His fingers traced the curve of his lips as he looked lewdly at me, and I resisted the urge to cover myself. “I want you at my feet, plaint, obedient, fucking mine.” His voice dropped, taking a deeper edge. “Every time you let me have you, Dolcezza, I’ll make sure you know what your mother was. I’ll feed you what you crave. Until you beg for the next.”
Heat coiled low in my stomach. Not the good kind.
The terrifying kind.
“The fuck is wrong with you? You’re sick!”
I shoved the chair back so fast it scraped against the floor. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to…”
“Dinner.”
I froze.
He smiled. “You have until dinner to decide. I’ll be waiting in the library. Or,” he glanced at the contract, tapping it with a single finger, “you can walk away. But I promise you if you do…” His voice dropped to something lethal. “You’ll never find out what happened to her.”
Terror curled around my throat.
He wasn’t bluffing.
And that was the worst fucking part and feeling.
I turned on my heel and stormed out, but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Because no matter how much I told myself I could fight this…
I already knew what my choice would be.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Storm
The anklet burned against my skin.
Not in a literal sense, but in a way that made my skin crawl with disgust, like it was searing my existence into this place, this goddamn prison disguised as luxury.
I sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, knees pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around them like they could somehow hold me together. My throat was raw, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps, and I hated myself for the tears. For how fucking weak I was.
It couldn’t be happening.
Yet the cold bite of metal around my ankle told me otherwise. It was there, constantly mocking me that he owned me.
I pressed my hands to my face, trying to steady the hurricane in my chest. My mind was a mess, tangled with too many thoughts, too many questions that seemed to be piling up with each encounter with him.
How did he know about my family?
Who even was he?
Did I even know his name?
A cruel, hollow laugh bubbled in my throat. No. I didn’t. A man had stepped out of nowhere, killed my fiancé, and now I was here, trapped, blackmailed, with nothing but my body as collateral.
It was humiliating.
But the worst part? I knew there was nothing I could do.
Because he had threatened me. Not just with answers but with my father, with Grace.
I clenched my jaw, gripping my hair in my hands. Fuck.
I hated him. I hated him more than I intended to. And yet… If anything happened to my father, if anything happened to Grace…
