Chapter 9
Sofia
I turn off the hot water in the shower. The good cry gave me a cathartic release, and I finally feel level-headed.
I step out, wrapping a plush white towel around myself.
My surroundings are more luxurious than I’m used to.
Obviously, I grew up privileged, but my house still felt like…
a house? While here, everything in his bathroom is pristine white marble.
The showerhead made it feel like I was standing in a waterfall, and there’s a large tub on the other side of the bathroom.
I wipe the condensation from the mirror to look at my face. My eyes are no longer puffy from crying. Good. I do not want him to see me as weak. I run my fingers through my hair, lightly combing it, and then crack the door open to his bedroom, pleased to see that it’s empty.
I head to the closet where my bright-pink suitcase sits, but I get distracted by all of his things.
Everything: his shirts, his pants, his suit jackets—are meticulously organized by type and color.
Although most of his wardrobe is black, so maybe I’m giving him too much credit.
I open up some drawers, curious if the obsessive organization follows in here.
I almost laugh when I see his ties rolled up in a neat array of manly colors.
Just to mess with him, I pluck a blue one out and swap it with a red one.
Then I swap a dark gray with a different gray one that lacks a pattern—somehow there’s a method to distinguish patterned from plain too.
Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky, and this will give him a heart attack. It could be my chance to escape.
I continue opening drawers mindlessly until I stumble upon his boxer briefs. I slam that shut and then finally move on to opening up my suitcase and grab the first pair of shorts and sports bra I can find—I’m boiling. They don’t have the air conditioning on in this castle.
I leave the bedroom and continue out to the hallway, and I’m surprised I don’t see him waiting for me on the couch or in the kitchen. But I was in the shower for a while, so that gave plenty of time for Marco or something to have called him away.
I take a few steps in the living room.
He’s not even on the balcony. A sense of calm comes over me knowing that I’m free of him, at least momentarily.
But I sense a pair of eyes on me. I turn and see a man I’ve never met before waiting by the door—guarding it.
“Oh! Buonasera,” I greet him, forgetting that I’m not supposed to even say anything to him.
He gives me a quick nod, and it almost seems like he’s looking past me.
“Do you know where Alessandro went?” I ask.
“My instructions were to keep you inside his home and to keep my hands off.”
This guy seems really straight to the point, which I like—Alessandro didn’t find some psycho to guard me when he’s away. Might as well try to get to know him, even if it breaks his stupid rules. I don’t see a problem with exchanging names.
“Got it. I’m Sofia, but I suppose you already know that.”
“Antonio—”
The door opening next to him cuts him off.
Of course, Alessandro is back already.
My heart pounds when his eyes rake over my body. Something is wrong.
I can see his chest heaving as his eyes fixate on my sports bra, and I realize he does not approve of my current outfit.
He continues to stand there in angry silence.
He’s out of his suit now and is only in a white t-shirt.
I watch his forearms flex, shifting the black tattoo that crawls up his left arm.
Alessandro’s attention shifts to Antonio, who is still acting stoic, but I can see underneath that fake layer that he’s terrified.
“Hi,” I try to break the tension, but my voice is so weak I don’t even know if he hears it.
His green eyes flick back over to me. “Hi?”
My mouth goes dry, and I don’t know what to say next. I feel like I’m standing face to face with a rattlesnake. I’m frozen because I know anything I say at all will make this situation worse.
Alessandro reaches for his gun. My hand covers my mouth, wondering if he’s going to shoot me. Maybe he was ordered to just now. But judging by Antonio’s body language, he seems to be worried about the same thing.
Alessandro looks him up and down, pondering him for an uncomfortably long time, then turns back to me. “Did he do anything to you?”
“Did he do anything?” I repeat the question back.
My eyes stuck on his gun. If he shoots Antonio dead right here in front of me, I will not be okay.
I can’t have that on my conscience. I won’t be able to handle seeing the aftermath.
Him bleeding out all over the floor. Alessandro knows about my phobia.
What if he leaves the body here just to fuck with me?
I can feel the color drain from my face.
“Sofia?”
“What?”
“Did he do anything to you?” This question comes out more like a growl than a human sentence.
