The billionaire taboos bride

Rihanna's POV

The second slap landed before I could react.

My head snapped to the side, the sharp impact sending a sting across my cheek. I slowly turned my face back and wiped the blood at the corner of my lips with the back of my hand.

"You shameless little monster," my father said, his face red with anger, his fists shaking. "He is my brother! He calls your dear grandfather father! How dare you even open your mouth to me?"

"He was adopted, Father," I replied calmly, even though my heart was pounding inside my chest. I looked him straight in the eyes and lifted my chin. "Grandpa only adopted him because you don't have what it takes to lead the empire, and everybody in this city knows it."

"You arrogant bitch!"

My father raised his hand again, his palm coming toward my face. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the blow.

But it never came.

Instead, I heard a sickening crunch, followed by my father's sharp gasp of pain.

I slowly opened my eyes.

Ted stood in front of him.

He held my father's wrist in a grip so tight that the skin had turned white. Dressed in a perfectly fitted charcoal three piece suit, Ted looked completely calm. His dark eyes held no anger, no surprise, nothing at all. Somehow, that made him even more terrifying.

"Uncle Ted..." His name slipped from my lips before I could stop myself, barely more than a whisper.

Ted didn't look at me. His eyes remained fixed on my trembling father as his fingers tightened around the older man's wrist, forcing another groan from him.

"Where was this courage when he was hitting you?" Ted asked me, his voice cold and sharp. "You speak to me like a queen, yet you allow a coward to treat you like a dog."

"Ted... let go of me!" my father choked out, sweat running down his face. "How dare you..."

"Mind your tone with me, brother," Ted said quietly before releasing his wrist with a disgusted look.

My father stumbled backward, clutching his injured arm.

"You don't want to cross me. You know what it will cost you."

"Wait until Father hears about this!" my father hissed, retreating toward the desk. His confidence had completely disappeared. "Wait until he finds out you're trying to seduce his granddaughter!"

Ted let out a low laugh.

Then he finally turned to look at me. His eyes moved over my flushed cheeks, the torn lace at my shoulder, and the blood on my lips.

The air between us suddenly felt different. Heavy and uncomfortable, as if we were both standing too close to something we shouldn't touch.

"He won't hear a word," Ted said softly. He took a step toward my father but kept his eyes on me. "Because if I have to speak to the old man, I might tell him things you'd rather keep buried. Things like the hitmen you sent after me five years ago in Milan."

My father went silent.

His mouth closed, and all the color drained from his face.

Ted turned back to me. He reached out and gently held the side of my neck, his thumb brushing the blood from my lip. His touch was firm, and I found myself holding my breath.

It was completely inappropriate for a man I was supposed to call family, yet I couldn't bring myself to pull away.

"Go to the car, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes briefly dropping to my lips before meeting my gaze again. "The grown ups are talking."

The door didn't close completely behind me.

Instead of walking down the hallway to the driveway, I pressed my back against the wall outside the study and held my breath. My heart pounded as I leaned closer to the door, listening.

"You think you can play God just because the old man gave you a seat at the table?" my father's voice rang out, shaking with anger and desperation. "She's my daughter, Ted! She carries my blood!"

"And yet she has more courage in her little finger than you've had in your entire pathetic life," Ted replied.

His voice was low, but every word carried a warning.

"Let me make something clear. Touch her again, and I won't just take your seat on the board. I'll destroy every company, every account, and every foundation you've spent twenty years hiding behind."

"You... you wouldn't," my father stammered. I heard papers rustling as he moved away. "Father would never allow you to take everything from me."

"Father is old, and he knows who keeps this family standing," Ted replied calmly. The sound of his lighter clicking broke the silence. "You sent men to put a bullet in my head in Milan because you knew I was coming for what belongs to you. Now I'm taking it. Starting with her."

"She's your niece!" my father spat.

"She's the old man's granddaughter, and we both know there isn't a single drop of shared blood between us," Ted replied. "You gave up your right to protect her the moment you raised your hand against her. From this moment on, she belongs to me. Try to stop me, and I'll make sure Milan becomes the least of your problems."

Footsteps approached the door.

I quickly hurried down the corridor, trying to keep my heels from making too much noise. I slipped through the massive double doors and stepped into the cool night air.

A black Maybach was waiting at the bottom of the steps, its engine running. The driver stood beside it, waiting patiently.

A moment later, the front doors opened, and Ted walked out.

He adjusted his cuff links, his expression completely unreadable, as if he hadn't just threatened to destroy my father.

The moment he reached the bottom of the steps, I forgot about behaving properly. I forgot the driver was watching.

I rushed toward him and threw my arms around his neck, burying my face against his shoulder.

The faint scent of his expensive perfume filled my nose, and for a moment, the mess inside my head seemed to settle.

His body stiffened for a second before his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his chest.

"I told you to go to the car," he murmured against my hair, but his arms didn't loosen.

"I didn't want to leave you," I whispered, gripping the fabric of his jacket.

He opened the rear door and guided me inside before sliding in beside me.

The door closed.

As the car pulled away from the estate, Ted shifted closer and drew me against his side. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body beside mine.

"You heard us, didn't you?" he asked, his voice low near my ear.

I didn't bother lying.

"Every word."

"Then you understand how dangerous this is." His fingers gently traced my jaw, brushing the sore skin where my father had slapped me. "You know what people will say if they find out about us. They'll call it a scandal. They'll say I corrupted you."

"Let them talk." I lifted my head to look at him. "I don't care about the city. I don't care about my father. I only care about you."

A faint smile touched his lips, but there was something dangerous about it.

"You're playing with fire, little girl."

"Then let me burn," I whispered.

Ted didn't answer.

Instead, his hand moved from my neck to my knee, resting there as my skirt shifted slightly. His thumb brushed against my skin, sending a shiver through me.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing my temple.

"You're mine now. You understand that, right? There's no going back after tonight."

"I don't want to go back," I whispered, placing my hand over his.

The car began winding down the narrow mountain road leading away from the family estate. Rain had started falling harder, making the road slippery.

Then Ted's eyes suddenly shifted toward the front of the car.

His hand stopped moving.

The driver kept pressing the brake pedal, but the car didn't slow down.

The engine roared as we picked up speed, rushing down the steep road toward a sharp turn overlooking the cliff.

"Sir..." The driver's panicked voice came through the intercom. "The brakes... they're not responding!"

Ted didn't flinch.

His eyes narrowed as the car continued speeding through the dark, rain soaked night.

"Press it to the floor!" Ted ordered sharply.

"I am, sir! The line's been cut. The brakes are completely gone!"