“I’ll be there,” I muttered, forcing myself to stand.
Her gaze flicked up to me briefly, pity shining before she nodded and disappeared through the door.
I glanced at the clock. It was barely eight in the morning. Too early to face him. Too early to stomach whatever new torment he had planned.
But I didn’t have a choice.
I brushed my teeth, surprised at finding all the necessities in the bathroom. And took a shower I needed desperately. The dress I wore was ruined now, so I covered myself with a robe. When I returned to the room, Elena was there, holding a broom and a bucket, cleaning the mess I created. I felt bad for her.
Feeling pathetic, I cleared my throat. “Can I… have something to wear?”
She looked up and placed the broom down before disappearing through the door adjacent to the vanity I destroyed. After a minute or two, she came back with three pieces on hangers and placed them neatly on the bed.
“Here, you can choose.” She resumed her work, and I stared at the clothes, more like dresses. I’d be lying if I said they were ugly. No, definitely not. However, they were not to my taste. Ipicked a dress and inspected it. Emerald, long and revealing. The other two were no better. One was deep purple, equally revealing yet decently articulated.
I didn’t even want to look at the third one. It already looked short enough not to cover my behind, though the neckline was elegant.
My blood boiled. Was he expecting me to wear this? For him? He seriously was making this marriage a reality? I threw the dresses on the bed. “I’m not wearing any of these.”
Elena sighed. “They were the more modest of them. You wouldn’t like to anger him, Mrs. Vitale.”
My jaw clenched tight. “I’m not his wife. Don’t call me that.”
“He’s not a man you’d want to provoke. You’ve seen what he’s capable of, what he did to your lover. He wouldn’t hesitate to repeat it.” She paused, tilting her head and motioning at the dresses. “The only reason you’re breathing is because he wants you to. Don’t mistake that for kindness.”
My chest felt like a stone sinking in water. I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to listen, didn’t want her to be right. But the image of Adrian… his hands red. My hands trembled as I stared at the dresses. He wanted to parade me around like some trophy for him? Like this marriage was real?
“It’s not fair,” I whispered breathlessly, slumping on the bed. “Why is this happening to me?”
Elena remained silent. I gritted my teeth. I wouldn’t win this fight like this. She was right. He was capable of far worse. My father, my friends, even Adrian’s family… what if this unhingedman decides to do something to them? I didn’t know if he was bluffing or not, but the madness in his eyes stated what I feared.
Taking another defeated breath, I grabbed the emerald dress and, with a heavy heart, changed into it.
It gleamed like liquid silk. Flowed and hugged my curves with effortless grace; it startled me. The high-slit tease was too much. Minimal, modern, and utterly revealing.
“Come, I’ll style your hair.”
I clenched my jaw. “He wants a wife or a trophy?” She grabbed my arm and escorted me to the vanity I remembered destroying, but somehow, Elena managed to tidy it up.
“Men… tend to… be distracted by captivating things. The prettier they are, the tamer they will be.”
I scoffed as she gathered all my hair behind me and secured it with several pins. “I wonder if we’re talking about the same man. He’s more like an animal than a human being.”
I saw a faint smile crossing her face. “With that I can’t disagree.”
She seemed like a kind woman, despite the occasional glares she offered. I wondered how she ended up working for a monster like him. By the time she was done, she applied some blush and tint to my lips. Though I looked decent, I hated that he was going to see me dolled up for him.
When I entered the dining room, he was already there, sitting at the head of the table like a king on his throne. His dark suit was immaculate today; this time, he wore a navy blue one with a white shirt peeking out. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes… damn those stormy eyes.
I slowly walked to the dining table, trying to make my presence as small as possible.
“Good morning, Dolcezza.” He noticed, of course.
I clenched my jaw, refusing to respond as I sat down at the far end of the table. He was having coffee, and a black file was sitting beside his plate.
“Silent treatment already? We’re not even a full day into our marriage.”
I shot him a glare, my stomach churning at the wordmarriage.
