Chapter 7 Cristiano

• "Fuck Marianna, what is this?" I ask scanning her back. It's filled with angry welts that have started turning purple. The kind you get from a whip or a belt. And they weren't there yesterday when I saw her because she was wearing a backless dress. It's not something anyone could miss. Who could have done this to her?
• "None of your damn business," she says defensively as her hands hold the torn T-shirt to her front.
• "Did someone do this to you? Tell me who they are and I'll put a bullet between their eyes" I snarl, running my fingers over the marks lightly. She flinches but doesn't make a sound "Who was it?" I growl because I'm pissed. I can't believe anyone would hurt her like that. She's Marianna fucking Lombardi. All you have to do is look at her to know how spoiled she is. She showed up at my doorstep with her bodyguard and two women as if we were still in the 18th century where women took maids everywhere they went. There is no way she let anyone hurt her like this without fighting back. She spins around, gracing me with the front view. Although covered, there's still a lot to admire. Have I mentioned how great her tits are?