Genevieve didn't bother trying to decrypt the two word reply she got. "So you are Adrian Viktor Visconti, and you called me Mrs Visconti. Does that mean I am... your wife?"
"No, it means that you are now his mom. And you are my wife."
Genevieve's heart sank, and a wave of disappointment washed over her from head to toe. Because the reply to her question didn't come from the breathtakingly gorgeous man in front of her, but from behind her. She turned to see who it was.
And there, standing just a few metres away from her, was an old man with shrewd eyes and a head of completely gray hair, who, though he looked like he was well on his way to the grave, also bore an uncanny resemblance in physique and facial structure to Adrian Viktor Viskonti.
Here, she was standing between her new husband and stepson. Both of them much older than she was.
"I'm dead," she breathed. Not only was she bought by a terrifying man who came from a formidable family she would find it hard to carry out her plan in, it was also an old man she would be losing her virginity to instead of the younger and handsome son.
The reality of the situation weighed on her so much that she reeled, staggered backwards, and didn't try holding herself up as she slipped into unconsciousness and slumped.
Adrian reached out to catch her just before her body touched the ground, lifting her slowly while examining her pale face. He had expected this from the moment she opened her eyes after he killed the foolish bald man that had put his hand on her earlier, but this delicate girl whose spotless body showed that she had had a smooth life since birth, instead challenged him for some minutes before regaining her fear.
If she hadn't ended up fainting now, he would have been suspicious she wasn't who he thought she was.
Pulling her against his chest and wrapping his arms around her, Adrian's eyes lifted from Genevieve to his father's annoyed face, his lips curling into an evil smirk.
''What's that look on your face for, Don Visconti? You seem displeased,'' he asked, his sarcastic tone making it obvious that he didn't actually need a reply to his question.
''Isn't that to be expected, Adrian? You have my woman in your arms, and you expect me to be all smiley face with you?''
The smirk on Adrian's face dropped, his hands tightening subconsciously around the unconscious Genevieve.
''Your woman…'' he scoffed. ''For a man who has been hung up on his late wife for more than two decades since she died, Father, I refuse to believe the same you is capable of falling in love with a girl younger than your own daughter in mere minutes, such that you are already addressing her as your woman so soon.''
''What can I say?'' Roberto Visconti shrugged indifferently, ignoring the bite of his son's words. ''The girl in your arms is pretty enough to make young monks not think twice in claiming her, not to talk of an old man like me in search of young blood."
''You're sure it's cause she's pretty?" Adrian brows raised, "And not because you knew I came here for her and wanted to get her for myself?''
Roberto laughed out loud, his voice echoing in the empty hall.
''And why would I do that, Son?''
''To anger me, probably,'' Adrian deadpanned.
''How funny,'' Roberto's voice was laced with sarcasm. ''I know my son. Simple things like your father taking something you like isn't enough to get you angry or even tick you emotionally.'' he paused, his hand going to his face in a dramatic movement, ''Don't tell me you care about this one that much.''
''I don't,'' Adrian replied calmly. ''I just need you to know that if you take something I have eyes on next time; whether I like the object or not, you will pay for it.''
Roberto was taken aback by the sudden switch in tone, causing him to clear his throat nervously. He wasn't scared of his son. He was one of the few people on this earth priviledged to know that the ruthless underboss of the Visconti family wouldn't hurt them even if they played a prank like this on him, but that didn't mean he wasn't scared of his son's payback method.
''You don't have to take this so serious, Son. I went backstage to pay for the girl while she was still being introduced to everyone out here. Plus, no one would have thought you wanted the girl, seeing as you killed the auctioneer that was introducing her before the bid was even done—''
Adrian cut his father off, ''Are you taking your woman from me or not, Don? I am a young man with needs, and she is a 'pretty' woman clinging onto me.''
"But you wouldn't do anything like what you're insinuating," Roberto said firmly, "You are my loyal son, Adrian." Knowing his son wouldn't prolong the conversation with him, he flicked his hand for a group of dark clothed men to rush onto the podium. One of them stepped forward and gave Adrian a deferential nod, before turning to Roberto.
"Don," he bent his head slightly.
''Place a call home for the late mistress' room to be prepared for use," Roberto instructed.
The shock on the guards' faces when he gave the order was unmistakable, but they were quick to compose themselves in order to save their heads.
Roberto continued, ''The woman in my son's hand will be the new owner from tonight going forward. Take her from him and leave. We will be home later."
''Yes, Don,'' the guards chorused in reply.