“But you,” he continues, looking up at me with those impossibly blue eyes that seem to see straight through to my soul, “you see me. You value me. You’re worth protecting, even if it means making difficult choices about people who don’t appreciate what they have.”
He returns to his blade maintenance, the scraping sound of metal on stone filling the silence like a countdown timer. Each stroke is methodical, precise, almost meditative. This is someone who’s thought through every contingency, planned for every possible threat to his happiness.
Including the possibility of having to eliminate anyone who tries to separate us.
I’m lying here, chained and helpless, watching my beautiful, psychotic husband sharpen weapons while casually discussing murdering his own family members. And the most terrifying part isn’t the threats themselves.
It’s how competent he is. How thoroughly he’s planned this. How easily he solved my business crisis with knowledge I didn’t even know he possessed.
Giovanni Torrini… Wait. Fucking hell, if that ceremony was legal, does that mean he is Giovanni Benedetti now? Cristo. I can’t even go there right now. It’s too much.
The point is, Ginni isn’t just unhinged. He’s brilliant, capable, and absolutely ruthless when it comes to protecting what he considers his.
And apparently, that includes me.
The question is whether being protected by someone this dangerous is better or worse than being threatened by them.
I’m starting to suspect I don’t want to know the answer.
Chapter fifteen
Carlo
Ginni puts his knives away with swift, practiced movements, each blade returning to its designated slot in the leather roll with the precision of a surgeon organizing his instruments. Then he stands beside the bed and stares down at me with an utterly unreadable expression on his beautiful face.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken tension. His blue eyes seem to be cataloguing every detail of my expression, reading things I’m not even aware I’m revealing.
“What?” I ask uneasily, shifting against the restraints.
He sighs dramatically, like someone facing an impossible decision. “It’s time for my livestream, but I don’t want to leave you alone on our honeymoon.”
“It’s fine,” I say quickly, perhaps too quickly. “You should do your work.”
Maybe if he leaves me alone for a couple of hours, I’ll figure out how to escape. Because with him here, wearing that silk robe that barely covers his thighs, there isn’t a chance in hell I’mgoing to be able to think clearly, let alone formulate any kind of action plan.
“You are such a kind husband,” Ginni beams, his entire face lighting up with genuine pleasure. “But you shouldn’t be fine with me working during our honeymoon. You should have more self-respect than that.”
My eyes narrow. “I have plenty of self-respect.”
At least, I did. Before I was abducted by a femboy. Whether I have any dignity left is a question for when I’ve escaped. And had therapy. So much therapy.
“Oh!” Ginni exclaims suddenly, bringing his hands together like he’s just received divine inspiration.
I think he’s had an idea, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like it. Or maybe I will, and that’s precisely the fucking problem with everything that’s happened between us.
“I’ll bring my equipment in here! I can sit on your lap while I stream. That way we don’t have to be apart.”
That doesn’t sound too bad, actually. In fact, it might be the least insane idea he’s had since I’ve been chained in this basement. At least it doesn’t involve cattle prods or cutthroat razors.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back!”
He turns and practically skips out of the room, his robe fluttering behind him and giving me tantalizing glimpses of pale skin that I absolutely should not be noticing.
Stay here. Did he really just tell me to stay here while I’m chained to his bed? The cheeky little psychopath. When I get out of here, I’m going to put him over my knee and spank him until he learns some respect.
Images of doing exactly that flash across my mind’s eye, vivid and detailed and completely inappropriate. I swallow hard. It’s suddenly very warm in this basement.
Okay, when I get out of here, I’m going to punish Ginni. But not in any way that could possibly be misconstrued as sexual. At all. This is about justice, not whatever twisted dynamic has been building between us.
