Sitting. Breathing.
Trying to process everything he had just said.
My gaze drifted unwillingly to the wall clock.
9:47.
The second hand ticked forward with mechanical indifference.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Each movement sounded louder than the last, as if time itself had slowed just to make sure I heard every passing second.
Thirteen minutes.
That was what I had left.
Thirteen minutes before I was expected to walk into his room.
Before whatever “wife duties” meant in his world became my reality.
My stomach tightened at the thought.
Eat, he had said.
Gain strength.
Strength for what?
My mind refused to fill in the blanks, but my body did anyway.
A low, cold dread settled in my gut, spreading slowly, wrapping around my ribs like something tightening its grip.
My gaze shifted slowly toward the staircase.
The one that led upward into the villa.
Toward the private wing. Toward his space.
His control. His bedroom.
I would never let Vincenzo be my first.
Never.
No matter what twisted thing he was implying, I refused to let him have that part of me.
A man like him could easily force it— I knew that.
I had dreaded it from the moment I understood what kind of monster I was married to.
But I swore to myself, right then and there, that I would never allow it to happen.
I could run.
