I’m alone again.
Soon I’ll be alone while surrounded by people.In a handful of minutes, room service will deliver the breakfast my father chose for me.I’ll eat alone.Dress alone.Leave alone.
After that, I don’t have a single moment of solitude for the rest of the day.I don’t know when Mario will make his entrance, but he called me his future wife, so it’ll probably be before the wedding.Hopefully.
My phone beeps a strange sound.It must be the device’s default tone for the snooze alarm, but a good girl never misses her alarm and doesn’t need the snooze function, so I never hear it.
I cover my face with my hands and breathe to a count of ten, but still can’t force myself to sit up, so I roll onto my side instead.
My braids slide along the pillowcase.I pull one over my shoulder and close my fist around it as I slip a hand under my pillow.
I’m alone but not defenseless.
The steak knife I stole off my room service tray one morning won’t cause much damage, but it makes me feel better.My father has kept his physical distance, but the growing glint in his eyes fills me with dread.
Housekeeping knocks on my door.I call out a greeting, force my body to sit up, and plaster a welcoming expression on my face.The woman pushes in my breakfast cart, gives me my first wedding day congratulations, and slips back into the hall.
I fill my lungs and release the breath on a sigh.After dragging my heavy body off the mattress, I rub my face and stumble toward the bathroom, but a flash of color draws my eyes to the breakfast cart.
Adrenaline rushes through me.I step toward the cart on unsteady legs.A small white box with a blue ribbon sits tucked between the trays.
I pick it up, lift the lid, and fight back a sob of relief.
The lacy blue panties can only be from one person.
Mario Luciano.
He hasn’t abandoned me.
For the last decade, I hated him.He wrecked my fairytale childhood and plunged me into a world of dark loneliness.
Now he’s my only hope of escaping my father, but he’snotthe lesser of two evils.He’s the king of evil.
I take what feels like my first full breath in a week and a half and close my fist around the slip of fabric.
It’s softer than my hair.
An unhinged chuckle escapes my mouth.I disappear into the bathroom to complete my extended morning ritual, the importance of the day heavy on my shoulders, but smile in satisfaction when the panties cup my sex and hug my waist.
My nipples pebble and warmth pulses between my legs.
I haven’t touched myself since the gifts stopped.It feels wrong without his influence hovering around me.
A glance in the mirror gives me pause.
The panties are the same color as my eyes.
What the fuck am I getting myself into?The hidden messages in every decision Mario makes reveal his character.He’s so intense.
The front door lock beeps as someone inserts their keycard.My heart leaps into my throat.I snatch a towel off the rack and wrap it around myself even though I locked the bathroom door.
“Valentina?”
I run the gamut of emotions as I recognize my father.Disappointment.Relief.Anxiety.Fear.
“Yes, Daddy?”I ask through the door.
“Is everything okay?”he responds.
