Chapter 30 Allegra
ALLEGRA
My eyes snap open when I hear footsteps down the hallway. That can only mean one thing.
Enzo's back.
For three days he's been absent…three days in which I'd cried my last tears—for the idiot I'd been, and for the brilliant actor he'd turned out to be.
No more!
Getting out of bed, I open the door, coming face-to-face with the man who's been tormenting me from day one.
But the sight I find is not the one I expected.
He's wearing the same white shirt and black pants he'd been wearing the last time I saw him. His eyes widen when he notices me. My gaze moves over his body, and I note the shadows on his face, the slight growth of a beard on his jaw…
He doesn't look good.
As I step toward him, I almost feel sorry for him.
Maybe it was the grief talking.
Just as I tell myself that, I catch a whiff of the same perfume that had been clinging to his skin the last time—a woman's perfume.
He was with that woman again… He fucked another woman.
I don't even wait for the pain to settle in my chest as my hand stretches out, the echo of a slap resounding in the hallway. His face moves to the side, but he doesn't react. He just looks at me in a bored manner, his entire expression closed off.
"That was for last time," I start, willing my voice to remain steady. I'd rehearsed so many times the things I'd like to scream in his face, but as I look at him now, I find myself rather speechless.
"I told you once, Enzo Agosti, that I'll give as good as I get. If you ever think about bullying me again, then you'd better watch where you sleep."
He doesn't react to my threat, his shoulders angling up in a lazy shrug.
"Do your worst," he says, closing the door to his room in my face.
Speechless, I stare at the closed door.
What just happened?
The following day is even worse. Sunday is the only day of the week when we're all expected to come down for dinner—the only day Rocco himself is present.
Tensions run high as I make my way to the dining room. Rocco is seated at one end of the table, with Lucia on his left side. Enzo is seated at the other end, and I take my seat next to him as expected.
Everyone is silent as the dishes are served, but I detect a quiet smugness on Lucia's face.
Does she know?
She must, otherwise she wouldn't be gloating like this. Was she in on it too? Make fun of the peasant girl—gain her trust and discard her like trash?
Something strange seems to pass between Enzo and Lucia, their eyes intensely glued to each other. It only further confirms that I may have been played—by everyone.
I won't cry…not anymore.
"Father," I address Rocco as he'd asked me. He stops eating, putting his utensils down and turning his attention to me. He raises an eyebrow and I take a deep breath, my plan set.
"I think it's been long enough since my marriage to Enzo, and we don't need to pretend to be cordial anymore. I'd like to move into my own place." I look him straight in the eye as I say this, showing no weakness.
His eyes widen and his fists hit the table, his bowl of soup jumping up and spilling some liquid onto the tablecloth. Another sound from my right tells me Enzo has done the same thing.
"Enzo, what is this? Is this some sort of joke?" Rocco sputters as he looks between the two of us.
"No, it's…" I start, wanting to make my position clear. But a hand grabs my leg from under the table, squeezing my flesh hard.
"Of course it's a joke, Father," Enzo amends, throwing in a smile for good measure. I try to shake off his hand, but his hold tightens to a painful degree.
"It's not funny, son. It's borderline insulting that she'd even suggest such a thing," Rocco exclaims, clearly incensed.
The hypocrisy doesn't escape me, as I know full well that like his son, he spends most of his time with whores.
The mere reminder that Enzo's been playing me like a fool while he's been sleeping with who knows who has me almost rabid with anger.
So I return Enzo's loving touch by lodging my nails in his hand.
The more he squeezes my thigh, the more pressure I apply, digging my nails deeper into his skin, the thought of drawing blood a small satisfaction.
"Don't worry, Father. She's not serious," Enzo continues, gritting his teeth in pain, and my desire to hurt him increases tenfold.
He knew how careful I was with my heart, and he went to great lengths to get it and then stomp on it. Death is the greatest mercy for those like him.
Rocco turns to his son, his expression grave. "Enzo, your wife doesn't know her place. She needs to be disciplined." He turns to me with narrowed eyes. "Women need to know where they stand and how much they should open their mouths."
"Discipline? I'm not a child," I burst out, incredulous he'd even suggest such a thing. Enzo's fingers tighten painfully, but I've long forgotten about the pain.
"Shut it, Allegra," Enzo says through gritted teeth.
"Son, I think you need to show your wife who's the man in the house," Rocco continues, and Lucia is finding it harder to hide her happiness at the turn of events.
"What do you…" I trail off when I feel a pinch in my thigh. I turn to Enzo, but his expression is unyielding.
"She needs to know what respect means. If you can't do it, then…"
"I'll do it," Enzo replies immediately, forcefully tugging me to my feet. "Don't worry, Father, she won't bother you again."
Rocco hums in approval.
"She needs to learn from your mother—seen but not heard. I rather think she needs something else in that mouth of hers." The corners of his mouth pull up, the innuendo clear.
Enzo drags me out of the dining room and into his office, closing the door behind him.
"Are you really that stupid, Allegra," he asks, coming toward me with measured steps, "to bring that up with my father?"
"Well, this," I point between us, "is clearly not working, so we might as well go our separate ways." Folding my arms over my chest, I take a defensive position lest he see through my mask.
"Separate ways?" he scoffs, laughing derisively at me.
He comes closer, his hand gripping my arm and bringing me into him.
"You forget one small detail, wife. 'Til death do us part.
Either I die first or you do; there's no going back.
You're mine for the rest of your days, so you might as well get used to it. "
Ignoring his words, I push him off and head for the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" His eyebrows shoot up, and he looks at me with wry amusement.
"Evidently, anywhere you're not." I roll my eyes at him.
It's easier to go on the offensive than to acknowledge the way my heart still skips a beat when I'm near him.
"I think there's one outstanding problem," he casually comments as he folds up the sleeves of his shirt.
"Not my business," I shrug.
I try to pass by him, but somehow he maneuvers us both onto the couch in the middle of the room. I fall on top of him, lying across his lap. My dress is suddenly raised over my hips, the cold air hitting my skin and making me squirm.
"What…" I don't even get the words out as a slap comes down on my ass.
Hard.
I yelp in pain and surprise.
"That mouth is going to get you into trouble, Allegra," he says as he slaps my butt again. And again.
"You should be thankful it's not my belt that's touching your pretty ass." His palm touches my skin tenderly, his movements gently diffusing the pain.
"But Father was right. You do need disciplining." Another stinging pain as he continues to spank me, stopping now and then to caress my battered bottom.
Tears are gathering at the corners of my eyes, but I keep myself from crying out, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of winning.
I suffer in silence until he ends his discipline session. Draping my skirt over my legs again, he pulls me into a sitting position on his lap.
"Vile… you're vile," I grind out through my teeth, spewing the insult at him, his erection hard and digging into me.
He's getting off on my pain.
I scramble to my feet, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.
"And you'd do well to remember that, Allegra," he says as I rush to the door, wrenching it open to see both Rocco and Lucia waiting outside, their faces full of delight.
"I'm proud of you, son," I hear Rocco's words as I move past them, and my heart squeezes painfully in my chest.
Fool. I'm such a fool.