Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 102566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I paint for three days, and Adrian doesn't come and see me once. It's only because of Eleanora's nods that I know he is still away. I ask Eleanora to have the painting I made of us displayed in his bedroom. I wonder what he'll think of it.
On the third night, I fall asleep waiting for him to show up.
He doesn't.
I wake up with a start in the middle of the night, feeling a chill go over my skin as goosebumps erupt all over my body. He's here. I just know it. I can feel his electric presence in the room. My eyes go to the camera on the wall, but the red dot is off. He isn't filming me.
"What woke you up?" a voice speaks up.
I startle, staring into the corner where his dark shape is coming to life.
"Did you have a bad dream, bambina?"
"Where were you?" I demand right away, staring at him with accusing eyes. "How could you just leave me like that? You abandoned me."
"Don't question what I do," he orders me. "You don't get to pick what you get from me. You're my captive. I decide what you get. You don't get a say. Don't you remember? Do I need to refresh your memory?" He gets up from the armchair and strolls closer, turning on the night light next to my bed.
He smells like expensive cigar smoke, and I find myself leaning in to catch more of his scent. He's driving me crazy, but I can't let him see that just yet. I need to look composed. "How could I forget," I reply bitterly. "I've been locked in here for days. You could have at least told Eleanora, she was worried too."
"Oh, sure." He smirks darkly. "The maid cares now. But not you. Never you."
I purse my lips, ignoring his question and focusing instead on the painting I had sent to his office in the hopes of either turning him on, or making him feel bad. "Did you see what I sent you?"
"Your little present was wonderful, yes." He grins. "An interesting interpretation. You see us very differently than I do."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm not the cruel monster you've decided I am, Marzia."
"Then why did you leave after what happened between us?" I narrow my eyes at him.
"I needed some space."
"From me?" I know my voice sounds wounded. It's because I experienced something different with Adrian, something I never expected to feel. I wanted to give him so much more, but instead of allowing me to give it to him, he left me.
"I'm sorry, Marzia," he mutters.
I'm rendered momentarily speechless. Adrian doesn't say sorry. At least not to me.
"But you're driving me fucking crazy. I need to stay away from you, bambina."
I scoot closer on the bed, pulling one of his hands onto my lap and making him lean forward. "Why? I don't want you to stay away from me." We've switched into different roles yet again. But this is the only way for me to be comfortable with my feelings and with Adrian. I need to show him how much I need him. Maybe it's not too late and I can still win him back.
"Because you're dangerous," Adrian admits, avoiding my hopeful gaze. "You make my head spin, Marzia. I can't afford that right now."
"Does your father still..." I don't finish the sentence and he doesn't acknowledge it. I'm too afraid to hear the answer, anyway. I decide to try a different tactic instead. "Adrian, is there someone else? Another woman?"
"No." He shakes his head vehemently, eyes meeting mine for just a few seconds. "There's no other woman. You know you're the only one for me."
So the problem is his father. And of course, my brother and Vitto. The more I think about it, the more I realize how wrong this union would be. I can never marry Adrian. Not unless I want to dance on my parents' graves, disrespecting them. But I can’t help wanting him. "Then touch me," I whisper, guiding his hand closer, under my pajama shirt.
Adrian groans out loud, but doesn't resist as I push his tattooed hands higher. They travel over my navel and between my breasts. His eyes fly open, dark blues meeting my gaze and staring at me with such a piercing quality it makes me shiver.
"I can't," he mutters, but he does nothing to stop me.
So I keep making him touch me, placing his hand over my heart so he can feel how fast it's beating.
"Fuck, Marzia..."
"Feel it," I beg him. "It wants you."
He groans, brushing his thumb over my hardened nipple under the shirt. As I moan his name, it's as if something in Adrian switches. He lets go of the persona that resists me, and another shift happens. Suddenly, he can't get enough of me. One hand travels into my hair, tangling in my mess of waves while the other rips the shirt off me.