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)
At first, I thought the worst thing Vitto would do to me is what most men do in this business ‒ sleep around, not let me do what I want ‒, but I know now it's so much worse than that. Vitto Donatti merely sees me as a possession, as something to own and not even treasure. He wants to hurt me for the sake of it, to get back at Adrian. He doesn't give a shit about me, never did. All he wants is to break someone else's toy because he couldn't have it first.
From outside the door, I hear the sound of his maniacal laughter. He's laughing at me because he knows I'm fucking helpless in here. At least there's a bathroom attached to the bedroom... But even so, what's really stopping Vitto from coming in here? It's a momentary reprieve. He will be back tomorrow.
And he tells me as much. I can almost see him on the other side of the door, forehead pressed against the wood as he makes sick promises that chill me to my very bones.
"Tomorrow you will become my wife," Vitto rattles on. "And then you won't be able to resist me ever again. I'm not letting you get away this time. You owe me, Marzia."
I want to fucking smash something in his face, but I know I shouldn't react. If I do, it will only piss him off more and he'll take it out on me the next chance he gets. I need to stay level headed.
His ramblings continue.
Now, I begin to wonder if he's set up permanently in front of my door, so he can intimidate me all fucking night long. I press my hands over my ears, trying to block out the sound of his words but it's no use. My heart won't stop pounding and fear reverberates through my body, knowing there's a madman on the other side of the door.
I wash up with shaky hands and lie on my bed as the sounds of Vitto's enraged growls finally die down. I don't know whether he's gone back to his room or fallen asleep outside the door, but I know I'm not safe here for long. But there's nothing else I can do. I can't get out the window, not with the bars preventing me from getting out. There's no escape here. I've checked the room for vents, but even the big one isn't big enough for me to hide in.
I lie on my back on the bed, mind racing as I try to come up with a solution. I don't know if I'll ever be able to outrun Vitto. Something tells me he isn't going to give up, not until he's made me his property officially.
I must drift off sometime during the night, but I wake up with a start at the sound of someone hacking on my door. I rush to stand by the window, screaming into the void outside without any hope of being found or someone helping me.
"No one hears you here," Vitto tells me from the hallway. "Scream away, I'll punish you for every time you open that mouth."
I'm shivering by the time he's knocked down the door. He tumbles over the dresser and enters the room, a vision without his shirt and his muscular, toned body glistening with sweat. Any other woman would think him a catch, but not me. I've come face-to-face with the monster beneath his handsome exterior now, and I know there's no mercy inside this man.
He approaches me slowly, like a predator circling his prey. A smile plays on his lips as he hands me a large cardboard box. "Put this on."
I take the box from him with shaky hands, too afraid to argue with him further. Carefully, I take a look inside—my eyes widen when I see a wedding dress resting amidst layers of tissue paper.
"I told you we were going to be married, didn't I?" Vitto seems lost in a world of his own, his eyes clouding over with desire as he watches me shiver. "Put it on, right the fuck now."
"C-can you g-give me some privacy?" I manage. I hate how fucking weak I sound, but I can't help it, I've never been more afraid in my life.
He takes the utmost pleasure in telling me no, before sitting in an armchair in my bedroom, hungrily watching me as I strip down to my underwear. I turn around to take my bra off, but he doesn't let me. His lecherous eyes drink me in as I strip down to my panties.
Hot tears of humiliation burn my eyes as I put the itchy, lacy wedding dress on. It's old-fashioned and long since gone out of style. I never imagined my wedding day being like this. I'm sure my parents didn't either. Despite their many shortcomings, I still want to believe they wanted the best for me.