“Eat,” he commanded, gesturing to the elaborate spread of food on the table.
“I’m not hungry.”
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes travelling the dip of my breasts, and a slow smirk played on his lips. “I wasn’t asking, Dolcezza.”
He waited until I was halfway through the food. My fork scraped against the plate, and I could feel his eyes on me. The silence was suffocating, but I refused to look at him. Not until he cleared his throat.
It stopped just short of my plate.
He slid the file I was eyeing earlier towards me.
I froze, my stomach twisting into knots. I hated that file. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it carried nothing but pain—contracts, threats, ultimatums. My fingers trembled as I reached for it, the words ‘Agreement of Conduct’ stamped boldly on the front.
“What is this?” I could already feel that this was another prison sentence for me.
He leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee leisurely. “Rules,” he said simply. “Rules you’ll follow as my wife.”
I snapped the file shut and pushed it away. “I’m not your puppet.”
“No, you’re my wife,” he replied, visibly not liking what I just did. “And as my wife, I expect three things from you: obedience, loyalty, and respect. Fail to give me any of those, and you will face the consequences.”
I clenched my fists under the table. “Consequences?” I hissed. “What are you going to do? Lock me up? Hurt me?”
He chuckled darkly, which made the hair on my neck stand on end. “Locking you up wouldn’t be necessary. But if you test me…” His stormy eyes locked onto mine, and I momentarily ceased breathing. “You won’t like the result.”
My teeth ground together. What did he think of himself? “You can’t control me like this.”
He leaned forward this time, and the scar on his fucking face gleamed. His voice dropped dangerously. “But I already do.”
The file remained on the table between us. My chest heaved with the effort of suppressing the scream clawing at my throat.
“Read it,” he commanded. “And don’t waste my time.”
My fingers trembled as I opened it, dread pooling in my stomach. The text stared back at me, bold, black, and damning. I scanned the first line, and my chest tightened with every line.
I felt my stomach twist as bile rose to my throat. The words blurred as my hands trembled. He was insane. A monster.
“You’ve read enough.” His voice startled me.
I looked up to see him looking at me. He was calm, too calm, and that terrified me more than any display of anger.
“This is…” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard and tried again. “This is ridiculous.”
“Is it?” he asked, crossing his arms across his chest and widening his legs. “It’s what I call necessary.”
“Necessary?” I muttered. “This is slavery, not a marriage.”
Anger burned hot in my chest, but fear shadowed it, cooling the flames before they could fully ignite. I couldn’t let him win, couldn’t let him see how deeply he rattled me. “And what if I don’t obey?”
His smirk disappeared, replaced by a deadly calm. “Then I’ll ensure you regret it.”
My fingers itched to crumple the paper, to throw it back in his face, but the weight of his gaze pinned me down. I pushed the file back toward him. “I won’t sign it,” I kept my voice firm. “You can’t take my basic human rights.”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t react. That was somehow worse.
Instead, he shrugged as if he expected it. I watched as he slowly pushed back the chair, and the sound scraped against my chest. My head tilted back as I watched him standing up. He looked larger than life, standing there, unbuttoning the buttons of his navy blazer and draping it elegantly over the back of the chair. “Brave words, but bravery has its limits.” He uncuffed his cuffs and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt, exposing the veiny and muscular tattooed forearms. I swallowed hard as his stormy greys collided with mine. “Congratulations, you just earned your first punishment.”
My stomach twisted at his words, and in terror, I pushed back my chair and stood on my shaky legs. “What… are you talking about?”
