was drunk!"

"And yet," Santino replied with a faint smile, "you were very clear about wanting to marry me."

Soraya’s jaw dropped.

"You shouldn’t have kissed me. I have fallen for you, Soraya," Santino pronounced.