“N..no.”
Antonio relaxes as I finally respond. “I only got out of the shower a moment ago. I didn’t know…”
“And this is what you put on?” He narrows his eyes at me. “Was the plan to flirt with my soldiers hoping someone would help you escape?”
My throat feels like it’s closing up on me as I stand there like a deer in the headlights.
This was a horrible mistake. I lounge around the house like this all the time in the summer—my boobs are small, and when it’s paired with something high-waisted, it’s hardly revealing.
But now I remember; people are more modest here. What the hell was I thinking?
Alessandro laughs without humor, looking me up and down one more time before putting his gun back.
“Go.” He nods his head towards the door, shooing Antonio away.
I’m happy he will not murder Antonio, but now all of his rage is going to be centered on me.
He closes the door shut, tapping his fingers and not turning to face me. I can’t tell if these theatrics are his horrible personality or if he’s trying to drag everything out just to frighten me.
He chuckles darkly as he takes a few steps towards me and then towers over me.
“I didn’t think I’d have to create this rule,” he starts. “You will never be without a shirt in front of another man again. If you break this rule, I will gouge out their fucking eyes in front of you.”
“P..please don’t.”
“Don’t? You’re in control of that, Sofia. Simply put on a shirt when there’s another man in the room and you won’t have to witness that.”
He takes the back of his hand and brushes down my arm, causing goosebumps to form. My heart pounds in my chest at his closeness as he moves on to absentmindedly touching my wet hair. “Do you remember the other rules?”
“Don’t escape. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Don’t mess with your things.”
I remember the ties and that stupid idea. Now, I desperately want to sprint back and change it to how he had it before.
“Good girl,” he whispers.
These two words have a confusing effect on my body. I shift uncomfortably, wishing I got married to an ugly man so I could simply be afraid of my new husband.
“And which of those did you break while I was away?”
“The talking one?”
“Yes.”
He chuckles again while glaring at me. I didn’t know those two things could happen simultaneously. “I can tell you’re hiding more from me. What else?”
I bite my lip and look away from him. If I keep hidden that I messed with his things on purpose, I can fix it myself and he wouldn’t know any different.
He reaches for the back of my head and tilts my head up so that I have to look him in the eyes. He’s not rough about it, but it doesn’t make it any less intimidating.
“There’s no color in your face. Are you afraid?”
I nod, noticing I’ve been clutching my arm tight enough to leave a red mark through this entire conversation.
“Then tell me what it is you’re hiding.”
“Your ties,” my voice sounds more like a squeaker toy than anything else.
There’s something about Alessandro’s presence—I’m afraid, but there’s also this weird sense of wanting to please him?
And it’s turning me into a weak woman that I don’t even recognize.
But I’ve never been in this powerless of a position before.
I always had my family to rely on, so no one beyond some mean girls growing up ever messed with me.
“My ties?” His brow furrows as he narrows his eyes.
“I moved a couple around… to see if you’d notice.”
He lets go of my head and takes a step back, covering his mouth with his hand and staring at the ground. Maybe I’m hallucinating from holding my breath from anxiety for too long, but I swear I spot a brief twinkle in his eye before he opens his mouth again.
“I guess I’ll be nice and give you a pass this one time.”
He raises his eyebrows expectantly.
“Thank you,” I manage.
“Now behave the rest of the night and I’ll leave you alone.”
That word—behave—has another tingly effect on me.
I question what is wrong with me as he walks away to close himself in the bedroom, leaving the front door unguarded for me to walk out.
I consider it for a moment, but I’m sure this is a cruel test and he has more guards waiting on the other side, waiting to take me to the dungeon for breaking another rule.
I head over to the couch to sit down in a daze. But that feeling doesn’t last for long as embarrassment and anger take over. I failed to mask my fear, and my voice was so weak when I answered his questions. I can’t blame myself too much—he had a gun out. I could be dead right now. Or Antonio.
But I can’t let him bulldoze over me like this.
At least, not until he gives me a reason to properly fear him.
I’ll test him subtly. I’ll follow his damn rules, but I will not be pleasant about it.